Page 86 of The Alien's Cruel Starfrost Domain

“Your Lordship!” He drops into a hasty bow. “Urgent news from His Highness.”

“Speak.”

The messenger straightens, his voice carrying the practiced cadence of one who has memorized his message precisely. “His Highness Prince Jonyk sends his deepest regrets, but he must proceed directly to the Ice Palace. He cannot break his journey at Starfrost Manor as planned.”

Ice crystals shiver in the air around me as fury rises in my chest. “His entourage?”

“Will arrive as scheduled, Your Lordship. His Highness felt it would be discourteous to disappoint you entirely.”

Discourteous. My laugh emerges harsh and cold. “How thoughtful of him.”

As the messenger bows and withdraws, my mind races. Has word of what I did to Svalkat reached Jonyk already? It must have—the baron would have ensured that. But if Jonyk knows I maimed and banished his spy, why send his retinue into what he must suspect is a trap?

Unless he’s using his courtiers as bait, testing me. Seeing if I’ll dare to move against them without him present. Or perhaps he hopes to provoke me into revealing my hand.

No, I remind myself. If Jonyk truly suspected me of treason, he wouldn’t risk his loyal followers. Which means either he doesn’t know anything.

Or—worse—he knows exactly what I’m planning and is moving to counter it.

I need to communicate with Vazor. If Jonyk’s absence is a calculated move rather than simple caution after Svalkat’s dismissal, all our careful plans may need to change.

But first, I want to find Lara?—

No.

There’s no time for what I want. Not anymore.

Tonight must proceed mostly as planned. Jonyk’s absence changes nothing—may even make things easier, if he truly doesn’t suspect the full scope of what I’ve set in motion.

I head for my study, my steps quick and purposeful. I need to get a message to Vazor to ensure he understands that while Jonyk’s absence may be strategic rather than fearful, it doesn’t matter.

The plan proceeds. It has to.

I reach my study and lock the door behind me. Pulling out a fresh sheet of paper, I begin composing my messageto Vazor. I seal the message with my personal sigil, then summon Khrint. He appears within moments, as if he’s been waiting nearby.

“Have this delivered to our usual contact,” I tell him. “Immediately.”

He bows and withdraws, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Everything balances on a knife’s edge now. One wrong move and it all collapses.

But if we succeed...

I move to the window, staring out at the snowy grounds. I press my hand against the cold glass, watching frost spread from my fingers.

By tomorrow, nothing will ever be the same.

The sunlight filtering through the windows still does nothing to warm Starfrost Manor when I make my way down to the kitchen a few clicks later.

Each step feels heavier than the last. Not from dread—I passed that point long ago—but from the sheer mass of plans layered upon plans, lies stacked on lies until sometimes they feel as though they threaten to crush me.

I pause outside the kitchen door, listening to the controlled chaos within. Adefina’s voice rises above the clatter of pots and pans, issuing rapid-fire instructions with her usual Starcaix practicality—though I hear her throw in a few Earth colloquialisms she’s picked up from Lara over the last year.

Lara. My jaw clenches at the thought of her as I push through the door, and the kitchen falls silent save for the crackling of the hearth fire.

Adefina turns from where she’s supervising the preparation of what appears to be an entire herd’s worth of meat, artfully arranged on silver platters.

“Your Lordship.” She dips into a curtsy, managing to make thegesture seem both respectful and slightly sardonic. “Come to check on the preparations?”

With a nod, I move closer to inspect the platters. “These look perfect.”

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