The cheers had not fully faded when the king rose from his throne again.
The movement alone silenced the hall.
Armor stilled.
Fabric rustled.
Then nothing.
"My people," the king said, his voice steady and commanding, "as you know, our Crown Prince will march at dawn to lead our forces."
A murmur of pride rolled through the chamber.
"But war does not halt the needs of a kingdom."
He clasped his hands behind his back.
"While my son fights on the battlefield, the Crown Princess will attend court with me in his stead."
My breath caught.
"If you cannot meet with me, you will meet with her. She will hear your petitions. She will act with my authority. She will aid you."
Silence followed.
Then—
Every eye turned to me.
Not warm.
Not welcoming.
Sharp.
Evaluating.
Cold.
I knew that look.
I had seen it my entire life.
Whispers broke out almost immediately.
"The Ice Witch…"
"Isn't she the one—"
"The fiend…"
"They say she froze a man's face solid…"
