Claudius' POV

  The sunlight cutting through the window cast restless shadows across my room. I sat at the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, fingers laced together as I stared at the floor. Felipe’s orders barely registered anymore. They hadn’t for a while.

  My mother, the Dream Seer of Glacia, was gone.

  Felipe had told me a few days ago, his voice laced with something bitter, something almost mocking. I hadn’t believed him. She wouldn’t leave. Not like that. Not without telling me.

  But it had been days. If he was lying, I’d have found proof by now. Someone would have seen her. Someone would have said something.

  No one had.

  I still didn’t understand. Why would she flee the kingdom? Where would she even go? The invasion had turned everything into chaos, but she had always been cautious, careful. And yet, she was just… gone.

  I clenched my fists. Maybe she had no choice. Maybe Felipe did something. Or maybe… she chose to leave.

  That sat the worst with me.

  I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. No use thinking about it now. Felipe had given me an order, and if I wanted to avoid making things worse for myself, I needed to deal with Dorsey.

  I pushed myself off the bed, straightened my cravat, and stepped out of the room.

  ***

  Aside from my mother, Dorsey was the only one who knew about my special phantom ability—the one that let me read minds by inflicting pain.

  My heart hammered as I pictured Felipe's cold, calculating eyes—the way they bore into me when he gave me the impossible task.

  "Use your powers on Dorsey. Find out if she’s plotting against me."

  Felipe’s words still sent a chill down my spine. I couldn’t just ask Dorsey what she was thinking. I had to use my power. And that meant hurting her.

  A slap would be enough. The thought made me cringe.

  I scanned the room, like I’d magically find another way out of this, but of course, there wasn’t one.

  I sucked in a breath. I had to do this.

  Standing outside Dorsey’s mansion, I hesitated. My mother’s absence gnawed at the back of my mind. If she left willingly, then what? Had she abandoned me? Did she think I could handle Felipe’s games on my own? Or had she just… decided I wasn’t worth the effort anymore?

  I pushed the thought away and knocked.

  A second later, her voice cut through the door. “Come in.”

  I stepped inside, trying to move like a normal person, but my stiff posture probably gave me away. Dorsey, lounging in her chair, raised an eyebrow.

  “What is it, Claudius? You look like you just swallowed a live rat.”

  I cleared my throat. “I need to… read your mind.”

  She blinked. Then exhaled, slow and amused. “Oh, this should be good. Why?”

  Shifting uncomfortably, I blurted it out before I could overthink. “Felipe’s orders.”

  Silence.

  I could feel my face heating up. There was no way to explain this without sounding ridiculous.

  I reached out, hesitating, my hand hovering midair as though I actually might have to slap her.

  Dorsey leaned back, crossing her arms. “Claudius. Are you seriously considering slapping me?”

  I winced. “It’s not—look, I don’t want to, but—”

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  “You’re not slapping me.”

  “But Felipe—”

  “No. Absolutely not.”

  I let out a breath, part relief, part frustration. “You really won’t let me do it?”

  She scoffed. “Oh, sure, I’ll just stand here and let you whack me across the face like an idiot. Would you like me to thank you for it, too?”

  I sighed. “Then what the hell am I supposed to do? If I go back without anything, Felipe—”

  “—is an idiot,” she interrupted, crossing her arms as she leaned against her desk. “He may be a Class 5 fruit master, but that doesn’t mean his brain works like it.”

  I rolled my shoulders, trying to ease the tension. “Felipe’s not the problem, Dorsey. I can handle him. But my mother...”

  Her expression softened for a moment, but only for a moment. “Right, the Dream Seer. Everyone’s been whispering about her disappearance. Poor Claudius, all alone in the world.”

  I clenched my jaw. The pain of losing my mother was still fresh, still raw. It felt like a wound that wouldn't heal. “I don’t know what happened to her. I don’t know if she left or if—"

  “Or if Felipe had something to do with it?” Dorsey interrupted again, her voice quiet now, almost calculating. “I’ve been wondering about that myself.”

  I stared at her. “You really think he could’ve done something? He’s been too focused on the invasion, on Aerol’s death.”

  Dorsey raised an eyebrow. “And you think Skadar didn’t have a hand in any of it?” She exhaled sharply, then added, “That noble who let Arie get burned by Felipe, and stood by while General Sterling—our own damn general—sold us out to that tyrant.”

  My blood ran cold. “Skadar... he was supposed to protect her. He—he didn’t do a damn thing.”

  Dorsey smirked, but there was something dark in her eyes. “So you almost got yourself locked up for punching him. Seems like you’ve got a thing for saving princesses.”

  I shook my head, trying to shake off the fury that surged through me. “I don’t care about princesses right now. I care about getting answers. Why the hell didn’t he stop Felipe? And why the hell did Sterling sell us out?”

  She chuckled, though it lacked humor. “Oh, that’s easy. Because Felipe was pulling the strings from the start. The attack on our borders, the Wolfmen on our land—Sterling’s been in Felipe’s pocket for years, Claudius. You think they just ‘happened’ to show up?”

  I swallowed hard. I hadn’t wanted to face that truth, but Dorsey was right.

  She leaned in, voice a little softer. “You’ve got a lot of blood on your hands now, too. Aerol’s dead. Felipe’s manipulation has already cost us everything.”

  I felt a pang of guilt. “And I couldn’t stop it.”

  Her gaze softened, but only for a split second. “Neither could any of us.” She straightened up and shook her head. “But you want to go back empty-handed? Felipe will see that as weakness, and he’ll use it against you. So stop looking for answers in your past. You’ve got a future to save.”

  I nodded, forcing down the lump in my throat. She was right, and damn her, she always had a way of making things clearer—even if it was through sarcasm. But now wasn’t the time for that. I needed to focus.

  Dorsey leaned back against the desk again, her eyes narrowing. “So,” she said slowly, a smirk creeping back onto her face, “you still have that little crush on Arie?”

  I stiffened. “What?”

  “You heard me.” She smirked, her gaze cutting into me like a blade. “Your Ice Princess. The one Felipe declared dead. Not that I believe that for a second.”

  My throat tightened. I didn’t let myself think about Arie. About what Felipe did. What he said. Because there was nothing left to question. She was gone. Dead. No ‘maybe.’ No false hope. Just the truth.

  Dorsey must’ve caught something in my expression, because she rolled her eyes. “Come on, Claudius. You really think she’s dead? That girl’s too damn stubborn.”

  I exhaled sharply. “And if she is?”

  Dorsey scoffed. “Then I’ll make sure Felipe knows just how much he messed up. Not because I liked her, but because I refuse to let him think he can just do whatever he wants with us.” She tilted her head, her expression softening with a hint of something unspoken. “But you… you actually cared, didn’t you?”

  I clenched my jaw, unwilling to answer.

  Her smirk faltered. “I get it. I used to think she was innocent, too.”

  My stomach twisted. “Used to?”

  Her expression darkened. “That ‘sweet little act’ of hers got me locked in a dungeon for two days. Two days, Claudius. You think you’ve got it bad? At least you’re still here.”

  I swallowed. I remembered the trial. How she stood there, unmoving, while Dorsey hurled accusations. And yet, in the end, Dorsey had been the one convicted.

  I never knew what to believe.

  Dorsey let out a humorless laugh.

  “Guess we’ve both learned what it’s like to have a noose around our necks, huh?”

  I didn’t answer.

  She shook her head, pushing off the desk. “Enough about dead princesses. Let’s focus on keeping you alive.”

  I nodded, shoving every thought of Arie—of everything—deep into the back of my mind. For now, I had more immediate problems.

  ***

  Skadar's POV

  From a distance, I watch the new ice palace take shape, its unfinished form resembling more of a fortress than a palace. The familiar gleam of ice and diamond remains, but now iron is woven into its foundation—a blatant tribute to Felipe, to his armor, to his reign. It irritates me beyond words. That throne should have been mine.

  Never in my wildest dreams did I think a Wolfman would rule our kingdom—let alone him. A beast draped in human skin. A mangy, conniving animal playing king. And yet, in his ascension, the Polarmen have dwindled in number. A small consolation. Like the Wolf race, I have no love for those creatures. Whoever the ancient sorcerer was who first cursed this world with talking animals—surely, they perished in disgrace.

  A flicker of memory jolts me. Unbidden. Unforgiving.

  Arie.

  Her face lingers in my mind, frozen in that moment—shocked, horrified. It haunts me every waking second. I never would have done it. Not if my father weren’t the man he is. A loyal dog to Felipe, training me to be the same. I knew what was coming that night. Knew the palace would burn. Knew Aerol, foolish as ever, would fall with it. But what was I to do? The bastard Wolfman is a Class 5 Fruit Master—a rank above me. Even as a dual-element wielder, I was powerless.

  And he knew. He knew I was with her. That’s why he came to me, that very night, eyes burning, voice edged with warning. Where is she? If I so much as hesitated, he would have torn the truth from my throat. So I lied. I told him she struck me and fled. He believed it, of course. I’m a damn good liar.

  Nobody suspects a thing. Nobody except Claudius, the insufferable bookworm who refuses to let it go. He scours for answers as if he’ll uncover some grand truth, but he’s wasting his time. To Arie, he is nothing. Always has been. Always will be.

  But me?

  I will be her knight in shining armor.

  I imagine it—the iceberg crashing down, the ice shattering, the cold releasing her. I imagine her waking up, those sky-blue eyes regaining their light. I’ll be there, waiting, wrapping her in an expensive coat, my palms warming her frozen skin. I’ll tell her it’s over. Felipe is gone. No need to look back. Just forward—to us.

  She will thank me.

  We will marry.

  And I will sit beside her as the new Ice King.

  My fingers graze the letter in my pocket—the invitation she wrote, her elegant script weaving honeyed words, asking me to dance. I lift the parchment to my lips, pressing a kiss to the ink. Will she forgive me? Perhaps. Perhaps not.

  But it hardly matters.

  She’s already mine.

  I glance back at the ice palace rising in the distance. Its towering walls gleam under the cold sun, a monument of power, and soon, it would be our fortress.