Princess Rainy pressed her palm to the fountain, and the water rose to meet it. She was twenty-one, and she still did not know why. Why her hair was white as the moon. Why she could bend and control water. No one in the pale-stoned castle shared her look, not her mother, not her father. She pulled a ribbon of water into the air and shaped a horse. It galloped in a slow circle above the basin. Then she made a dancing couple, spinning them until the drops caught the light. She could do this. She had always been able to do this. She wanted, more than anything, to know what it meant. Her white lynx lay at her boots, tail flicking. She dropped the water back into the fountain and rubbed the cat's tufted ear. "They stare at me," she told it. "The servants. Even the guards. Like I fell from somewhere else." The lynx blinked its calm eyes. It never stared. Rainy turned. Her mother stood on the path, blonde curls loose over the shoulders of her sky-blue gown. Queen Della came often to scold her for skipping court. She did not look ready to scold. Her eyes were wet. "Mother?" Rainy said. The queen sat on the fountain's edge, close, and took her daughter's hand. "You keep asking me why your hair is white. Why the water listens to you." She drew a breath. "I never told you the truth. I was afraid of it." Rainy went still. The lynx lifted its head. "I got sick, long before you were born," Della said. "The healers told me I could never carry a child. I wanted only one. Just one." Her voice broke. "I cried every day for a year. I stopped eating. Your father thought he would lose me too." "You never said any of this," Rainy whispered. "I begged the gods every night on my knees." Della looked up at the moon already faint in the daylight sky. "The moon goddess heard me. She gave me you. That is why your hair holds her light. That is why the water answers you. You were her gift, Rainy. You were never truly ours to make." Rainy pulled her hand back and stood. The water in the basin trembled, matching her heartbeat. She had wanted an answer for years. Now she had one, and it split the ground under her. "Then I'm not from here," she said slowly. "Not really." "You are my daughter," Della said, rising. "But there are others who might know better like me or even know this goddess." Rainy's chest tightened with something new and sharp. "People who understand this power. I have to find them." Della's face went pale. She had answered one question and opened a hundred worse ones. "There is a tribe far north hidden in the mountains, They worship the old gods and goddesses, they may help you.” Her voice cracked.

That night, Rainy could not sleep. Her mother's words spun in her head. A tribe in the north. People who might understand her. By dawn she had made up her mind. She would ask her father for leave to go. She dressed in her sky-blue traveling clothes and pale boots. Her white lynx rose from the foot of the bed and followed her down the long halls of the pale-stoned castle. Its claws clicked on the stone floor. The throne room doors stood tall and heavy. Rainy pushed them open. Her father waited on the dais. King Anthony was a broad man with dark hair and a scruffy beard. His silver crown sat crooked, as if he had put it on in a hurry. He ruled hard, but his hands had always been gentle with her. He watched her cross the floor, and his stern face softened. "Come, my child," he said. Rainy climbed the steps and bowed her head. She took his rough, warm hands in hers. They were the same hands that had lifted her onto her first horse. "Father, I want to travel to the tribe in the north," she said. "Mother told me they may know why I am the way I am. I have to go." His grip tightened. "The north." He said the word like a wound. "Do you know what lies between here and those mountains? Frozen passes. Wolves. Men who would take a princess for ransom." He stood and walked to the tall window. Outside, the blue-green domes and spires of the castle caught the morning light. "I have lost too much to give the mountains my daughter." "I am not helpless," Rainy said. She lifted her hand. From a basin by the wall, water rose and coiled in the air. "The water listens to me. You have seen it." Her father turned. He looked at the floating water, then at her white hair. Something shifted in his face. Fear, and pride pulling against it. "I will not stop you," he said at last. Rainy's heart leapt. Then he raised one finger. "But I set a condition. You will not ride out alone. I will send word today for a guide. Someone who knows the passes. You wait until he comes. Swear it." The water dropped back into the basin. It was not the free leave she wanted. But it was leave. "I swear it," Rainy said. King Anthony pulled her into his arms. His beard scratched her cheek. "Then it is done," he said. "May the goddess who gave you watch the road." Rainy left the throne room with her promise made. She had won her father's blessing. Now she was bound to wait for a stranger she had never met, a man chosen to lead her into the very danger her father feared. The journey had a start. She only lacked the one person who could begin it.

Three days passed, and no guide came. Rainy paced the halls of the pale-stoned castle with its blue-green domes above her. She had sworn to wait, but waiting scraped at her. Her white lynx trailed behind, its claws ticking on the floor. Each morning she watched the road from a high arch. Each evening it stayed empty. On the fourth day, she stopped watching and went to find her father. King Anthony sat alone in a small room off the throne hall. A stack of letters covered the table before him. His silver crown lay beside them, set down as if it weighed too much. He looked up when she entered, and his stern face eased the way it always did for her. "The guide has not come," Rainy said. "You told me to wait. I have. Now I want to know who I am waiting for." Her father set down his quill. He rubbed his beard, then gestured to the chair across from him. "Sit, my child. You have earned an answer." Rainy sat. The lynx settled at her feet. "The man I sent for is a prince," King Anthony said. "His name is Rowan. His father and I were friends when we were young men, before either of us wore a crown. We rode together. We fought together. I trust few men. I trust him." "A prince," Rainy said. "From where?" "The northern kingdom. His son grew up in the mountains you want to cross." Her father leaned forward. "Rowan does not sit in a hall like his young sister. He wanders. He knows the passes the way you know your own halls. There is no better man to lead you north." Rainy felt something loosen in her chest. She had pictured a hired stranger, a paid sword who would resent the road. Instead her father had sent for a friend's son. Someone who chose the wild for himself. "Then why is he late?" she asked. King Anthony's face darkened. He picked up one of the letters and turned it in his rough hands. "That is what troubles me. Word came this morning. A storm has closed the northern passes. Rowan sent a rider ahead. He is coming, but slowly. He cannot risk the ice." Rainy took the letter from him and read it herself. The writing was quick and bold. It named the storm. It named three or four more days of delay. She set the letter down. She had her answer now. She knew who she waited for and why he had not come. The guide was real, and he was good, and he was trapped behind the same mountains that held her secrets. "Then I will wait a little longer," Rainy said. Her father nodded. But she felt the road change under her feet. The journey was no longer a question of leaving. It was a question of the storm, and how long it would keep the north locked against her.

The waiting ended on a gray morning. Rainy woke to a knock, then her mother's voice at the door. Queen Della stood in the hall, her blonde hair loose over her sky-blue gown. Behind her waited King Anthony, his silver crown already on his head. "Come with us," her mother said. "We have something for your journey." Rainy dressed fast. Her white lynx rose and followed as they led her down through the pale stone halls of the castle. They crossed a courtyard under the blue-green domes and came to the stables. The smell of straw and animals filled the cold air. Rainy's father stopped at a wide stall and looked back at her. "You cannot cross the mountains on a horse," he said. "The ice would break its legs." He unlatched the door. Inside stood a sabre-toothed tiger. Its long white fangs curved past its jaw. Orange fur striped its huge shoulders. A white saddle sat on its back, and white reins hung from its mouth. Rainy stepped back. The lynx pressed low against her boots. "She is trained," King Anthony said. "She climbs where no horse can. She kept your grandfather safe in the passes long ago." He held out the reins. "She is yours now." Rainy did not take them. She stared at the great cat. Its yellow eyes watched her, calm and steady. Slowly she lifted her hand. She let the tiger smell her fingers. It huffed warm breath across her palm and did not pull away. Queen Della came close. She rested a hand on Rainy's shoulder. "I hate that you go," she said. "But you must know who you are. This one will carry you there and back." Her eyes were wet, but she did not cry. Rainy set her foot in the stirrup and pulled herself up. The saddle held her firm. From the tiger's back the stable looked small. She gathered the white reins. The great cat shifted under her, sure and strong. Her lynx paced below, tail high, unafraid. "Thank you," Rainy said. Her voice caught. "Both of you." Her father laid his rough hand on the tiger's flank. "Rowan will meet you at the foot of the north road. The passes are opening. You leave at dawn tomorrow." He looked up at his daughter. "You are ready. I only wish I were." Rainy climbed down. She held the reins now, and the weight of them felt real. The journey was no longer a thing she waited for. She had the mount to cross the ice. She had a guide waiting at the road's end. Nothing kept her here but one last night. Tomorrow she would ride north to find the truth about her white hair, her water, and herself.

Rainy woke before dawn, ready to ride. She dressed in her sky-blue clothes and pulled on her pale hide boots. But when she stepped into the courtyard, the wind hit her like a wall. Snow fell sideways. The blue-green domes of the castle vanished in the white. The storm had not passed. It had grown worse. The tiger waited by the stable door, saddle white with frost. Her lynx crouched low, ears flat against the wind. Rainy set her hand on the great cat's flank. She meant to ride anyway. Rowan waited at the north road. She would not make him wait longer. Her father found her there. King Anthony stood in the storm with no cloak, his dark hair whipping, his silver crown wet with snow. He had run from the hall the moment a guard woke him. "Get down," he said. His voice was hard. "You will not ride into that." "Rowan is waiting," Rainy said. "I gave my word to leave at dawn." "The passes are choked with ice." He gripped the tiger's reins in his fist. "Men die in storms like this. Their horses fall through the crust and freeze. I lost a friend that way, in this very range." His hand shook, not from cold. "I will not lose you to a single day." Rainy looked north. The mountains hid behind the white. She knew the cost of forcing what should wait. The truth about her hair, her powers, her people would still be there when the sky cleared. "One day," she said. "I will wait one day." Her father's shoulders dropped. He pressed his forehead to hers. Snow melted between them. "One day," he agreed. They led the tiger back into the stable. Rainy rubbed frost from its fur while the lynx circled her boots. The storm howled against the roof. She was worried about Rowan and she did not even know him. By afternoon the snow thinned. By evening it stopped. A messenger returned from the north road, boots caked in ice. He knelt before Rainy and her father in the hall. "I could not reach Prince Rowan," the man said. "He did not wait at the road. A herder saw him ride into the passes at first light, alone, before the storm broke." He swallowed. "No one has seen him come out." Rainy stood. The fire cracked behind her. Rowan had gone into the ice without her, and now the man who knew every pass was lost somewhere in the white. Her guide was gone. She would have to find him herself. Tomorrow she rode north not just for the truth, but to save the one meant to lead her to it.

The next morning the bells rang across Azure Spire Castle. Rainy knew the sound. A rider had reached the gates. She had spent the night planning her ride into the passes to find Rowan. Now she pulled on her hide boots and ran. Her lynx bolted ahead through the corridors. If the rider brought news of Rowan, she needed it before she left. She reached the courtyard and stopped. Snow still lay thick on the stones. At the gate stood a huge white bear, its blue saddle bright against the frost. A young man swung down from its back. His black fur cloak hung heavy with ice. His dark hair was stiff with cold, and a cut crossed his cheek. But his pale green eyes found her at once. "You must be the princess I was sent to find," he said. His voice cracked from the cold. "I am Rowan." Rainy's heart jumped. This was the guide who had ridden into the ice alone, the man she had meant to save. He stood before her instead, alive. "They said you were lost," she said. "A herder saw you go into the passes. No one saw you come out." Rowan gave a tired laugh. "The storm turned me back. A drift buried the trail. I sheltered two days in a hunter's cave, then rode down when the wind broke." He set a hand on the bear's shoulder. The great animal snorted. "I should have waited for you. I am sorry. I thought I could scout ahead and save us both time." Her lynx crept forward, ears twitching. The bear lowered its huge head. The two animals touched noses. The lynx did not hiss. It sat, calm, at the bear's feet. Rainy let out the breath she had held. "You are cold and you must be starved," she said. She stepped close and looked at the cut on his cheek. "Come inside. Warm yourself. Eat." "There is no time," Rowan said. He shook his head, then winced. "I promised to guide you and I will do that.” "You are of no use cold and hungry" Rainy said. "Then I will eat and warm up for you." He nodded at Rainy, He looked at the sky, gray and low. "It will give my bear time to rest. We ride at first light tomorrow. Together this time." Rainy nodded. The fear that had gripped her all night let go. Rowan was found. Her guide stood in the courtyard, real and breathing. Tomorrow they would ride the passes as one. She led him toward the warm hall, the bear and the lynx pacing side by side behind them. The journey north was no longer hers alone.

Rowan warmed by the fire while his bear slept in the stables. Rainy waited until his color returned.. He looked stronger now, ready to talk. "We ride at first light," she said. "But the night is long. Let me show you my home before we leave it." Rowan rose and followed her into the halls. Rainy led him through the pale stone corridors. Blue-green light fell from the domes above. She pointed to portraits of kings and queens, their faces stern in old paint. Her lynx padded ahead, tufted ears turning at each sound. "My grandfather hunted with a sabre-tooth," she said. "The same beast waits for me now, to carry me north." Rowan slowed at a tall window that showed the frozen peaks. "Those passes nearly killed me," he said. "I know them. I will get you through." They came to a fountain in an inner hall. Water rose from its center and fell in a thin sheen. Rainy held out her hand. The water lifted at her call. It curled into a ribbon and spun above her palm. Rowan stepped back, his pale green eyes wide. "So it is true," he said. "The stories of the water princess." Rainy let the ribbon drop. "I do not know why I can do it," she said. "That is why I ride north. To learn who I am." Bells called them to the great hall. King Anthony and Queen Della stood at the high table. Her father's silver crown caught the firelight. Her mother's sky-blue gown swept the floor. "Sit," King Anthony said. "Eat well. You leave at dawn, and the mountains give no comfort." Servants carried in the feast, potatoes and corn and bright fruit, and fresh deer from the morning hunt. Rowan ate like a man half starved. He praised the deer between bites. The Queen smiled while they ate. King Anthony cleared his throat “I hope your father is well, you’ve grown into a fine man Rowan.” Then King Anthony set down his cup. His face turned grave. "There is a thing you must know before you go," he said. He looked at Queen Della. She nodded. "The tribe you seek moved higher this winter," the king went on. "A rider came today with word. Storms drove them past the High Crags last year. The path we planned no longer leads to them." Rainy's fork stilled. "Then how do I find them?" she asked. Rowan set down his knife. His grin was gone. "Past the High Crags there is only the ice shelf," he said. "No trail. No shelter. I have never crossed it." The king met Rainy's eyes across the feast. "You wanted the truth of yourself," he said. "It lies farther and harder than we thought." Rainy looked at the frozen peaks through the window. The warm hall could not reach them now. Rowan took Rainy’s hand “We will get through it together I swear it to you.” Rainy smiled

Dawn came gray and cold. Rainy dressed in her sky-blue outfit and pulled on her pale boots. When she opened her door, Rowan waited in the hall. He carried a heavy pack. She saw food wrapped in cloth, a box of matches, and folded blankets stacked at the top. "For the ice shelf," he said. "We take what keeps us alive." Her lynx pressed against her leg, ears turning toward the cold light. "We should go before the sun climbs," Rowan said. He shifted the pack on his shoulder. His pale green eyes were steady now, none of the sickness left from the passes. Rainy nodded. But her chest tightened. She looked down the hall toward the great stairs. "Wait," she said. "There is one thing I have to do first." She ran. Her boots struck the pale stone floor. Rowan followed with the lynx, both slower, letting her go ahead. She burst into the throne room. Her parents were not on the high seats. They stood among villagers, King Anthony steadying an old man's basket, Queen Della bent over a child with a torn cloak. They were helping, hands busy with small daily work. Rainy did not slow. She crossed the room and threw her arms around them both. The basket dropped. Her mother's arms closed around her at once. Rainy cleared her throat against the tightness there. "Sorry," she said. "I just could not leave without giving you a hug." King Anthony looked at the villagers and the guards near the doors. "Leave us," he said, his voice low. They filed out. The great room emptied until only family remained. Queen Della held Rainy close and did not let go. Her curls brushed Rainy's white hair. "You do not need to be sorry," the queen said. "Not for this." Rowan stood in the doorway, the pack still on his back. The lynx sat beside him, tail curled over its paws. He watched the three of them without a word. King Anthony rested a hand on Rainy's shoulder. "The ice shelf is hard," he said. "Harder than the passes. But you carry more strength than you know. Come back to us and tell us who you are." Rainy pulled back and looked at their faces. She fixed them in her mind, the scruffy beard, the soft curls, the crown and the tiara. "I will," she said. She kissed her mother's cheek. She gripped her father's hand once, hard. Then she turned. Rowan held out the second strap of the pack. She took her share of the weight onto her own shoulder. The lynx rose and stretched. "Now," Rainy said. "Before I lose my nerve." They walked out of the warm hall together.

Two days on the road had worn Rainy thin. She rode her grandfather's tiger up the northern slope, its white reins tight in her hands. Rowan rode ahead on his polar bear, the blue saddle dusted with snow. Her lynx padded between the two mounts. Rainy pulled her sky-blue coat tighter. She hated winter. It was always cold, always miserable, and now the sky ahead looked wrong. Rowan reined the bear to a stop. He pointed north with one gloved hand. "See that?" A dark wall of cloud climbed over the passes. It moved fast, swallowing the peaks one by one. "Storm," he said. "A bad one. If it catches us out here, we freeze." Rainy's chest tightened. There was no cave, no hut, nothing but open rock and wind. "How long?" she asked. "Less than an hour." Rowan's pale green eyes searched the slope. "We can't outrun it. We can't reach the shelf before it breaks." He looked at her, steady but grim. "I don't have an answer for this one, Rainy." She stared at the churning cloud. Snow and wind were only water, moving. She had bent water her whole life. But a storm this size could break her. "Get the mounts close," Rainy said. "All of us together. Now." Rowan did not argue. He swung the bear around beside the tiger. The lynx pressed against the tiger's leg. Rainy slid from the saddle and planted her boots in the snow. The first gust hit her face like a slap. She raised both hands. She reached out with her mind toward the wind, toward the ice riding inside it. The storm fought her. It shoved and clawed, wild and huge. Rainy pushed back. She did not try to stop it. She only bent it, curving the wind up and over their heads like water splitting around a stone. Snow roared past on every side. Inside her small circle, the air went still. The tiger stood firm. The bear lowered its head. Rowan gripped his reins and watched her, silent. Rainy's arms shook. Her knees buckled. Sweat froze on her brow. She held the bend as long as she could, counting her breaths, until the worst of the storm passed over and thinned to gray flurries. Then she let go. She dropped to her knees in the snow. Rowan was off the bear at once, catching her arm before she fell farther. "I'm all right," she gasped, though her sight swam. He steadied her, his face close. "You bent a storm," he said quietly. "I saw it. That was amazing." He looked north, where the clouds broke apart over the ice shelf. "But you can barely stand. And the shelf is still weeks ahead, please let me take you to my castle my family will heal you and keep you safe." Rainy nodded, breathing hard. She had saved them. She had also spent nearly everything she had, and the hardest crossing had not yet begun. She needed to rest. Rowan lifted her onto her Sabertooth Tiger. “Then we ride another night and we will be there, hold on okay, stay strong.” His voice broke.

The night ride nearly broke them all. Rainy slumped against the tiger's neck, her hands numb on the white reins. The lynx dragged its paws through the snow. Ahead, Rowan's polar bear plodded slow, its head low, its blue saddle crusted with ice. No one had spoken in hours. Rainy fought to keep her eyes open. Every muscle ached from bending the storm, and the cold sat deep in her bones. Then Rowan reined the bear to a stop. He turned in the saddle. "Rainy." His voice cracked, but this time it lifted. "Look." She raised her head. Below them, in a wide white valley, a castle rose from the snow. Ivory stone climbed into slate-blue roofs. Slim turrets circled a great central spire. Warm gold light glowed in a hundred windows. After nights of dark rock and killing wind, the sight looked unreal. "Home," Rowan said. He wiped his face with his glove. "We made it. My family is there. They'll warm you, feed you, heal you." Rainy tried to smile. Her lips were too cold to move much. "Can the animals make it down?" "They have to." Rowan swung the bear around beside her tiger. He reached over and steadied her in the saddle, his hand firm on her arm. "Just hold on. One more stretch. I won't let you fall." The path down was steep and icy. The tiger slid, caught itself, and pushed on. The bear went ahead, breaking a trail through the deep snow. The lynx followed close in the bear's wide tracks. Rainy gripped the reins and kept her eyes on the warm windows. Each step brought them lower. Each step brought the castle nearer. When they reached the gate, torches burned on both sides. Servants ran out into the cold. Hands took the tiger's reins. Hands reached up for Rainy. She let herself slide down into their arms. Her legs would not hold her. Rowan dropped from the bear and caught her before she sank. "I've got her," he said to the servants carry Rainy in his hands. "Get blankets. Wake the healers. Now." Inside, the air was warm at last. A fire roared in a great hearth. They lowered Rainy onto a bench near the flames. Someone wrapped her in fur. The heat stung her frozen hands, then soothed them. Slowly, the shaking eased. Rowan knelt beside her. "You're safe," he said. "You made it here alive. That was the hard part." Rainy pulled the fur close and breathed the warm air. She had crossed the storm. She had reached his home. But the ice shelf still waited beyond these walls, and she had spent nearly all her strength to get this far. She would need every bit of it back. "How long can I rest?" she asked. Rowan's face went still. He glanced toward the dark windows. "That," he said slowly, "depends on what my father tells us at first light."

Rainy woke in a soft bed. Fur blankets covered her. Firelight warmed the stone walls. For a moment she forgot where she was. Then she saw the small girl standing beside the bed, watching her. Rainy pushed herself up and held the blanket close. The girl had dark hair in a braid. She wore a pale purple dress with puffy sleeves. A tiny tiara sat crooked on her head. She could not have been more than four. She did not run or call for anyone. She only tilted her head and stared. "You're really pretty," the girl said softly. Then she laughed, quick and bright. "I also love your cat." Rainy followed the girl's gaze. Her white lynx lay curled at the foot of the bed. Its tufted ears flicked. It had let the child come close. Rainy let out a laugh of her own. The sound surprised her. She had not laughed in days. "He's a lynx, not a cat," Rainy said. "But he likes you. He doesn't like everyone." The girl beamed. She reached out and touched the lynx's thick fur. The animal only blinked. "I'm Rosalee," she said. "Rowan is my big brother. He carried you in. I saw from the stairs." Rainy's chest eased. So this was Rowan's little sister. The child had no fear of her white hair or her strange beast. She had only curiosity and a warm, open smile. "I'm Rainy," she said. "Your brother is very brave. He helped me through a storm." Rosalee climbed onto the edge of the bed without asking. She settled close and looked up. "Are you a real princess?" she asked. "You have white hair. Princesses in my books have gold hair." "I'm a real princess," Rainy said. "My hair has always been white. Even when I was born." She paused. The old question stirred in her. "I'm going north to learn why." "North is far," Rosalee said. She frowned like the matter was serious. "Mama says the ice past the mountains eats travelers. She won't let Rowan go there." Rainy went still. The ice shelf. That was the path she and Rowan planned to cross. "Your mama said that?" Rosalee nodded. She hugged the lynx's neck. "She's cross about it. She and Papa are talking loud in the big hall. About you and Rowan." Just then the door opened. A servant stepped in and bowed. "Princess Rainy. You are awake. The king and queen wish to see you at once." Rainy set the blanket aside. Her legs held now. Her strength had returned enough to stand. She looked at the small girl, then at the door. "Will you take me to them?" she asked Rosalee. The child slid off the bed and reached up. Her small hand closed around Rainy's fingers. "Come on," she said.

Rosalee led Rainy down a wide stair and through tall doors. The great hall opened before them. Firelight caught the high stone walls. At the far end stood the king and queen, and their voices had stopped the moment the doors swung wide. Rainy felt the silence press on her. She was the reason they had been shouting. King Ramsey stood near the hearth. His dark curls fell around a heavy crown, and his fur cloak swept the floor. He looked at Rainy the way a man studies a storm on the horizon. Queen Rochelle sat in her chair, her dark hair pinned high, her pale blue gown pooled at her feet. Her green eyes were red at the edges. She had been crying, or close to it. "So this is the water princess," the king said. "You mean to take my son across the ice shelf." "I do," Rainy said. "But I won't force him. I came to ask, not to steal him." The queen rose. "No one crosses that ice and comes back whole. It took travelers before. It will take Rowan." Her voice shook. "I have one son. I will not bury him for your journey." Rainy understood then. This was a mother afraid, not a wall to break through. She had bent storms. She could not bend this. She stepped forward and knelt near the queen's chair. "I know what it is to be a mother's whole heart," Rainy said. "My mother let me go and it broke her. She let me go because staying would have broken me worse." She looked up. "I don't want Rowan to die. I want to learn who I am. But I would rather find the tribe alone than take your son against your will." Rosalee tugged the queen's sleeve. "Mama, Rainy made a storm go around us. Rowan told me. She kept everyone safe." The queen's hand found the child's braid. She looked at Rainy for a long moment. Then Rowan spoke from the doorway behind them. "I already chose, Mother," he said. He crossed the hall and stood at Rainy's side. "I've studied that ice my whole life. If anyone can cross it, we can. Together." The queen closed her eyes. When she opened them, the fear was still there, but something firmer sat beside it. "Then I cannot stop you," she said. "But you go with my blessing, not my silence. Come home to me." King Ramsey set a hand on his wife's shoulder. "You leave in two days time," he told them. "I'll see you both supplied before then and fed well." Rainy stood. The rift had not broken the family. It had bent, like water around stone. But the ice shelf waited now with a mother's blessing tied to it, and every step across it would carry the weight of a promise to return.