"CONSIDER IT A gift," The stranger claps my father on the back. His booming voice shatters the quiet of our small cottage. I cringe at the sound, so similar to the thunder. I don't even question how they have managed to follow so closely to Solaris and I.

My head whips around to see just who he thinks he is, fury coursing through my veins. "A gift?" I seethe, my eyes narrowing in disbelief.

"I'll have my necromancer come by and revive her. She'll be back in a months time with years ahead of her!" His grin is sickeningly sincere, but his words fall on deaf ears as disbelief and rage blind my vision with red.

Without hesitation, I find myself on my feet, marching towards him, the height difference suddenly irrelevant as the anger in my gut begins to boil.

"Kaia-" Orion rushes in between us.

The stranger stands confidently before me, entirely unfazed by my sudden aggression. The sound of his laughter is like wind chimes, each note a playful, silvery ripple. His smile is a marvel. Between perfect dimples, teeth gleam like polished ivory against the backdrop of his warm complexion. Each tooth meticulously sculpted, perfectly straight and as dazzlingly white as the snow he caused.

It only makes me angrier.

His eyes twinkle mischievously as he takes a step back, raising his hands in a placating gesture.

But they no longer freeze me in place.

The sight of Aunt Elora, Solaris's mournful screams outside, Jovanna and Circe - they are all that flood my mind.

"Easy there," he says with a chuckle. " I mean you no harm. I simply have a solution for your current predicament."

My hands clench into fists, nails digging into my palms as I struggle to contain the rage threatening to consume me. His callous disregard rings in my ear.

"Predicament? She's dead!" The words come out through lividly bared teeth.

"Kaia," Orion warns again. "Stand down!" His voice slices through the air, sharp as a scythe as he firmly places both his hands on my shoulders.

But it is not just a warning. I finally meet Orion's gaze and realize what has left my father's mouth is a threat. The cold before was nothing compared to the chill in my bones now.

His usually warm golden honey eyes are clouded with something else, something darker, something I can't quite place.

For a moment, I simply stare, unable to comprehend the shift in his demeanor. The man before me could be a stranger, my fathers features twisted by an unfamiliar intensity. Gone is the gentle warmth I've always known from him, replaced now by a steely resolve that sent shivers down my spine.

I shake off Orion's hands and take a step back. My chest rises and falls, but I can't seem to catch my breath all the same. Now that I've looked away from Aunt Elora I can't seem to bring my eyes to her again. She has always brought me comfort, but now her presence only adds pressure to the room.

The stranger's smile falters for a brief moment before he regains his composure. "Please excuse me. You have my deepest apologizes for the destruction caused by my arrival. The fault is mine and I will personally see it repaired by daybreak. This is the only casualty and you have my solemn vow I will have it reversed."

I don't ask why the stranger is assuming Aunt Elora is the only one who died, but I hope for his sake that he is correct. Even so, it will take decades for our village to recover from a storm like this. The shops, the market stands, the fountains, the statues, the flowers, the gardens, the ships, the dock, the sea glass mosaics, the homes, the hurt people. Thoughts swirl in a frenzy so chaotic, I don't put together what reversing a casualty could even mean.

"We appreciate and accept your generous offer," My father forces through gritted teeth, and gives a stiff bow, his eyes never leaving the stranger's face, "Prince Noadok."

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A prince?

A fae prince.

The words hang heavy in the air, dripping with false honor and forced hospitality. All the pleasantries in the world can't mask the tension swirling in the air.

Prince Noadok's smile widens at my father's formal acceptance of his offer. The corners of his eyes crinkle with amusement, a glint of something unreadable flashing in their depths.

"It is settled then," he declares, his voice smooth as silk. "I will send for my necromancer to revive her. She will return to you soon, whole and hale." His words linger in the frigid air, a promise hanging between us like a fragile thread.

"Revive her?" I echo, disbelief and hope warring within me. "Is... is that even possible?"

"I am a living testament to it myself." Prince Noadok winks.

My scalp prickles, and as if on cue, a solitary raven caws outside, its call echoing in the bleak silence of the room.

"Don't worry," he reassures. "I have already arranged for it."

I press my lips together, trying to gather my thoughts.

"Dusk falls," his thunderous voice commands us even more than the unyielding storm. "We should give Aunt Elora her peace."

Prince Noadok closes his eyes for a moment, a serene expression crossing his features as he lifts his hands in the air.

All of nature seems to hold its breath.

Suddenly, with a flick of his wrist, a gust of wind stirs, lifting stray strands of hair and billowing the fabric of our clothes. The gusts brush against my skin, making me pull the pelt tighter around me.

Snowflakes twirl in the wind, sparkling in a mesmerizing dance, swirling faster and faster until they slowly lift Aunt Elora's lifeless body outside. She's laid gently in the midst of her garden. The flakes begin solidifying into a stunning sculpture of ice around her form.

No, not a sculpture.

A casket.

The panels, as thin as glass and etched with delicate frozen lace, gleam in the dying light of dusk.

The light has became a stranger to me, and I squint when it hits.

The prince's eyes snap open. "Her body will be safe there. By the time the ice thaws, she will be alive again. And much stronger."

For a moment, I almost believe that Aunt Elora is not dead but merely slumbering within. I can not help myself as I step out and walk towards her, dropping next to the casket. I pressing myself as close as I can, until I'm face to face with her. I hold my hand to the ice, waiting for it to melt under my touch, but it never does.

Her silver braided crown is still only halfway done now. I wish he had let me finish it.

The casket is smooth and cold to the touch, sending shivers across my skin as I run my hand along its frozen surface. I lean against it for stability as if it were lifeline to my own existence. As if it's me in there instead.

I can feel the weight of Prince Noadok's gaze on me. Raw power emanates from him, a force that commands attention and respect. My heart races, my mind filled with questions and uncertainties. What else is he capable of?

I attempt to breathe deeply, but my chest tightens, and I can only manage a choked gasp.

"I understand this is a lot to take in," Prince Noadok speaks, his voice softer now, gentle.

"And I offer my sincerest condolences for the loss your village has suffered," Prince Noadok continues, his eyes holding a glimmer of sympathy. "But trust me when I say that Aunt Elora will be returned to you. The power of the necromancer is not to be underestimated... just ask your father."

The chill from that word doesn't hit me all at once. It starts as a slow creep, like ice freezing over the surface of a pond.

Necromancer.

I look up at Orion, searching for some sign of what he's thinking, of what Prince Noadok is implying, and Orion stiffens, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features before forcing a mask of stoicism that reveals nothing.

As I study him, the tension in his jawline, the tightness around his eyes, it betrays his unease.

I've never seen him so shaken, so vulnerable in the presence of another. And yet, he holds onto his pride like a captain clinging to the mast in a raging sea.

My father speaks without raising his eyes. "Perhaps now would suffice for an appropriate time to begin repairs, Prince Noadok. Darkness falls."

The last light of dusk is fading into night, casting long shadows across the frozen landscape outside, and I feel a chill grip my heart.

As Prince Noadok nods his head in agreement to Orion's suggestion. Foreboding settles over me like a thick fog.

"I'll leave you to your grief," the prince says, his voice carrying a weight I cannot comprehend. "This can be continued in the morning."

I watch his retreating figure until he disappears from my field of vision entirely, a mysterious aura surrounding him like an invisible cloak. Then I turn back to Aunt Elora, my fingers trace the intricate patterns on the ice casket, a silent prayer whispered.

The weight of uncertainty settles upon us like a heavy blanket. My father moves to stand beside me.

My throat is raw and angry, but I force myself to speak anyway.

"Who was that?"

"I can not speak of him now," my father replies, his voice barely above a whisper. He still does not meet my eyes.

I sit up, gritting my teeth, and allow myself to be guided up by Orion. My knees throb under my weight as I stand; the cold has rendered them numb and weak. The warmth of his arms is something I wasn't sure if I would ever feel again, and I sink into the familiarity of his chest as if I'm a small child again.

"She's dead," I wish I could manage to say more, but the words scrap painfully as they leave my mouth.

"She will return to us," Orion whispers into my hair.

"You swear?"

"I swear."