Morning came too soon.
Princess Caroline awoke to the golden glow of sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains of her chamber. The warmth of the Summerlands was unfamiliar, too different from the crisp, chilled mornings of her homeland. But she did not linger in bed.
She would not allow herself to.
As the maidservants dressed her in a flowing gown of pale lavender, she kept her expression serene, though her mind was far from it. She would meet the Summer Court today. She would see the King again.
And tonight, she would dine with him.
Her fingers curled slightly as she recalled his words from the previous evening. A request. For now.
She hated how that had made her feel.
As she stepped out into the corridor, she decided she would not spend the morning tangled in courtly games. Not yet. She needed to breathe. To think.
And so, she found herself drawn toward the gardens.
The air was thick with the scent of citrus and jasmine.
Caroline had never seen anything like it. The gardens of the Summer Palace were a realm of their own—wild yet cultivated, vibrant yet mysterious. Flowers she did not recognize bloomed in fiery colors, their petals curling toward the sun. Vines stretched lazily over stone pathways, while golden fruit hung heavily from twisted branches.
It was like stepping into a dream.
A soft breeze stirred the leaves, carrying with it the distant murmur of fountains and birdsong. The Winter Court had gardens, but they were precise, controlled—designed for symmetry rather than wonder.
Here, the garden was alive. Magic hummed in the air, subtle but ever-present.
She wandered deeper, her fingers grazing the leaves of an unfamiliar tree. The warmth of the bark pulsed against her fingertips—as if it had a heartbeat.
She inhaled sharply and took a step back.
Magic.
Of course, the Summer Court would weave its enchantments into the very earth.
"You're not supposed to be here."
The voice was soft, hesitant.
Caroline turned, finding a young maidservant kneeling near a bed of delicate white blossoms, a woven basket at her side. The girl was no older than sixteen, her auburn-colored hair pulled into a simple braid.
Caroline lifted a brow. "I was not aware these gardens were forbidden."
The maid's eyes widened. "Oh! No, Your Highness. Not forbidden, just…" She hesitated. "Few from the Winter Court come here. It is said the land does not welcome them."
Caroline glanced down at the earth beneath her feet, then back at the girl. "Yet here I stand."
The maid gave a shy smile. "Perhaps the land has not decided what to make of you yet."
Caroline considered that. "And you? What do you make of me?"
The girl lowered her gaze, as if fearing she had spoken too freely. "I only meant—"
"I am not offended," Caroline assured her. "What is your name?"
"Aelis, Your Highness."
"Aelis," Caroline repeated. "And what are you doing?"
The maid hesitated before gesturing to the flowers beside her. "Harvesting star petals for the healers. They are rare, but their nectar soothes fevers and mends wounds."
Caroline knelt, ignoring the way Aelis's eyes widened at the sight of a princess lowering herself to the ground. She reached out, brushing her fingertips over one of the white blossoms. It was cool to the touch, its petals glistening in the sunlight.
"They are beautiful," she murmured.
Aelis nodded. "They only bloom under the watchful eye of the sun."
Caroline let out a quiet hum. Perhaps she, too, would have to learn to bloom beneath this foreign sun.
Aelis shifted, her hands twisting in her skirts. "Forgive me, Your Highness, but… may I ask something?"
Caroline glanced at her. "You may."
The girl hesitated. "Is it true what they say? That Winter nobles cannot feel warmth?"
A flicker of surprise ran through Caroline before she schooled her features.
It was a common belief, she supposed. That those of the Winter Court were cold-hearted, unfeeling—made of ice, even beneath their skin.
She exhaled, considering her answer carefully. "I feel warmth, Aelis. Just as I feel the cold. But Winter teaches us restraint. To control our emotions, rather than be ruled by them."
Aelis nodded, though she did not seem fully convinced.
Caroline studied the girl, then reached out, taking one of her hands gently in her own.
Aelis gasped at the contact.
"Do I feel cold to you?" Caroline asked softly.
The maid hesitated, then slowly shook her head.
Caroline released her hand, offering the girl a small, rare smile. "Then do not believe everything you hear."
Aelis's cheeks flushed, and she ducked her head. "Thank you, Your Highness."
A rustling sound behind them made them both turn.
Two noblewomen stood at the garden's entrance, their silk gowns shimmering under the morning sun. Their expressions were unreadable—but their interest was clear.
Caroline did not tense. Did not let her surprise show.
She had been seen.
They would whisper of this moment in the halls. A Winter Princess, kneeling among the Summer servants.
But let them whisper.
Caroline rose with grace, inclining her head toward Aelis before stepping past the watching nobles, her back straight, her expression unbothered.
Let them think she was weak.
Let them think she did not know the game.
But she would show them, soon enough.
And tonight, she would dine with the King.