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As the carriage door closes and Ghost settles at my feet, I finally allow myself to exhale.

“Are you okay?” Sapphire asks quietly, her fingers intertwined with mine.

I look at her—at this woman who defied gods for me, who refused to let me drown in my own coldness, and who refused to let me sacrifice myself for her—and the ice in my soul melts a little more with every breath she shares with me.

“I am now,” I tell her, squeezing her hand in affirmation.

A sharp rap on the carriage door interrupts the moment. I recognize the pattern immediately—three quick taps followed by two slower ones. Only one person in the entire Winter Court knocks like that.

“Come in, Calder,” I call, and the door swings open, revealing a tall, broad-shouldered man with silver-streaked black hair tied back in a severe knot.

His normally sharp features break into a rare smile when he sees me.

“Your Highness.” Calder bows his head, the formality in his tone offset by the amused glint in his frosty eyes. “Or should I say, Your Victorious, Battle-Hardened, Father-Defeating Majesty?”

Despite everything, I can’t help but smile. Calder has been my combat instructor since I was old enough to hold a sword. He’s seen me at my worst—bloodied, broken, and defeated. But he’s also seen me rise, again and again.

“Just ‘Riven’ will do,” I tell him dryly. “At least when my father isn’t within earshot.”

“Old habits.” He shrugs, then turns to Sapphire. “Princess Sapphire. An honor to formally meet the woman who managed to teach this stubborn prince something I couldn’t.”

Sapphire raises an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”

“How to lose gracefully,” Calder says with a wink.

I scoff, but there’s no real heat behind it. “I never lost to you, old man.”

“No?” Calder crosses his arms, leaning against the carriage doorframe. “What about that time when you were fourteen and I disarmed you so thoroughly that your sword ended up embedded in the ceiling? ”

Sapphire’s laughter fills the carriage, her water magic bubbling in response to her amusement.

Just the sound of it makes my heart swell. Because after the torturous days when Eros’s arrow poisoned her gaze with hatred and I agonized over the possibility that she’d never love me again, each laugh she offers is redemption—and I’ll chase this sound into eternity.

“I need to hear this story,” she says, and when she glances at me, the joy in her eyes is downright contagious.

“Another time,” I say softly, shooting Calder a warning look.

He completely ignores it.

“I’ll tell you on the journey, Princess. I have decades worth of embarrassing stories about your husband.” Calder’s expression sobers slightly. “Speaking of the journey, that’s why I’m here. I’ll be leading your personal guard detail.”

I straighten, since this is good news. If I had to choose anyone from the Winter Court to protect Sapphire, it would be Calder. His loyalty isn’t just to the crown—it’s to me. And now, by extension, to her.

“Who else?” I ask.

“Twelve of my best, including Lirabelle.” A hint of pride enters his voice at the mention of his daughter. “She’s waiting nearby to properly introduce herself to the princess. ”

As if summoned by her name, a slender figure appears behind Calder.

Where he’s all bulk and intimidation, Lirabelle is grace and precision, her dark blonde hair cropped short against her skull, emphasizing the sharp angles of her face.

But despite her lean frame, I know from experience that she’s one of the deadliest fighters in the Winter Court.

“Prince Riven,” she says, her voice cool and measured as she steps forward. “Princess Sapphire.”

Lirabelle’s bow is perfect—exactly the right depth for acknowledging royalty, while maintaining the dignity of an elite guard, while also getting across the comfort shared between old friends.

I’d expect nothing less. Even as a child, sparring with her in the training grounds, she never gave an inch more than necessary.

“It’s been a while, Lira,” I say, easily switching to her nickname. “Last I remember, you were being deployed to the northern border.”

“Three years on the frost line,” she confirms. “I’ve only just returned.”

Sapphire shifts beside me, her water magic twining with my ice, forming beautiful patterns that dance and shimmer through the air between us. I’m tempted to capture them, just so I can have one more part of her to hoard for the rest of eternity.

Forcing myself back to reality—and away from the beautiful distraction beside me—I return my attention to the important topic at hand: every measure we’re taking to keep Sapphire safe.

“Lira is our best tracker,” I explain to her. “She’s deadly with her crossbow.”

“Looks like ‘crossbow’ just earned a spot on my private lesson wish list,” Sapphire replies, winning my heart all over again before she returns her focus to Lira. “Have you ever been to the Summer Court?”

Lira’s expression remains neutral, but I catch the slight tightening around her eyes. “Once,” she says. “Seven decades ago, on a diplomatic escort for a trade negotiation.”

Before Sapphire can press further, Calder clears his throat.

“We should depart, Your Highnesses. The longer we delay, the more likely we’ll encounter the Twilight Mists in Boundary Pass.” He looks directly at me. “And I think we all remember what happened the last time you crossed the pass after sunset.”

I wince at the memory. I’d been twenty-four, reckless and overconfident, pushing my scouting party to continue despite the approaching nightfall. We ended up trapped in the mists for three days, amongst creatures that fed on fear and doubt. I’d lost two guards before Calder found us.

“The Twilight Mists?” Sapphire asks.

“An unpleasant feature of the southwest borderlands,” I tell her, keeping my tone even. “Twilight is hunting time for the… things that live there.”

“Things that even the Winter Court fears,” Lira adds, her usual stoicism slipping just enough to reveal genuine concern. “We’d do well to avoid them.”

Calder nods sharply. “I’ll signal the other carriages. We move in five minutes.” He gives me a pointed look. “Try not to get into any royal trouble before then, Riven.”

With that, he steps back, Lira following in his wake.

Sapphire turns to me, her eyes alight with curiosity. “So, embedded in the ceiling?”

I groan, leaning back against the plush carriage seat. “I was fourteen and thought I could counter a disarming move by jumping.”

“And?”

“There was no way to remove it without breaking the building.” I shake my head, smirking at the memory. “We needed to gather nearly the entire royal guard to extract it without causing a total collapse.”

Sapphire’s magic dances around her as she laughs—water droplets catching the light like tiny prisms, creating rainbows that shimmer against the carriage walls.

And for a second, I forget. I forget the weight of my crown, the blood on my hands, and the ghosts that follow me.

All I see is her. All I feel is this. The unbearable ache in my chest that only she can soothe .

I lean forward, silencing her laugh with a long, deep kiss.

She’s warm and sweet, her breath cool like spring water, and when she sighs against my lips, desire coils tight and hot. My grip on her waist tightens, pulling her closer until I can feel every soft curve pressed against me—tempting me, daring me to lose control.

I’m seconds away from breaking when a shout from outside signals the caravan’s imminent departure.

“These three days in this carriage are going to be quite…” I trail off, resting my forehead against hers and weaving my fingers through her silky hair as I search for the right word. “Unforgettable. I intend to see to it personally.”

“Careful, Winter Prince—three days is a long time,” she says with that smile I love more than my own life. “You might end up begging me for mercy.”

“That’s ‘husband’ to you,” I reply, and then we’re kissing again, this time, slower. Deeper. More dangerous.

She tastes like starlight and sin, and I want her everywhere—under me, around me, inside every crack I’ve tried to freeze shut. Her fingers thread into my hair, tugging just enough to make me growl against her mouth.

I don’t care that the caravan is moving. I don’t care that Ghost huffs at our feet, or that Calder is probably smirking from his saddle. Because the rest of the world can freeze. I’d let it, if it meant I got to keep kissing her like this for the rest of eternity.

We’re so lost in each other that we barely hear the crowd’s applause.

And then, the carriage lurches forward, carrying us toward whatever fate awaits us at the Summer Court.