Queen Mirabelle rose from her throne with calculated grace, her peacock costume catching the light in a display that subtly reminded all present of summer's power. The miniature suns in her train had settled into slower orbits, suggesting calm authority, but Ali noticed they flared slightly brighter whenever they passed over the Winter Court's representatives.

  "My dear friends," the Queen's voice carried effortlessly through the great hall, warm and sweet as honey but with an underlying sharpness that made Ali's light pendant pulse in warning. "As this solstice celebration draws to its close, I have an announcement about fostering harmony between courts."

  Ali noticed the exact moment King Eirik Frostheart realized something was amiss - his raven costume seemed to absorb even more light, creating shadows that spoke of winter's displeasure. His posture, previously relaxed, took on a razor-sharp edge.

  "In the spirit of unity and understanding," Queen Mirabelle continued, her tone remaining warm even as the miniature suns in her train began to orbit faster, "I have decided that certain barriers between our courts have grown too rigid with time."

  The temperature in the hall dropped noticeably as the Winter King rose, his massive wings casting shadows that seemed to hold actual frost. He had not been consulted, that much was clear in every line of his stance, but court protocol prevented him from openly objecting during a solstice celebration.

  "Therefore," the Queen announced, power crackling beneath her sweet tone, "selected tributes will spend the remainder of the season as guests of the Winter Court, fostering deeper understanding between our realms."

  As she began listing names, Ali felt the crystal in her pocket grow ice-cold. She noticed how each named tribute's dove costume seemed to shimmer differently, as if already being marked by subtle magic. When the Queen spoke Ali's name, the light pendant gave a strong pulse of warning that seemed to fight against whatever enchantment was being woven into her costume.

  Through her dove mask, Ali saw the complicated political dance playing out before her. Queen Mirabelle was using the formal occasion to force the Winter Court's hand - they could not refuse this "gesture of goodwill" without appearing to reject unity between the courts. Yet Ali sensed something else in the Queen's magic, something being carefully woven into the very feathers of their dove costumes.

  King Eirik's ravens had gone preternaturally still, especially Rhys, whose costume now seemed to absorb so much light that it created a void in the air around him. The Winter King himself stood rigid, clearly aware that Mirabelle had outmaneuvered him in this moment, using the solstice celebration's sacred traditions of harmony to slip something into his court - or perhaps, Ali thought with sudden clarity, some ones.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  Queen Mirabelle continued listing names with deliberate precision, each one falling like a stone into still water, creating ripples of tension through the gathered courts. Ali noticed how carefully chosen each tribute seemed to be - those who had shown particular aptitude for magic, those who had demonstrated unusual abilities. Those, she realized with growing unease, who might serve as perfect vessels for summer's influence in winter's realm.

  When Sage's name was not called, Ali felt her friend's hand slip into hers, squeezing tightly. The crystal in her pocket had grown so cold it almost burned, while the light pendant at her throat pulsed with what felt like urgent warning. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in one of the hall's mirrors - her dove costume now shimmered with an iridescence that seemed to hold actual captured sunlight, far more pronounced than before.

  Melody-in-Moonlight moved through the crowd with careful grace to stand near the chosen tributes. Her feathers caught the light strangely, their usual moonlit shimmer now holding hints of dawn, as if attempting to provide one last touch of summer's protection. When she spoke, her voice carried an undertone Ali had never heard before - something ancient and worried.

  "Remember your training," Melody murmured, her fingers brushing Ali's arm in what might have been either blessing or warning. "The songs we practiced, the harmonies we've built." She hesitated, then added so softly Ali almost missed it, "Not all prisons have visible bars."

  The Queen's voice rose again, sweet and terrible in its beauty. "These chosen tributes will serve as bridges between our courts, strengthening the bonds between summer and winter." The miniature suns in her train orbited faster now, almost aggressively bright. "I trust they will remember their true allegiance, even in winter's embrace."

  King Eirik Frostheart's response was perfectly correct, perfectly courteous, and filled with barely contained winter fury. "We welcome these... unexpected guests," he said, his voice like ice cracking on a frozen lake. "And assure you they will be treated with all due consideration."

  Ali felt the weight of unspoken meanings in every word. The crystal pulsed cold against her skin, while the light pendant maintained its steady warmth. Caught between these opposing forces, she finally understood - she and the other chosen tributes were to be both gifts and weapons, bridges and breaches, their very presence designed to serve summer's subtle purposes in winter's court.

  The magical lights overhead shifted into new patterns, ones that seemed to hold both promise and warning. As the Queen called for one final dance of unity between the courts, Ali caught Rhys watching her through his raven mask. His costume absorbed the light around him like black ice, but she could have sworn she saw concern in his silver-grey eyes.

  Summer's dove would dance in winter's court, but the dance might prove more dangerous than anyone had bargained for.