"If you had stayed quiet about it, this wouldn't have happened!"
"I only told one soul. So if the news leaked, then I know exactly who said it!"
Varys studied Tia carefully, his lined face unreadable. The two of them stood in her chambers, tension hanging like smoke between them. If anyone in the Frost Empire knew the truth behind the Frost Heart, it was Varys.
The old Valerian had been one of the few who preserved Winter's Keep at the height of its glory.
He had advised the late king and queen, and though the triplets rarely listened, he remained their counsel. Together with Tia, he had kept the Frost Empire running since the day the royal couple was lost.
Now, with the first signs of the triplets' deteriorating, everything had shifted. Sahib, the sorceress, had named it clearly: the very thing that gave them power, the Frost Heart, was slowly killing them.
For two seasons, they had buried the truth. The triplets swore an oath of silence. If word got out that the mighty winter-born brothers were dying by the hand of their own magic, chaos would rise.
The world would see the Frost Empire as weak. Kingdoms would gather arms. Winter's Keep would be taken, its people, its throne, its legacy.
And so, they'd clung to secrecy. But now, the first leak had come.
"We both know what happens if the lords find out," Varys said, voice low. "When I heard the whispers in the village, I acted fast."
"Relax," Tia replied, swirling the wine in her glass with slow confidence. "I've already sent word to my sources. The rumors will die out before they catch flame."
"You'd better be certain," Varys muttered. "My head feels better on my neck than on a spike."
"And if it doesn't?" he added after a pause. "What do you plan to do with the one who opened his mouth?"
Tia gave a quiet, humorless laugh and took another sip of wine. "Kill him."
The old man sighed, shaking his head. "A lover, I presume."
"It makes no difference if you know, Varys."
His gaze sharpened. "And what of the girl? They've yet to touch her. You and I both know what happens if the year ends without an heir. The treaty won't protect her then."
Tia's voice turned firm. "It's our duty to make things happen quickly. She must bear a child, or everything we've built will crumble."
"Then we should prepare the cleansing ritual the moment they return," he said. "If there's still time."
Tia lifted her cup again, silently agreeing. Whatever peace remained in the Keep was thinning, danger pressed against its gates now, breathing closer by the day.
—
Blue caught the flicker of motion just as it fluttered past her window, a soft blur of color against the pale, frozen world. A butterfly.
She blinked, unsure at first if she was imagining things. But there it was again, drifting just beyond the glass like a dream come to life. A bright blue butterfly, gliding gently through the snowy air.
Without thinking, she stepped outside.
The cold bit at her cheeks instantly, but she didn't care. Wrapped in layers of thick furs, she moved slowly, drawn toward the creature with quiet wonder.
"What are you doing here?" she whispered to the butterfly as it danced before her. "It's far too cold for you…"
It didn't answer, of course. It simply flitted ahead, weaving between the bare, frosted trees like it was showing her something only she could see.
She followed.
Her feet crunched softly against the snow as she trailed behind it, smiling in spite of herself. In a place like Winter's Keep, silent, bitter, and filled with more shadows than warmth, small things like this felt like magic.
Not the kind of power that tore kingdoms apart or gave men silver eyes, but the quiet, beautiful kind. The kind that reminded her she was still alive.
She had learned by now that this place held strange surprises. Just the other day, she'd noticed a single red rose blooming stubbornly among the pale blue ones in the northern gardens. Just one. Alone.
And now this butterfly.
She chased it gently, laughter slipping past her lips in soft bursts of joy she hadn't felt in weeks. So focused on the creature, she didn't realize how far she'd wandered.
The Keep's gates loomed not far off when her foot sank unexpectedly into a patch of deeper snow.
"Oh—!" she gasped, stumbling slightly.
Bundled in too many layers to move quickly, she tried to tug her foot free. The snow clung tightly. She leaned down, gritting her teeth as she twisted her boot, muttering to herself.
She didn't hear the gates open behind her.
And she didn't see the figure approaching until strong arms reached down and pulled her up in one swift motion, lifting her from the snow and setting her onto solid ground.
Startled, she looked up, and met a pair of striking green eyes.
A man stood over her, his smile easy, his face unfamiliar and handsome in a way that made her breath catch.
"Careful now, princess," he said, brushing a bit of snow from her hair. "I wouldn't recommend getting stuck out here."
His voice was warm. Smooth. It curled around her, unfamiliar and disarming. Apart from her cold, frustrating husbands, she had never seen a face like his.
"Thank you," she managed, cheeks warming. "But I had it figured out."
He quirked a brow, amused. "That's not quite what I witnessed, princess."
Before she could say another word, a voice cut through the quiet like a whip.
"What the fuck are you doing out here?"
The air around her froze, colder than any snow.
She didn't need to turn. That voice, she knew too well.
Draven.
Slowly, she turned around and there they were. All three of them. Still mounted on their horses, still imposing, still staring at her like she was something they had dragged through the mud.
For days, she'd been free of their punishing eyes. For days, she could breathe. Now, just like that, the air vanished.
"I… I chased a butterfly…" she stammered, voice small, hands fidgeting beneath her furs.
"Did you hear that, brothers?" Laziel called out loudly, making sure the whole entourage behind him could hear. "The traitor wife chased a fucking butterfly."
Low laughter rumbled from their guards, but all she could feel were the stares. Mocking. Cutting into her skin.
"What stupid plan were you up to now?" Kael asked with a scowl.
"No—I wasn't—I was only—"
"Chasing the butterfly," Draven snapped, slicing into her words before they could form.
She flinched, eyes burning. She blinked hard, willing the tears not to fall.
"A little pity for your bride, my lord," the green-eyed man said, voice calm, though something unreadable danced behind his words. Whether he meant to help her or simply toy with danger, she couldn't tell. But he had guts.
"Pity is no word we know," Laziel spat, guiding his horse forward.
Kael followed, silent and stony. Draven stayed last, his cold eyes dragging over her figure before settling at her chest, just for a second. She caught it. She might have imagined it, but it felt like he was remembering the last time he touched her there
Then he turned away.
"Get back inside. Now!" he barked.
And he was gone.
She stood in the snow, breath shaky, limbs still trembling from the confrontation. The green-eyed man was still beside her, watching her with that same unreadable smile.
"I'm guessing you don't get along with your husbands," he said softly.
His words weren't cruel, but they weren't kind either. They hovered somewhere in between, like everything in this cursed kingdom.
Blue straightened, brushing snow from her skirt. Her throat felt tight, but her voice was steady when she looked up at him.
"You guessed right."
And then she turned and ran, back into the Keep, back into the cold halls and heavy walls, back into whatever awaited her next.