Page 84 of Burning Star

It’s done. The oath is sealed.

I study my father for a long moment, weighing the sincerity in his eyes against decades of mistrust. Then, I place the ring back into his palm, closing his fingers around it.

“Keep your crown,” I tell him, my voice low enough that only he can hear. “But never forget how close I came to taking it from you.”

“I will remember,” he promises as he slips the ring back onto his finger.

With a slow exhale, I release his arm and turn to the royal box where Sapphire stands.

Water droplets shimmer around her like suspended stars, her eyes locked with mine across the distance. And through our bond, her love flows toward me, her magic shielding me from the whispers of the lonely future that could have been.

It’s not just approval, but pride. Protection. Unwavering love and devotion.

I am so insanely lucky to have her.

As Sapphire and I are losing ourselves in each other’s eyes—as we seem so often to do—my father turns to address the arena, his voice carrying renewed strength.

“The Trial of Frost and Blood is complete,” he declares. “My son has challenged me and won. He has united Winter and Summer, forging our courts into a single blade against the darkness of Night!”

The crowd erupts, a mixture of cheers and chatter spreading through the stands.

“Together,” he continues, gesturing to me and Sapphire, “the Prince and Princess of Winter and Summer will lead our warriors alongside the Summer Court. We’ll show the Night Court a power they’ve never dreamed possible, and our strength will blaze brighter than the stars, burning away their darkness until nothing remains but victory!”

RIVEN

The cheers grow louder,ice magic erupting from thousands of hands as the Winter Court celebrates this newfound alliance.

But slowly, something changes.

One noble from the lower stands—a high-ranking general who has served the court for centuries—kneels, his fist pressed against his heart. His ice magic spirals outward in a show of fealty, not to my father, but tome.

Then, another joins him. Lady Elaria, whose sons were executed on my father’s orders during the worst of his madness, accused of treason for questioning his judgment. Tears freeze on her cheeks as she bows her head in my direction.

One by one, they fall to their knees. Warriors. Nobles. Servants. All of them create a wave of respect that spreads through the stands like frost across a lake.

I keep my expression neutral, but ice crackles at my fingertips, betraying my emotions. Because this display of loyalty isn’t what I sought when I challenged my father. I wanted peace, unity, and strength against the Night Court—not to usurp his authority after I returned it to him.

Now, he watches the display with deep concentration, frost forming and melting on his knuckles as he processes the scene.

I brace for the rage. For the anger that would have consumed him in his madness.

Instead, he turns to me, the crowd momentarily forgotten, and something like wonder crosses his features.

“You are everything I tried to beat out of you,” he says quietly, “and that is why you have won.”

I blink, thrown off-balance by his words.

“Your compassion,” he continues, his voice low enough that only I can hear. “Your ability to feel, to connect, and to inspire loyalty through love rather than fear. Your mother saw it in you from the beginning.” He swallows, grief flashing over his eyes. “She would have been proud of the man you’ve become, and the king you could be.”

The ice beneath my feet cracks slightly, responding to the surge of emotion I refuse to show on my face.

“I’m not a king,” I remind him, since those are the only words I can bring myself to say without breaking right now.

Nor will Ieverbe a king. At least, not if I can help it.

“No.” He glances around at the kneeling crowd. “But they would follow you if you were. Because they loved her, and you have her spirit—her warmth beneath the ice, and her disregard for the rules when she believed she was doing what was right. She always said that true strength comes from having something worth fighting for—worthdyingfor.” His gaze drifts to the royal box, where Sapphire watches. “She was right.”

My eyes lock on Sapphire’s blue ones, and all I want is to be there, with her.

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