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She imagined lashing out at the queen with those ice-solid fists. She imagined her hands shattering into a thousand icicle shards.
It was at her shoulders now. Her neck.
Even over the popping and cracking of the ice, she heard the cut of flesh. The burble of blood. A muffled gag. The hard slump of the body.
Bile squirmed up Winter’s throat. The cold had stolen into her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut, reminding herself to be calm, to breathe. She could hear Jacin’s steady voice in her head, his hands gripping her shoulders. It isn’t real, Princess. It’s only an illusion.
Usually it helped, even just the memory of him coaxing her through the panic. But this time, it seemed to prompt the ice on. Encompassing her rib cage. Gnawing into her stomach. Hardening over her heart. Freezing her from the inside out.
Listen to my voice.
Jacin wasn’t there.
Stay with me.
Jacin was gone.
It’s all in your head.
She heard the clomping of the guards’ boots as they approached the body. The corpse being slid toward the ledge. The shove. Moments later, the splash down below.
The court applauded with quiet politeness.
Winter felt her toes snap off. One. By. One.
She was almost too numb to notice.
“Very good,” said Queen Levana. “Thaumaturge Tavaler, see to it that the rest of the sentencing is duly carried out.”
“Yes, My Queen.”
Winter forced her eyes open. The ice had made its way up her throat now, was climbing over her jawline. There were tears freezing inside their ducts. There was saliva crystallizing on her tongue.
In the center of the room, a servant was cleaning the blood from the tiles. Aimery was rubbing his knife with a cloth. He met Winter’s gaze and his smile was searing. “I am afraid the princess has no stomach for these proceedings.”
The nobles in the audience tittered—Winter’s disgust of the trials was a source of merriment to most of Levana’s court.
She heard the rustle of her stepmother’s gown as the queen turned to peer down at her, but Winter couldn’t look up. She was a girl made of ice and glass. Her teeth were brittle, her lungs too easily shattered.
“Yes,” said Levana. “I often forget she’s here at all. You’re about as useless as a rag doll, aren’t you, Winter?”
The audience chuckled again, louder now, as if the queen had given permission to mock the young princess. But Winter couldn’t respond, not to the queen, not to the laughter. She kept her gaze pi
“Oh no, she isn’t quite as useless as that,” Aimery said, still smiling. As Winter stared, a thin crimson line drew itself across his throat, blood bubbling up from the wound. “The prettiest girl on all of Luna? She will make some member of this court a very happy bride someday, I should think.”
“The prettiest girl, Aimery?” Levana’s light tone almost concealed the snarl beneath.
Aimery seamlessly slipped into a bow. “Prettiest only, My Queen. But no mortal could compare with your perfection.”
The court was quick to agree, offering a hundred compliments at once, though Winter could still feel the leering gazes of more than one noble attached to her.
Aimery took a step toward the throne and his severed head tipped off, thunking against the marble and rolling, rolling, rolling, until it stopped right at Winter’s frozen feet.
Still smiling.
She whimpered, but the sound was buried beneath the snow in her throat.
It’s all in your head.
“Silence,” said Levana, once she’d had her share of praise. “Are we finished?”
Finally, the ice found her eyes and Winter had no choice but to shut them against Aimery’s headless apparition, enclosing herself in cold and darkness.
She would die here and not complain. She would be buried beneath this avalanche of lifelessness. She would never have to witness another murder again.
“There is one more prisoner still to be tried, My Queen.” Aimery’s voice echoed in the cold hollowness of Winter’s head. “Sir Jacin Clay, royal guard, pilot, and assigned protector of Thaumaturge Sybil Mira.”
Winter gasped and the ice shattered, a million sharp glittering bits exploding across the throne room and skidding across the floor. No one else heard them. No one else noticed.
Aimery, head very much attached, was watching her again, as if he’d been waiting to see her reaction. His smirk was subtle as he returned his attention to the queen.
“Ah, yes,” said Levana. “Bring him in.”
Two
The doors to the throne room opened, and there he was, walking stiffly between two guards, his wrists corded behind his back. His blond hair was clumped and matted, strands of it clinging to his jaw. It appeared to have been a fair while since he’d last showered or enjoyed a full meal, but Winter could detect no obvious sign of abuse.
Her stomach flipped. All the heat that the ice had sucked out of her came rushing back to the surface of her skin.
Stay with me, Princess. Listen to my voice, Princess.
He was led to the center of the room, devoid of expression. Winter jabbed her fingernails into her palms.
Jacin didn’t look at her. Not once.
“Jacin Clay,” said Aimery, “you have been charged with betraying the crown by failing to protect Thaumaturge Mira, an action which ultimately resulted in her untimely death at the hands of the enemy, and also by failing to apprehend a known Lunar fugitive despite nearly two weeks spent in said fugitive’s company. You are a traitor to Luna and to our queen. These crimes are punishable by death. What have you to say in your defense?”
Winter’s heart thundered like a drum against her ribs. She tore her gaze from Jacin and looked pleadingly up at her stepmother, but Levana was not paying any attention to her.
“I plead guilty to all stated crimes,” said Jacin, drawing Winter’s attention back, “except for the accusation that I am a traitor.”
Levana’s fingernails fluttered against the arm of her throne. “Explain yourself.”
Jacin stood as tall and stalwart as if he’d been in uniform, as if he were on duty, not on trial. “As I’ve said before, I did not apprehend the fugitive while in her company because I was attempting to convince her that I could be trusted, in order to gather information that I could later relay to my queen.”
“Ah yes, you were spying on her and her friends,” said Levana. “I do recall that excuse from when you were captured. I also recall that you had no pertinent information to give me, only lies.”
“Not lies, My Queen, though I will admit that I underestimated the cyborg and her abilities. She was clearly disguising them from me.”
“So much for earning her trust.” There was mocking in the queen’s tone.
“Knowledge of the cyborg’s skills was not the only information I sought, My Queen.”
“I suggest you stop playing with words, Sir Clay. My patience with you is already thin.”
Winter’s heart shriveled. Not Jacin. She could not sit here and watch them kill Jacin.
She would bargain for him, she decided, though the decision came with an obvious flaw. What did she have to bargain with? Nothing but her own life, and she knew Levana would not accept that.
Perhaps she could throw a fit. Go into hysterics. It would hardly be a stretch from the truth at this point, and it might distract them for a time, but she knew it would only delay the inevitable.
She had felt helpless so many times in her life, but never like this.
Only one thing to be done, then.
She would throw her own body in front of the blade.
Oh, Jacin would hate that.
Ignorant of Winter’s newest resolve, Jacin respectfully inclined his head. “During my time with Linh Cinder, I uncovered information about a device that can nullify the effects of the Lunar gift when co