Though Elodie's family was known for their extensive collection of tomes and journals, the royal library had more materials in one spot than any other place Elodie had ever seen. Granted, that wasn't difficult to do when she had never traveled farther than a city or two outside the Audric castle. The Audric family library was massive, and windows facing out to the courtyard provided some relief from the claustrophobic shelves that spanned three stories. The library had been expanded in recent years, primarily due to King Asrun's additions. The rows of shelves were separated by thin walkways, which were currently decorated with small garlands and offerings to fey, that they might not take any books or play any pranks during Yule.

Fire crackled in one grated corner of the library, with a pleasant-smelling smoke thanks to the pinecones swept into the massive stone fireplace that encased it. It burned several dozens of feet away from any shelves it might catch onto. Tending it with a stick was one of the two maesters that managed the royal collections.

They offered a cheerful wave when Elodie entered but left her to her business. This was because Elodie had been visiting the library since she had first learned to read, and in some ways, was like a third maester with how well she knew her way around. She always helped tidy up and gave baleful gazes to those who dared harm any of the tomes. In another life, she might have seriously considered pursuing it.

Now, she was bowed in one of the library's massive green velvet chairs, with several books on a side table beside her. The titles on the books' spines related to histories of the surrounding forests, and journal accounts from naturalists with beautifully labeled watercolor diagrams to more grounded forest usage ledgers and travel documentation from checkpoints throughout the countryside.

"This?"

A purple book came into her vision and flitted away. Ann carefully maneuvered around Fen, curled at Elodie's feet as a fox, and offered a book.

"Mm, yes, tha-" She stopped short and then remembered she was no longer in Thalia's forest. "Thank you." Her gaze trailed up the book to Ann's arm, where she could see a trace of the blackish skin underneath.

"What are you hoping to find?" Ann asked curiously. They had been here for hours, surfing through the pages of the kingdom's history.

"Something from the fairy queen's past. Anything. There's a very specific..."

Ann's hand spasmed, and time seemed to slow. The book fell from her trembling hand, the spine splaying the book out like a maw. Pages rustled against one another, and both women stared at one another. Then time sped back to its regular canter, and the book hit the ground with a dull thud. The sound startled Fen, who lifted his head, ears alert. When no threat was assessed, he laid back down.

Elodie unfurled herself and reached down for the book. Ann shooed her away, but Elodie could see the struggle and pain in the way she clutched her hands together and held them back from view.

"Allow me, miss," she insisted. Elodie didn't know why she persisted or pretended it was nothing.

Darkness spread over Elodie's face like a veil. The library's fireplace did nothing for the cold that clung to her skin. "Does it hurt?" she asked.

Ann looked surprised by the sudden question. "Don't worry about me."

Stubbornness filled Elodie's eyes, but she was too soft a soul to press with any real teeth. "It does, doesn't it?"

"A little," Ann admitted, "But I told you, I don't blame you, miss."

Elodie pursed her lips and went back to reading. It happened again when Ann combed her hair that night and again at breakfast the next day. Ann spasmed in pain in each instance, feigned deference, and deflected from the subject. Elodie reached a tipping point where she couldn't pretend to ignore Ann's pain any longer.

"This should be far enough," Elodie announced, breath materializing from her mouth in puffy round clouds.

"I should quite think so!" Ann retorted, her red cheeks curtained by a thick, furry hat. "Where in the world are we going?"

The two women trounced through a meadow, boots sloshing in half-melted snow. While it was still cold enough to make their teeth chatter, the sun was making a rare winter appearance, emerging from behind the clouds and revealing some of the landscape that had been hidden for weeks. Many nobles took the opportunity for sleigh rides pulled by elks, but Elodie had different intentions.

The ground made a slick, clogged noise as it was muddier than other areas in the clearing. It was an old walking trail that had been abandoned by most in recent years. In the past, Elodie would have found the walk to be a challenge, but after wayfinding in Thalia's forest, few terrains seemed challenging anymore.

Dark trees encircled them, giving a semblance of privacy even though they were outdoors. They got some distance from the castle, though it was still close enough that a scream would alert any wardens.

"Could I please have my wand?"

That is hardly a command.

She shook the wooden stick the way she'd seen Thalia do sometimes, and it extended, begrudgingly, into the full three-foot length cane it had once been. The crescent shape of its hood rotated elegantly, and the dark sphere that sat gently in its crest reflected the crystal clear sky above them.

Behind her, Ann made a soft noise of confusion, and Elodie looked at her with stern eyes. "I ... I know you're pretending. About your arm. Or ... avoiding it."

"Miss." Ann's voice came out trilled like she was learning to use it for the first time. She readjusted herself and continued with more determination, "I am making due."

"When I was in the woods with Thalia," Elodie continued, "They taught me a little about using instruments. Tools that can make your spells stronger. I ... I think I'm strong enough now to fix my mistake." Her voice dimmed, and the grip on her cane loosened. "But I won't try unless you agree." She didn't want to force Ann, not after being the one to place the grievous wound in the first place. She would understand if Ann didn't ever want to be involved with magic again.

A breeze moved through the clearing, and Ann didn't answer for a moment. "You faced the fairy queen ... for me?"

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Elodie was dumbfounded. "Wh-what?" A heady laugh moved through her chest but didn't quite make it out. "Of course I did!"

The heady feeling traveled to Ann, who held her features impassive as if trying to sort through each emotion she was feeling one by one. "I see."

Ann put a hand on her chin, and thoughtfulness creased her features. "I'm not sure. I'm a little scared." She spoke in a slow, measured tone, carefully mulling each word individually, "But if you believe you can do it, I will follow your command."

Elodie shook her head. "It isn't about what I want or how skilled I am. It's about what you want. I won't command you."

Ann's lips pursed together. "Can we start small?"

Honestly, Elodie wasn't sure. She tried to remember what Thalia had taught her about curses. Unless you knew the words spoken when the curse was placed and could convince your muse of a reversal, the only way to undo a curse was through pure force of will. She was lucky enough to remember the words spoken when the curse was placed (Take it away!), but convincing her muse was more difficult than assumed. It seemed to delight in her squirming, in Ann's pain.

"I think it has to be all or nothing ... maybe ... I'm not sure."

Ann sighed and acquiesced, "Very well. I put my trust in you, miss."

"I understand that you don't-" Elodie blinked. "Wait, you do?"

"Of course," Ann said plainly, as though explaining a very simple concept to a child. "You're my lady, and I trust you."

Elodie evaluated her expression, then nodded. "Fen, could you make sure we have some privacy?" It wasn't so much that oration was forbidden or that they'd get in trouble, but Elodie could only dream up the rumors someone like the Pedersons would come up with if they saw Elodie performing orations on another living being out in the woods. No, thank you. The rumors about her being a thrall of the fairy queen and temptress to the prince were already bad enough.

The gelert rose in mist billows from her shadow and formed as a shaggy wolf. His jaw unhinged wide enough for him to say, "It will be done," before he stalked off to the edge of the wood. Although his ears twitched with annoyance, a little wag in his tail betrayed the waves of satisfaction rolling through the air and brushing off his limbs.

"Will it hurt?" Ann asked once he had departed. She tugged at the cloth around her jacket arm, pinching the fabric the same way that Elodie did with her skirts.

That question was more complicated to answer. "I can't promise it won't. I learned as much as I could, but I'm still new."

She wondered if Thalia and Titania hadn't succeeded at reversing Oberon's curse because they were too afraid of harming Oberon in the process. Perhaps Oberon's will was more potent than Thalia and Titania's power combined. Her heart squeezed, imagining what it must be like to be unable to save the one you loved, knowing that it was their own will that opposed yours—trapped in a cage of inadequacy.

She shook the thoughts from her head, as though thinking on them too much would summon Thalia here. "But if it starts to hurt, or I feel myself losing control, I'll stop." That much she was sure of. She now knew what it felt like to lose control, and she had talked with her muse at length about the sensation and how to recognize it.

Elodie's knuckles had turned white. Ann wrapped one of her hands around Elodie's, and the chill of Ann's hands made Elodie jump. The other hand lifted her chin so that Elodie could see her aide's eyes, which were full of sincerity and friendship. "You will, young miss." An encouragement, an order. "Restraint has ever been among your talents."

Simple words reminded Elodie that being useful to others was not the same as being loved by others. A niggling thought wondered if that trust was misplaced, but she pushed it away. She now needed to concentrate on wording her request very precisely to avoid a second mishap.

With a deep breath, she told Ann, "Whenever you're ready, I can begin."

Ann nodded encouragingly, and the two women stepped back from one another. With a craned motion, Ann removed her coat, rolled up the sleeve of her blouse, and unstrapped the leather glove she wore. The damage had progressed since she last saw it in the infirmary; the skin had a bumpy, ridged quality the further up the arm it went. It covered nearly up to her shoulder and down to the tips of her fingernails. It looked cracked and painful. Elodie was very much reminded of the deadly gray numbness of frostbite, a familiar condition to anyone in Orsin, and was shocked that Ann had been as composed as she had been.

She turned her attention away from the arm and focused inward, more committed than ever. "Like we discussed," Elodie instructed.

No embellishments, the muse agreed, Fun as they might be.

Elodie closed her eyes to concentrate. The air pressure increased, and piles of wet snow floated just an inch or two off the ground. She twisted the cane in her hands so the crescent moon was perpendicular to the mud. Strands of hair lifted around her in a billowing cloud, and when she opened her eyes, they were glowing like lanterns on a snowy night, small beacons in the dark red rims of her skin.

"Where the wild bear clasps the ice-"

She expressed, borrowing the words given to her by her muse. Her voice was barely above a whisper but carried a calm authority.

"-and the berry strangled by snow, let the north wind be witness."

She had an answer now: her time in the woods hadn't been spent in vain. While Thalia taught her about oration during the day, Elodie spent the nights in deep discussion with her muse. Bargaining. Begging. Demanding. The conversation had been difficult because there seemed to be very little the muse wanted, or at least, very little they admitted to wanting. The muse had been cagey, engaging in the conversation with the enthusiasm of a bird pecking at a fruit rind. Strangest of all, it had been very insistent that healing was actually amongst its greatest skills, on par with its manipulation of ice.

Inch by inch, they'd eeked into an agreement: the removal of Ann's curse in exchange for a moment of unlimited control.

Elodie had already paid the price in the glade. It had been a gamble, and it was a miracle there weren't more consequences. But that was what Ann meant to her. She was willing to sacrifice that much for her.

"Ancient moon, sovereign of the northern lands."

The two voices resonated together in perfect agreement. Ann tried to stay still but couldn't help the instinctive flinch of her arms covering her face when pieces of wet slush began to crystallize into buffeting hail. When they dissipated into light against her skin, she lowered her arms, looking at Elodie in awe.

For the first time, Elodie didn't feel waves of nervousness or fear with her oration. Magic settled over her body like a thick wool coat. Her skin tingled with goosebumps. Invigorating and exhilarating instead of terrifying and new. Having practiced and prepared, the speech had fewer sharp edges, and the words came out clearly. She felt a surge of something like pride- no, maybe respect- that came from her muse as their voices joined as one.

"Carry light unto the fields; let drain the frozen well and mend the root of blood."

Sparkling motes of light now filled the air and hung suspended like dozens of fireflies. Elodie's eyes still glowed, but her expression softened, and she reveled in the feeling. The chaos still surged inside and threatened to overwhelm her, but she held it at bay. When she felt lopsided, like all the energy was moving to one side of her body, more energy poured out of the cane to fill the gap.

She felt ravenous, too. A feral kind of instinct that opened her senses. She could hear birds' wings flitting away in nearby trees, and underneath her, she listened to the pitter-patter of shrews warm in burrows under the snow. A gnawing, piercing hunger ate through her stomach, the same as the day she'd awoken as an orator. She pushed that away, too, knowing her muse's inclinations.

The motes of light coalesced in a tight ribbon around Ann's arm, which the aide held aloft in shock.

Then, a small giggle came from the usually composed woman.

"It tickles!" she reassured Elodie. Relief flooded into the magic ambient in the air around them. Elodie's very being ebbed into her words, her intentions made manifest.

Light faded, and the snow blended with dirt into mud. Tendrils of hair limply drooped to her sides, and she stumbled to find her footing again. Fen appeared under her hand in a cloud of mist to steady her fall at just the right moment. Had it worked ...?

Her gaze raised to Ann's arm, now a pale pink, quickly turning red in the cold.

"It doesn't hurt," Ann said breathily, staring at it in wonder for the miracle it was.

Her very being unknotted in relief. Elodie rushed forward and grasped Ann in a hug so tight she thought she might squeeze the newly mended arm off. The edges of Ann's hair tickled the rounds of her cheeks as she grinned from ear to ear. Tears soon poured out of her eyes, and she let out a single, strangled gasp.