“I have no patience for thieves,” I snapped, readying my magic.

“Let’s not be so hasty,” she said. A small tear appeared, and through it, I could see Cécile underwater, trying desperately to make her way to the surface. But a sheet of ice blocked her path. My blood ran cold. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Winter had told Josette that she’d only scare her sister, that she wouldn’t put her in real danger.

She wouldn’t put… I swore silently, desperately, and the tear closed.

She clucked softly. “Your situation has grown dire indeed. I can help with that.”

I spat at her feet, trying to keep my thoughts straight with Cécile fading by the second. I had not planned for this, but I could not stop now. Could not give up now. I squeezed the seeds tightly, keeping them at the ready.

Winter sighed, the misty folds of her gown drifting and flowing. “Cécile went into Trollus in search of information on the whereabouts of your enemy, he who calls himself the Duke d’Angoulême. I’m afraid she ran afoul of your father.” Her eyes met mine. “I can help her. I can help you.”

“In exchange for what?” She’d known when she’d spoken to Joss that Cécile was walking into trouble.

“An alliance. I will save Cécile and do all I can to help you see your enemies dead. In exchange, you will give your word to protect my court from yours.”

Given we were bound to this world, and given she had no intention of allowing her kind to linger here for fear of losing them to the iron, I failed to see how we were a threat to the Winter fey. But that wasn’t important in this precise moment. All that mattered was that she believed we were.

I hesitated, then said, “No. On my word, I’ll never ally with you or your court. Nor will I harm a living soul for your benefit.”

The air shivered as my promise bound me, and her pupils elongated as fury fractured her glamour. She could use my debt to order me to do it anyway, but the combination would drive me mad in moments. I was gambling that her plan didn’t include me losing my mind.

“You will regret that choice, mortal.”

I stared her down, praying that Cécile wouldn’t pay the price of me forcing the fairy queen’s hand.

“I call your debt due, mortal prince. Bequeath me your power,” she said. “I would possess the greatest weapon in this world and the next.”