Page 72 of Burning Star

He scoffs, folding his arms over his fur cloak. “The Night Court is a children’s tale to scare young fae,” he says, brushing it off. “One I banned from my court a millennium ago.”

“The Night Court is real,” Sapphire counters, and my magic hums at my fingertips, fighting to break free—to protect her from anything my father might throw at her. “We encountered a night fae ourselves. We captured her. Weinterrogatedher.”

The guards in the room shift on their feet.

I move closer to Sapphire, our shoulders touching.

“They’re the ones abducting winter fae from our borders,” I start where she left off. “They’re turning us into what they are—hybrids of winter fae and vampires.”

My father presses his lips together, rage swirling in his eyes.

Heknew.

Somehow—impossibly—he knew.

“The Night Court has allied with the Blood Coven to resurrect Ambrogio, the first vampire,” I continue, pushing him further.

Ice explodes from the floor around his throne, spearing upward in chaotic patterns.

“Ambrogio is a myth,” he hisses, but there’s a new fear in his eyes, as if he knows just how much danger thismythmight pose.

“He’s real,” I say. “And the Night King and Queen plan for their court to join the Blood Coven and become Revenants—beings with the powers of both vampires and fae, but far stronger than either.”

Sapphire’s voice joins mine, calm but urgent. “United, as Summer and Winter, we can defeat them,” she says, and my father’s breathing quickens, ice crackling up the walls.

“Spies... conspiracies... ancient vampires resurrected…” he mutters, pacing erratically. “Plots within plots. The courts merging, magic changing its nature...” He whirls on us, frost rolling in unstable waves beneath his feet, icicles lengthening overhead. “You dare spin these impossibilities to cloud my mind?”

I move slowly, deliberately, every gesture measured to avoid triggering another outburst. Because my father’s madness comes in waves. And now I see it in his eyes—the moments of clarity drowning beneath chaos.

“I bring more than stories and alliances,” I say calmly, careful not to challenge him.

His frost-laced stare drills into me, daring me to falter.

When I was a child, I might have stumbled. Now, not so much.

“As I mentioned, I’ve been working on a project for years,” I continue. “One I began long before this chaos escalated, that can help bring you clarity.”

His brow twitches, suspicion sharp and immediate. “Clarity,” he repeats, the icicles from the ceiling inching closer to the floor. “You think I’mclouded?”

Sapphire shifts beside me, her fingers twitching, seemingly ready to use the Star Disc if this goes wrong.

I choose my next words with the same precision I use while forging a blade.

“I think you carry the weight of centuries on your shoulders,” I say, pulling a small glass vial from my cloak. “This potion isn’t meant to weaken your rule. It’s meant to sharpen your vision. Because with the Night Court rising, we need every weapon we can get, including the strongest mind in the Winter Court.Yours.”

He clenches his fists, his eyes darting around the room as he digests my words.

“You speak of war,” he finally states, his voice gaining steadiness as the calculating edge returns.

“I do.” I hold his gaze. “The Night Court believes us divided. They think they can crush both Winter and Summer while we remain torn by old grudges.” I tilt my head toward Sapphire. “Our marriage is one step toward true unity. This potion is another. It will free your mind of doubt and confusion, so we can face the darkness head-on, together.”

Sapphire’s hand brushes mine, our magic mingling.

My father stares at the vial, then lifts his gaze to me.

“Is this why you killed my knights?” he snaps, jarring me so much that I almost flinch. “To protect this potion?”

Slowly, I inhale, steadying myself with the imagery of a layer of ice around my heart. Frost curls through me, my chest tightening as I push down the brewing storm of emotions—the pain, the anger, the betrayal, and the grief—desperate to cling to this final attempt at peace.

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