The journey through Winter territory felt like walking through a dream. Frost glittered on every surface, and the air itself seemed to hold a crystalline quality that made distant objects appear closer than they were. The Summer tributes huddled together, their court-given warmth holding the worst of the cold at bay, but still grateful for the presence of their Winter escorts.

  Ali noticed the exact moment the Winter Palace came into view. Clara gasped softly, Thomas whispered a quiet "oh," and even Elena, usually so composed, drew in a sharp breath. The palace rose before them like a mountain of ice and starlight, its spires reaching toward the pearl-gray sky like frozen fingers. Delicate bridges and walkways connected various towers and structures, all seemingly carved from the same translucent ice.

  "The Winter King's seat of power," announced one of their escorts, his voice carrying the crisp clarity of breaking icicles. "But before we cross, you'll need proper attire."

  As if summoned by his words, several figures emerged from the frost-covered trees that lined their path. Each carried what appeared to be a fur cloak, but as they drew closer, Ali realized the material was unlike any fur she'd seen before. The cloaks seemed to shift between pure white and pale blue, with crystalline patterns woven throughout that caught and reflected the winter light.

  A tall, hooded figure approached Ali, and even before he lowered his hood, she knew it was Rhys. His movements carried the same fluid grace she'd noticed during their dance at the masked ball. When he revealed his face, his eyes held the same intensity that had captivated her that night.

  "The journey across the bridge can be treacherous without proper protection," Rhys said softly, holding up the cloak. "May I?"

  Ali nodded, not trusting her voice. As Rhys stepped behind her to settle the cloak around her shoulders, she caught a scent like winter pine and night-blooming flowers. The cloak itself was impossibly soft and surprisingly heavy, its weight somehow reassuring rather than burdensome.

  "The fur is from the winter foxes," Rhys explained as he fastened the clasp at her throat—a delicate piece of metalwork that resembled intertwining snowflakes. "They shed their coats only once every seven years, and the pelts retain some of their magic. The cloak will protect you from the worst of winter's bite."

  As he spoke, his fingers brushed against the light pendant at her throat. Ali felt both the pendant and the hidden crystal pulse in response to his proximity. If Rhys noticed anything unusual, he gave no sign, but his hands lingered perhaps a moment longer than necessary as he adjusted the cloak's fit.

  Around them, the other tributes were receiving their cloaks with similar ceremony. Ali noticed that each clasp was unique—Clara's resembled a frozen rose, Thomas's a crystalline tree, Elena's a cluster of icicles, and Marcus's a frost-covered star.

  "The bridge awaits," announced their guide, gesturing toward what Ali now realized was their path to the palace.

  The bridge was both beautiful and terrifying. It spanned a deep chasm, its surface appearing to be pure ice that somehow remained perfectly clear despite the constant foot traffic it must endure. Delicate railings of frost-covered crystal lined either side, but they looked far too fragile to offer any real protection. What truly caught Ali's attention, however, was how the bridge seemed to sing in the wind, producing haunting melodies that made her think of Melody-in-Moonlight's lessons about the music inherent in all things.

  "The Frost Song Bridge," Rhys said, having remained by Ali's side. "It's said that only those the Winter Court truly welcomes can cross safely. The bridge itself judges worthiness."

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  Ali's silver bracelet grew cool against her wrist, and she felt the Queen's blessing pulse inside her like a second heartbeat.

  "Stay close to me," Rhys murmured, offering his arm. "The first crossing can be... unsettling."

  Ali accepted his arm, noting how the crystal in her hem seemed to pulse more strongly at the contact. The other tributes were similarly paired with Winter fae escorts, and together they began their approach to the bridge.

  The first step onto the ice was like stepping into a dream. The surface was perfectly smooth yet somehow not slippery, and each footfall produced a crystalline note that joined the bridge's ongoing song. Through the transparent ice, Ali could see the chasm below—a dizzying drop into shadows and swirling snow.

  "Keep your eyes forward," Rhys advised, seeming to sense her vertigo. "Let the bridge's music guide your steps."

  Ali focused on the palace ahead, but couldn't help being aware of how the bridge's song changed as they progressed. The notes seemed to shift in response to each person crossing, creating a complex harmony that made her think of star-filled nights and the silence of falling snow.

  Halfway across, a strong gust of wind caused the bridge to sway slightly. Clara let out a small shriek, and Thomas stumbled, but their escorts kept them steady. Ali found herself gripping Rhys's arm more tightly, and he responded by placing his free hand over hers.

  "The bridge is stronger than it appears," he assured her. "It has weathered storms that would shatter mountains."

  As if in response to his words, the bridge's song deepened, taking on richer tones that reminded Ali of the bass notes Melody-in-Moonlight had taught her to weave into her music. The pendant at her throat grew warm, while the crystal in her hem pulsed cool and steady. Together, they seemed to create their own harmony with the bridge's song.

  When they finally reached the other side, Ali released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Looking back, she watched the remaining winter escort and tribute pairs make their crossing. The bridge's song changed subtly for each group, and Ali found herself unconsciously analyzing the variations in tone and rhythm.

  "You hear it, don't you?" Rhys asked, watching her with curious intensity. "The patterns in the music?"

  Ali nodded. "Each crossing changes the song, but there's an underlying structure that remains constant."

  "Most humans don't notice that level of detail," he said thoughtfully. "Even some fae miss the subtle variations. You have an unusual gift for perceiving such things."

  Before Ali could respond, they were ushered toward the palace entrance. Up close, the structure was even more impressive. What had appeared to be solid ice from a distance revealed itself to be an intricate latticework of frozen patterns, each telling its own story through symbolic designs that shifted and changed as they watched.

  The entrance itself was a massive archway that seemed to have been carved from a single piece of ice, its surface etched with runes that glowed with a pale blue light. As they passed beneath it, Ali felt a tingling sensation wash over her—something magical testing or measuring her in some way.

  Inside, the palace opened into a vast hall that seemed to capture and amplify every available bit of light. Columns of ice rose to dizzying heights, their surfaces catching and refracting light in ways that created ever-changing patterns across the floors and walls. The air was cool but not uncomfortably so, and Ali realized her new cloak was indeed doing its job of protecting her from the worst of winter's chill.

  "Welcome to the Heart of Winter," Rhys announced, his voice carrying a note of pride. "The Winter King will receive you formally tomorrow, after you've had time to rest and settle into your quarters."

  As if on cue, several Winter fae appeared to escort the tributes to their rooms. Ali noticed that unlike in the Summer Court, they would not be sharing quarters. Each tribute was led down a different corridor, and Ali found herself following a elegant fae woman with hair like freshly fallen snow down a series of hallways that seemed to be made of crystallized starlight.

  Just before she left with her escort, Ali caught one last glimpse of Rhys. He was watching her with an unreadable expression, and as their eyes met, both the pendant and crystal pulsed once in perfect synchronization. Ali couldn't help but wonder if he somehow knew about both tokens—and if so, whose side he was truly on in this game of court politics.

  The Summer Queen's blessing sat like a warm coal in her chest, pleasant but dangerous, while her mother's silver bracelet remained cool against her wrist. As she followed her escort deeper into the Winter Palace, Ali couldn't shake the feeling that she was walking a path as precarious as the Frost Song Bridge—and that one wrong step could send her plummeting into the depths below.