The rise of a Frozen Star

[POV Liselotte]

The gallop of our horses against the cobblestones at the capital gates echoed like hammer blows in an empty forge. Barely a day had passed since we left the northern camp, but for Leah and me, that time had stretched into an agony of uncertainty. The image of King William’s empty chair—that campaign throne surrounded by maps and silence—remained etched into my mind like a stain that could not be erased.

We entered the royal palace through a side gate, avoiding the curious gazes of the nobility still lingering in the corridors after the purge of the Valerius. Elliot was waiting for us in the private map room, the same place where we had planned the forest operation. He looked more composed now, his armor clean and his expression calm, though his eyes studied our every movement with clinical sharpness.

“You’ve returned quickly,” Elliot said, setting down a quill and crossing his arms. “I assume the supplies reached their destination. How is the front?”

Leah stepped forward, removing her travel cloak with a sharp motion. Her face was pale, and the anxiety she had contained throughout the journey finally broke through her words.

“Elliot, the front is a mess of uncertainty,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “We reached the camp, and Father wasn’t there. General Marcus told us he had departed for the Valley of Laments after receiving an encrypted message. He was supposed to return by dawn, but when we left, he was already ten hours overdue. No one knows where he is, Elliot. The camp is holding together by sheer inertia.”

I remained to the side, watching Elliot’s reaction. I expected to see a crack in his composure—a flash of panic like Leah’s—but the prince remained unmoved. His brows barely lifted, and instead of darkening, his expression seemed to relax in a way that unsettled me.

“Calm down, Leah. Breathe,” Elliot said, walking toward her and placing his hands on her shoulders with brotherly firmness. “I know Father’s absence at a moment like this can feel like the end of the world, but you must understand—William is not just a general. He is the axis upon which the diplomacy of this war turns.”

“But the Valley of Laments is unstable territory!” Leah shot back, pulling away from him. “Marcus was terrified, Elliot. Don’t tell me this is nothing.”

Elliot let out a long sigh and turned toward his desk, picking up a sealed envelope we hadn’t noticed before. The wax seal was white, bearing the image of a scale and a sword—the symbol of the Holy Inquisition of the Church.

“Just before you arrived at the city gates, this trusted courier delivered it,” Elliot explained, extending the letter toward us. “Leah, Lotte… my father is not missing in some demonic trap. The reason he diverted from the main camp was to attend an emergency meeting at the camp of the Order of Light—the Church’s elite force that has deployed to the eastern frontier.”

Leah took the letter and read it eagerly, her eyes scanning the elegant script.

“Coordination of joint attacks… purification protocols… security of the Heroes…” she murmured as she read.

“The Church is extremely meticulous about its procedures,” Elliot continued, turning his gaze toward me. “They demanded that the King himself ratify the new alliance terms before deploying their paladins to the northern front. The meeting likely dragged on due to negotiations over command of the Heroes of Terra. William did not go anywhere dangerous—he is surrounded by the most sacred guard on the continent. His delay is due to holy bureaucracy, not an ambush.”

I felt the tension leave Leah’s shoulders. Her breathing steadied, and color slowly returned to her cheeks. The relief was so tangible it could almost be touched. For her, her brother’s word and the Church’s seal were enough. The King was safe—negotiating with allies, not fighting for his life in some sulfurous fog.

“Thank the gods…” Leah whispered, placing the letter on the table. “I thought something terrible had happened to him… that I might be left alone again.”

“You will never be alone while I am here,” Elliot said with a warm smile—though I noticed his eyes did not fully share that expression. “Now, I want both of you to return to the academy. Resume your routines, rest, and make sure the Heroes continue their training. The purge of the Valerius is nearly complete, and I need normalcy to return to Whirikal before the great offensive begins.”

Leah nodded, visibly exhausted but with renewed spirit. She looked at me, and for the first time in days, I saw a spark of peace in her eyes.

“Come on, Lotte. I need to sleep in a bed that doesn’t smell like horse and fear.”

We left the council chamber and walked through the palace corridors toward the exit that led back to the academy. Chloé was waiting for us in the courtyard, sitting on the edge of a fountain, devouring a chicken leg she had likely “acquired” from the royal kitchens.

“Well?” Chloé asked, her mouth half full. “Is the Lion hunting, or did something eat him?”

“He’s with the Church, Chloé,” Leah replied with a faint smile. “Negotiating supplies and tactics. He’s safe.”

Chloé raised an eyebrow, glancing at me for a second before returning to her food.

“Well, the Church has decent food, I guess. If the King’s there, at least he won’t starve.”

We returned to our quarters at the academy. The building, which just nights ago had been the stage of a bloody battle in its depths, now seemed strangely peaceful. Students walked to their classes, professors lectured on ancient history, and the afternoon sun bathed the gardens where we had uncovered the Valerius laboratory.

Leah collapsed onto her bed the moment we entered the room. She fell asleep almost instantly, still wearing her armor—lost in the deep rest of someone who had finally let go of an unbearable burden.

I, however, could not rest.

I sat on the windowsill, looking north—toward where the clouds grew darker. I slipped a hand into my tunic and pulled out the photograph of the demonic family. The paper remained cold, defying the physical laws of this world. Then I remembered Elliot’s letter. I remembered the certainty in his voice—the absolute calm.

Something didn’t add up.

General Marcus had been genuinely terrified at the camp; a man of his experience wouldn’t break like that over a simple diplomatic delay. And William… the King William I knew despised the Church’s bureaucracy. He would never have left his army exposed and without supplies—because at that moment, the convoy hadn’t even arrived yet—just to discuss purification protocols.

I looked toward the castle, toward the tower where Elliot was still working.

“Did you lie to us, Elliot?” I wondered, feeling a knot of suspicion tighten in my throat. “Or is the Church playing a far more dangerous game than even you can control?”

Leah’s peace was my priority, so I said nothing. I let her enjoy her regained calm. But as night fell once more over Whirikal, I knew Elliot’s “calm” was nothing more than a thin blanket draped over an abyss.

King William was still missing.

A shadow was still pulling the strings.

And I… I was the only one still awake in a city that believed it had won a battle—without realizing the war was already inside its walls.

I put the photograph away and prepared to keep watch. The academy had returned to its routines, but in the shadows, absolute ice was still waiting for the moment to erupt again.

Because if Elliot had lied to give us hope… then the truth was far more terrible than we could imagine.