Icy wind brushed against Eydis’s face, its sharp, biting edge carried the faint, crisp scent of distant snowfields and greywacke. At last she recognised it for what it was, the alpine wind that had crossed the Southern Alps.

  Damp snow began to fall. It was not the pristine, crystallised snowflakes Huka had shaped, but half-melted into rain, dusting the grey dawn over Lake Wakatipu like wet sugar. If it weren’t for the snow, the sky would have looked almost like home.

  Home.

  A few flakes caught on her lashes, and she let them stay, as though holding something ephemeral could quiet the unease within. Beautiful, in a way, and laughable. After all the blood she’d spilled for it back in Mythshollow, just for this world to hand it over like an afterthought.

  What had she even been fighting for, anyway? A minuscule change in the sky. A sliver of freedom to be more than a Sin bearer. Or, as the former queen once said, hubris dressed itself up as ambition.

  And was any of it worth losing Gidion? Almost losing them?

  Eydis brushed the droplet from her eye and glanced toward Melissa’s suite. Her gaze lingered on the soft lighting, but her mind drifted back to the past, to Archmage Gidion Swan and to the former Queen of Shadow’s frost-bitten smile.

  “How adorably na?ve of you to think that true revolution comes without sacrifice, child,” the Queen had mocked, pushing her to seal Greed and, inevitably, kill him.

  Inevitable. How she loathed that word.

  She’d dragged him into a girl’s fanciful dream, hadn’t she? Oblivious to his having a daughter, one for whom he would sacrifice his soul, much as Lionel traded his dreams to protect Natalia.

  At least, that was how she pieced this chain of lies and truths of Natalia’s past together. The deceit was undeniable, but it came from an eighteen-year-old boy’s desire to protect his sister.

  Family bonds remained a puzzle to her. Even more puzzling was why a contract with Greed would save Gidion’s daughter. He was an Archmage, and she would have helped if he had asked. At eighteen, she had already commanded most of the Seven—

  The Seven Primal Sins.

  She furrowed her brows. Could it be that he had wanted her to hold the duality of Greed? The Eight. The ouroboros. She recalled the surprised look he had given her when—no. Absurd.

  She should forget the past. Let Gidion go. Allow the memory of him to rest, bury him, and, with him, her irreparable mistakes. Stop fabricating some grand design to justify his actions.

  It was no more than wishful thinking.

  Astra’s soft sigh was enough to pull Eydis out of her conundrum.

  “There are no vacancies,” she said, scrolling through the hotel apps with barely hidden impatience. “Queenstown’s first snow has brought a crowd. At this hour, we won’t find anything else.”

  Eydis let out a clouded breath and reached for Astra’s hand. It was ice-cold. “Then you should stay here. Keep watch in case more of Ares’s men arrive.”

  She hoped Astra would agree. Naturally, she did not.

  Astra slipped her phone into her royal blue jacket, her expression hard to read. Those sharp crimson eyes saw right through her. “What about you?”

  “I have an errand.”

  “Which is?”

  “Something I can handle on my own.” Eydis turned toward the dark lake. “Just focus on keeping our acquaintances safe, Astra.”

  “Acquaintances?”

  Eydis often savoured Astra’s acuity. Today, it grated on her. Acting as if she didn’t understand what Astra really meant, she pulled her arm free and mustered a smile. “Melissa. Natalia. I’ll be back soon.”

  Seeing Astra’s expression slowly shift into worry, Eydis averted her gaze. She took three steps before Astra’s voice stopped her.

  “You’re going to Aoraki. Alone.”

  How does she always know?

  “Why would I? For skiing?” Eydis said airily. “I wouldn’t go that far just for fun.”

  “You’re planning to break into their base. Without me.” Astra’s voice grew serious, brushing off Eydis’s half-hearted deflection. “We’ve already gone over your recklessness.”

  “But you have to be curious about what they’re planning, Astra. Manipulating the weather, hiding secret labs, deploying spotters, choosing this small country for both discretion and reach… every detail intentional.”

  “So tell me,” Eydis added with a smile that didn’t touch her eyes, “what do you think?”

  Astra took a graceful step forward and stood at her side. “I think you’re giving me another half-truth.”

  The smile on Eydis’s face didn’t waver. “And what is the other half?”

  “That you are doing this to protect our friends,” Astra stressed the word, subtly probing at Eydis’s earlier dismissiveness.

  “You hold me in far too high regard, Astra.”

  “You hold yourself in far too low, Eydis. I’m coming with you.”

  “No, you are not,” Eydis snapped. For the first time since they had been together, she raised her voice at Astra. “Stay here. Our… they need you more.”

  “We both know the lengths Ares’s operatives have taken to keep their base secret. You know the dangers involved, and you still intend to keep me away.”

  Eydis’s jaw tightened. “And what good would following me do? I can manage. Trust me.”

  “Trust?” Astra cupped Eydis’s cheek. “I trust you, Eydis.”

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  Their eyes finally met. The tenderness surprised Eydis, and suddenly the biting cold of the alpine wind seemed to lift from her lungs. She let out an involuntary sigh, her breath fogging between them.

  The crimson eyes that had been sharp and assessing were now filled with understanding. “But you need to trust me too.” Astra softened her tone.

  “What has this to do with me not trusting you?” Eydis’s voice had lost most of its earlier edge.

  “Because I know you’re blaming yourself for Natalia’s incident. You couldn’t even look at her, and acted indifferent. But I know...” The hand on Eydis’s cheek felt warm, comfortingly so. “I know you’re pretending it didn’t affect you.”

  Perhaps it was the scent, the closeness, or simply that it was Astra, Eydis admitted, “I had been doing so well on my own that I overlooked how others could be… adversely impacted by my decisions.”

  Eydis knew of the roundabout way she had skirted the word friends, but continued, “Had I listened to you and not provoked the operatives, had I not been so arrogant, none of this would have happened. Any of it.”

  Astra frowned in disbelief. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “It was. And Natalia wouldn’t have been taken in the first place if I…”

  “We didn’t know what we were up against, and if anyone bears blame, it’s me,” Astra murmured.

  Eydis looked at her, incredulous. “How could it possibly be your fault?”

  “If I hadn’t used my power at the Remarkables, we would have remained insolent tourists in their eyes,” Astra reasoned. “You said it yourself. There was a woman, Ngū, in Taika’s memory who could suppress Gifts. She was watching us. I exposed us.”

  “I…” For the first time, Eydis was at a loss for words. “You could not have known.”

  “Exactly. Neither could you. You know I stood by you the whole time, right? If you insist on pointing fingers, I’m taking at least half,” Astra replied sincerely.

  “I… it’s not…” Eydis faltered. “You’re unfair.”

  Soft lips against hers cut short the protest. All at once, Eydis stopped thinking about the alpine, stopped replaying her endless litany of mistakes, and stopped asking what-ifs.

  Everything else faded to a whiteout at the gentlest touch, the warmth flowing through her like the first sip of coffee on a frostbitten dawn, melting the cold from places she hadn’t known were frozen.

  Soft cherry kisses threaded with dark timber felt like lighting a hearth in a cosy farmhouse after an unrelenting blizzard.

  It felt like returning home.

  Astra drew back slowly, her eyes shimmering with emotion. Her thumb grazed Eydis’s lips, parting them slightly. “Have you carried this guilt alone all this time, all while hiding behind a nonchalant mask?”

  Eydis’s lashes fluttered beneath the touch of a snowflake. “I should have seen it coming. Letting anyone in… it only ends in harm.”

  Astra’s voice was gentle. “You’re not responsible for my decisions. I chose to agree with you. I let my guard down. I couldn’t stop Taika in time either. The choices I made were mine.”

  The words lodged deep in Eydis’s mind and, like a tide, washed over Gidion’s words from years past.

  “Your Highness, the path you’ve chosen isn’t easy. And it isn’t something you can walk alone.”

  “Then you agree to help me?” a young Princess Eydis had asked.

  Gidion had smiled warmly, clear brown eyes holding no deception. “No. I’m choosing to claim this mad vision as mine. Consider it my selfish desire to see it through to the end.”

  Ah…

  Snow on Eydis’s lashes melted, tracing a path down her cheek. Astra’s eyes followed the tear. She tilted her head and pressed a kiss to its salty trail, her lips soft against Eydis’s jaw.

  Eydis swallowed hard and let her hands rest on Astra’s waist beneath her jacket. Her bare skin was cold, and yet warm.

  Astra murmured against her skin. “And we both know there’s only one boundary breaker left standing here. Lionel can handle a few Gifted agents if they try anything. Especially since he’s a hidden boundary breaker himself. We’re better off going together.”

  Eydis couldn’t help but marvel at Astra’s deduction, having suspected as much herself. Her connection with Envy had flickered earlier, much like when she had tried to observe Taika. Lionel must have found a way to break the boundary without Ares’s influence.

  Yet, she remained stubborn. “It isn’t about that.”

  Astra smiled, unguarded and soft. “Then… were you worried? About me?”

  “You have your secrets, and your life to protect,” Eydis said quietly, letting the unspoken word “your partner” fade from her tongue. “I don’t wish to draw you into this. I haven’t gone deep enough into Taika’s mind to learn what they’re hiding. And I don’t think there were only three of them. Orion seemed like the leader. She’ll be here soon.”

  “You could have stayed longer in his mindscape,” Astra said.

  And she was not wrong. Eydis could have led Taika through a few more dreamloops to crack his concealed thoughts. But…

  Astra’s warm hand kept her there, and Eydis gave in, choosing to be honest. “The Raven said you were bleeding.”

  Astra’s long lashes fluttered. She released a soft sigh and leaned in to kiss the corner of Eydis’s lips. “You were worried about me.”

  You’re my priority, Eydis thought to herself, the words hard to voice.

  Astra’s smile was disarmingly gentle, as though reading her mind.

  “I’m not fragile, I can stand on my own. I just want you to see me as someone you can rely on.” She rested her forehead against Eydis’s. “Let me be that for you.”

  “I…” Eydis’s heart quickened again as she lowered her lashes. The words seemed familiar, like a long-forgotten dream. But she didn’t delve too deeply into it and surrendered to the coaxing warmth of Astra’s presence. “It’s not easy.”

  Astra’s hand on her waist guided her closer until there was no space left between them.

  “Do you trust me, Eydis?”

  Yes.

  Eydis took a deep breath, tilted Astra’s chin up, and kissed her hard, speaking the words that hadn’t yet been said. All she knew was she wanted Astra, only Astra, here, now, for as long as she could hold her.

  For eter—

  That very thought seared her, breaking the kiss with a sharp inhale.

  Eydis took a step back, composed herself, and held out a hand. “Your Holiness, you’re remarkably persuasive when you set your mind to it.”

  Astra took it firmly, her thumb tracing Eydis’s knuckles, and let out a husky laugh. “You really won’t say it, will you? Your Incorrigible Majesty.”

  Oh? Eydis’s mind wandered back to earlier hours, to when Astra had made her confess exactly what she wanted. Her cheeks warmed anew.

  Who was really incorrigible? Eydis let a small smile curve her lips. “A question.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “How would you feel about stealing a helicopter? Just like last time,” Eydis asked, a mischievous spark in her eyes.

  It was a terrible decision.

  Astra pecked Eydis’s smug grin and teased her in a low voice. “I know bad girls are your weakness.”

  Eydis held composure, though heat warmed her ears. Of course Astra noticed. Of course she laughed, melodious, airy, and infuriatingly attractive, while playing with the shell of Eydis’s ear.

  “Just one,” Eydis muttered under her breath.

  Astra’s gaze smouldered.

  Clearing her throat, Eydis tried to steer the conversation. “Time to focus on the plan?”

  Astra nodded, but the fire in her eyes hadn’t cooled.

  “It’s quite simple,” Eydis said. “Worst case: they flee and relocate, leaving us alone for now. Then you can call your mysterious partner and see if he can track any global anomalies tied to their new base.”

  When they reached their rental, Astra moved behind the electric sedan and unplugged the charging cord. “And best case?”

  Eydis leaned in and whispered near Astra’s ear, her hot breath earning a shiver. “You fight, I watch, you dominate.”

  Astra’s fingers stalled at the handle, then, after a few seconds, she opened the door and took the driver’s seat. She tilted her head with a contented smirk, though the tips of her ears turned a treacherous red.

  “Are you coming to watch me or not?”

  Eydis huffed a laugh. She glanced up at the brightening sky, breathed in the clean alpine air, and let the snow melt on her cheeks.

  It felt like her first snow, and she wanted it to be the first memory she kept of it.

  Perhaps she was being melodramatic. Perhaps she had spent so long fighting that she had forgotten some gifts did not require blood to earn them. This effortless weather, this change she had not asked for but was learning to accept, and… Eydis turned back to Astra.

  This person willing to stand beside her.

  Astra waited patiently, leaning against the open car window, watching her with open affection. Silver hair spilled softly around her face, framing scarlet eyes that were usually sharp, usually untouchable, but now quiet and tender as snowfall.

  A precious gift, one that thawed the frozen terrain of her mind, one that did not require blood but something far more daunting to treasure.

  Courage.

  And so Eydis would take it and stop wondering whether she deserved it. Selfishly, greedily, she would fold it and keep it where her heart beat strongest.

  “Absolutely,” she mouthed, her voice too tender to risk the air, lest it shatter the moment like fragile flakes.