Sir Alex. Standing at the front of the deck, wind whipping his hair, coat soaked with sea spray, alive, breathing, safe.
Something ugly twisted in fake Milabuella's gut.
Not love. Not hate. Possession. She clenched her jaw.
"Prepare my attendants," she ordered coldly.
"Ready my knights. We're going to greet the ship."
"Yes, Your Highness!"
As servants rushed out, she grabbed her cloak and mask of royalty, placing it over her heart like armor.
She would go to that ship. She would smile. She would bow.
And she would not let anyone—not Lady Seraphine, not Sir Alex, not even the gods—wreck ten years of her mission. She swept toward the door, lips curling into the perfect princess smile.
"…So. You survived," she whispered toward the distant ship.
"But I won't let you ruin everything." She stepped onto the balcony, watched the Ice People laugh and wave, saw Sir Alex's eyes searching the horizon—
And she whispered: "Let the game begin."
*****
SERAPHINE POV
I was wet.
