Chapter Five
ISA
M orning light spilled across Glaciara in when we set out for the market. I was bundled in the heavy coat and boots the Wanderstar Fleet issued me before leaving on the trip. I had extreme doubts about the thin layers of fabric but something in the technology worked to regulate my body temperature, keeping me warm against the frigid temps. The Glaciarians with me, Queen Akora and Prince Thadron, wore light long sleeve knits as though we were out for a spring walk.
Thadron was silent as he led the way into the bazaar.
I couldn’t stop replaying his words from the night before. A ridiculous waste of time. His tone had been sharp, cutting through the warm memories of dinner. Part of me wanted to brush it off. He could be tired, or maybe he wasn’t a fan of shopping trips. But another part, the part that had watched his stiff posture and guarded expression all evening, felt there was more to it. For someone so deeply tied to his people, why did he seem so disconnected from their traditions? I didn’t know what bothered me more, his lack of enthusiasm for the festivities or the nagging feeling that his distance was hiding something. None of it was really my business. That’s what I wanted to believe as I kept telling myself. But I guess that overachiever streak in me refused to go away. I wanted to see what was behind that icy exterior.
Snow-encrusted stalls towered around us. Vendors showed off their wares of cosmic minerals that glinted under the planet’s distant sun. The air buzzed with the chatter of sellers and buyers. Scents of spiced incense wafted through the air, mingling with the rich aroma of what had to be roasted nuts.
"Have you ever tried a glimrin twist?" Thadron asked, his voice cutting through the din with surprising cordiality.
I wasn’t expecting him to show interest in the bazaar. Then again, he did love his holiday desserts. “I haven’t. But Lucian claims you’re the pastry expert.”
He wrinkled his nose. “My brother sometimes confuses his role of crown prince with court jester.”
“C’mon. I think it’s cute you like to eat pastries.”
The space between his brows grew smaller as he gave me a strange look. The next half seconds stalled as I realized I referred to to Glaciara’s royal ambassador and master at arms as cute. I looked around. Who all heard me? Queen Akora was some paces to the side, looking at colorful cloth. The guards flanked us, their stoic faces staring off in the distance.
“This way.” Thadron pointed toward a stall where steam rose in delicate curls. The vendor twisted dough into ornate shapes before plunging them into vats of boiling syrup.
I took interest in how the glimrin twists were formed. After they were doused in the syrup, the vendor took out a metal canister and sprinkled what looked like crystallized sugar.
"Here." Thadron handed me one after requesting two. His fingers brushed mine in the exchange. The pastry was warm against the chill. Once it was no longer too hot to eat, I tasted it. The sweetness of the glimrin berries exploded with the first bite.
"This is delicious," I said, savoring the treat.
He handed me a napkin, indicating for me to wipe my chin.
“Did I get it?”
He shook his head. He took the napkin from me and dabbed at my face. “Glimrin berries are good but messy.”
His touch was feather light but I felt it even after his hand moved away. We stared at each other.
"Look at this, Isabelle," Queen Akora’s voice laced with excitement as she gestured toward a lot adorned with smaller versions of the planet’s white-tipped evergreens. "Families decorate these trees during the Feast of Frostfires. Each ornament tells a story, a dream, or a wish."
As Akora passionately shared Glaciarian holiday traditions, I noticed Thadron's disinterest. His gaze wandered over to the stark plains in the distance, and his posture was stiff. When the queen spoke of the Aurora Walk, meant to bring blessings of clarity and love, he scoffed softly.
"Thadron, when is the Aurora Walk?" I asked, hoping to draw him out. He glanced at me, eyes widening like he was surprised I was still talking to him.
"In two days. But I still have to visit the stables and oversee the training for the frostgrazer forest run.”
"Can I watch the preparations? I'd love to learn more about it," I ventured again, feeling the urge to chip away at the frosty veneer he wore so well. Perhaps my love of a good mystery was getting me into trouble.
"Maybe," he grunted before adding, "I have a tight schedule, Isa."
"Of course," I conceded, biting back my frustration. "I'll come by the stables later then. No need to keep you from your work."
I could sense his relief as he nodded, eager to escape the bazaar. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to head there now.”
Queen Akora placed a gentle hand on my arm as Thadron headed back in the direction of the keep. “Work has always been his refuge." Her tone suggested understanding and respect for his dedication. “It has benefitted our people.”
“It has,” I agreed with her. But at what cost to Thadron? Had he always been like this? I knew better than to ask the queen about the royal family’s personal business.
With the queen's words lingering in my thoughts, I continued to peruse the market stalls. I soon wondered if I could find a different gift for Thadron here. The merchandise in the stalls offered a glimpse into Glaciarian culture. Yet, no item seemed right for him. Except glimrin pastries, but he could get those anywhere here and they wouldn’t last until the gift exchange.
Time ticked onward, the market's din growing louder as more Glaciarians gathered to shop for the holidays. I felt the weight of my assignment pressing down on me.
"Isa, are you alright?" the queen inquired.
I must have looked odd, standing there among all the activity and thinking about Thadron. “Just taking it all in, Your Majesty.”
She viewed me with a keen yet concerned eye. “I think we should head back soon, too. You’re still adjusting to the climate. It may be too cold out here for you.”
When we returned to the keep, the cold still clung to my ears, but my thoughts were elsewhere. I asked one of the palace aides to point me towards the stables outside.
The stables smelled of cold clean hay. My boots crunched lightly against the frost-dusted floor as I stepped inside, my eyes scanning for Thadron. Light came through crystalline windows, casting jagged shadows, but there was no sign of him or anyone else.
A soft huff of breath caught my attention. I turned and froze, my annoyance giving way to awe.
Standing in the next stall was a creature that looked like it had stepped straight out of a myth. The animal was about the size of a sturdy horse, but its elk-like frame was far more graceful. Its fine snow-white fur reminded me of powdered frost. Elegant antlers branched from its head, velvet yet sharp-tipped. They glowed faintly, as though the cold itself pulsed through them.
This must have been the frostgrazer Thadron told me about.
The animal’s eyes, a deep, haunting silver, met mine with a serene curiosity. Its breath misted the air, small clouds of vapor escaping its velvet nose.
“You’re beautiful,” I whispered, more to myself than to the creature.
It blinked slowly, like it accepted the compliment with quiet dignity. My frustration with Thadron felt distant now, the wonder of this moment easing my tension. For a heartbeat, everything else faded—the politics, the expectations, even the cold.
The frostgrazer snorted softly, almost like it was encouraging me to keep going. I smiled faintly. Maybe I’d get through this interplanetary goodwill trip after all.
I left the frostgrazer to his midday meal before returning to the keep. I looked around, half-expecting to see Thadron near the archives, or standing in one of the halls. He was nowhere to be found. A tight knot of frustration curled in my stomach. Is he avoiding everyone, or just me? His absence felt deliberate, like a door closing before I even had a chance to knock.
Brushing off the thought, I changed out of my cold weather gear and made my way through toward the media room. The Wanderstar Fleet needed an update, and I couldn’t get my com link to work without a fresh charge. The sleek door slid open with a soft hiss, and I stepped inside, following the glow of the communication console.
Instead, I was met by the unnerving sight of Cryostrum. He stood near the console, his grey fingers adjusting the holographic display. His eyes flicked toward me, and a meager smile formed on his lips.
“Ambassador Hartman. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
I forced a polite smile. “I need to check in with the Fleet, let them know everything’s going well.”
“Of course. You’re diligent. Admirable, really. But I’m sure there’s nothing to worry them about, is there?”
The way he said it made my skin prickle. “Just a routine update. They expect it.”
His smile tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might argue. But with a curt nod, he stepped back. “Don’t let me keep you.”
I watched him glide out of the room, his footsteps silent, his presence lingering like a bad aftertaste. The door closed behind him, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.
Shaking off the unease, I turned to the console and activated the link. As the connection blinked to life, I gathered my thoughts. Focus on the mission. You’ve got enough to worry about without getting tangled up in Glaciarian politics.
But even as I spoke to the Fleet, my mind wandered back to Thadron’s absence, and the feeling that there were secrets on Glaciara no one was willing to share.
I DIDN'T SEE THADRON at dinner later that day or at breakfast the next.
After an afternoon spent in the archives learning about the traditions of the Starlight Song and Aurora Walks, I returned to my room, where someone left a surprise on the bed. My jaw dropped at the sight of a festive red gown. A card rested beside it. I hurried to pick it up to see who left it.
A small welcome gift for the Starlight Song Festival this evening. -Thadron P.S. The bodice stretches, so eat all the glimrin pastries you want.
I giggled at Thadron’s humor, and was touched by this unexpected gesture. I lifted the dress and held it up in the mirror. The gown appeared to be sewn to my measurements. The embroidered sleeves were long and graceful, with a train nearly reaching to the floor. Then I saw the matching red shoes on the floor by the bed. The prince thought of everything.
The dress shimmered in the light, the rich crimson fabric catching the soft glow from my room’s chandelier fixtures. I turned it in my hands, fingers tracing the intricate embroidery. It was beautiful. Elegant, yet not overdone. And the fact that he had chosen it made my heart flutter in a way I didn't see coming.
I smiled, imagining his deadpan expression as he wrote that note about the pastries. The idea of Thadron taking the time to select a dress for me was... unexpected. He didn’t seem like the type to pay attention to details like this. Yet, here it was—a perfect fit, down to the matching shoes.
But as the warmth of the moment settled in, I remembered it had been days since I last saw him. The gesture was sweet, but did it make up for him doing a vanishing act because he supposedly didn’t like the holiday? I wasn’t sure if I should feel flattered or frustrated.
I sighed, setting the dress back on the bed. The truth was, I felt both . Thadron’s gift showed how thoughtful he was, but his absence wasn’t making both our jobs as diplomats easier. He had walls I couldn’t seem to break through. What was truly keeping him away?
I shook off the thought, determined not to let my curiosity overload and Thadron’s absence ruin my night. I’d wear the gown and enjoy the festival. For now, all I could do was step into the shoes he’d left for me and see where the evening would take me.
My excitement about the Starlight Song festival renewed, I hopped into the shower before putting on the dress. After styling my hair, I walked through the palace corridors, feeling the swish of the silken lining against my legs, and hearing the gentle rustle of the dress’s outer layers. The fabric had a fine quilted layer throughout.
Now on to my third day here, I learned some shortcuts through the keep. I opened the door that would lead me outside across a walkway to the main hall. Stepping out into the frigid air, I noticed my arms and legs felt none of the chill. I wondered if that was the purpose of the dress’s quilted layers and lining. If so, Prince Thadron truly thought of everything.
I followed the sound of a soft baritone voice drifting from below the walkway. I peered over the edge, and there he was, two stories down, saddled stop a frostgrazer. His fingers curled around the reins as he rode the animal through a patch of earth and frozen grass. He didn't notice me immediately, lost in a song that seemed to resonate with the pulsing life force of the planet.
My steps locked in place as I listened. The low timbre of his voice wove through the air, a melody both haunting and beautiful. It was the kind of song that felt ancient, like it carried the weight of generations past. The small patch of land below the balcony shifted, and I found myself gazing at a muddy plain. Other things came into focus. The mud pooled in multiple hoofprints and the tread of military vehicles. Something acrid hit my nose, and I raised my eyes to see black smoke in the distance. Air vehicles were downed. A military ground transport vehicle was overturned.
Thadron kept singing and I soon heard a chorus of alarming shouts and cries for help behind his sad melody.
My heart raced at the scene. What was happening? He launched into another song, and the muddy plain became a silent forest of alien evergreen. I felt an icy breeze through my hair as it stirred the tiny icicles on the green-blue pine like needles.
I found myself unable to speak or move. But I could think. I was aware his song put me in some kind of trance. Hearing his words, even though I didn’t understand the language, opened my mind to whatever he sang about.
I looked to him.
He looked different in this moment—softer, unguarded. The perpetual lines of tension around his mouth had eased, and his eyes were warm with a quiet reverence. The frostgrazer tossed his antlers. Thadron’s hand partly disappeared in the animal’s downy fur as he absently pat the top of the animal’s head. He stopped singing, and he murmured something to the animal, a faint smile playing at the corner of his lips.
As the song faded, so did the lonely yet peaceful forest he created. My trance gradually weakened as the evergreen trees gave way to the land below the balcony.
I took a breath, my fingers tightening on the folds of my dress. The surprise of seeing him here, after days of absence, churned in my chest.
I cleared my throat. The sound was quiet, but it was enough. Thadron turned to face me. For a heartbeat, his gaze swept over me, lingering on the red gown he had gifted. A flicker of something—pride?—crossed his face before it dissolved behind his usual stoicism.
"Your voice," I let my words drift down to him. "It's amazing."
A very visible red flush crept up his neck to clash with the cool blue of his skin. "You heard that?"
"Hard not to," I admitted. "It carries well. Good to see you back.”
He nodded, his jaw tightening as though he already knew I was going to ask where he’d been. “I had things to attend to.” The words were clipped, a deflection I’d heard before.
I rested my hands on the cold stone if the balcony. As I moved the rustle of the dress was louder in the stillness between us. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
He didn’t deny it. His view drifted toward the snowy horizon. “I thought it was better that way.”
“Better for who?” The words slipped out before I could stop them. The hurt I’d tried to suppress cracked through my voice. “Because it sure didn’t feel better for me.”
Why did I even feel hurt by all this? My feelings were starting to not make sense to me. If it hadn’t been for the fact I experienced them before, I would’ve assumed it was due to Thadron’s hypnotic singing.
His gaze returned to mine, a storm brewing in his eyes. For a second, I thought he might shut me out again. Instead, his shoulders dropped a fraction, the tension softening.
“I didn’t mean to—” he started, but the words caught in his throat.
I took a shaky breath. “I’m wearing your gift, you know.” I held out a fold of the dress, trying to lighten the moment, even as my heart pounded. “It’s hard to be mad at someone who makes you feel this warm in a place this cold.”
A shadow of a smile curved his lips. “The dress was meant to do that.” He paused, eyes meeting mine. “But I didn’t want you to think I... didn’t care.”
“You told me you didn’t care.”
“That was about the festivities. I didn’t mean you.”
My heart skipped a beat. The sincerity in his voice melted a little of my frustration. “I appreciate that,” I said softly. “And the dress. Thank you.”
He nodded. The cold air swirled around us, but for the first time since I arrived, it didn’t feel so biting.
“Are you going to the festival?” I pointed to the way leading to the main hall.
“I have to take Elinru to the stables and then change.”
I noted that could mean either yes or no. “I guess I’ll let you surprise me.”
“You seemed to like the first one. We’ll see.” This time he presented a smile that went through the layers of my dress, warming me in secret places the dress couldn’t reach.
"The dress suits you.”
His compliment made the warmth spread throughout my body. “Thanks. It’s cozy. You know me and cozy things.”
“I didn’t want you to shiver during the festivities.” He put the frostgrazer’s reins in his other gloved hand. “The queen may have assisted me by telling the royal tailors your measurements.”
“Well, I’ll be sure to thank Her Majesty as well.”
He inclined his head in regal fashion to me before turning his frostgrazer in the direction of the stable.
I stared after the rider. How could I be drawn to him, this alien male who seemed to pull away even as he stepped closer?
Thadron was an enigma. I wanted to blame it all on my love of a good mystery, but it was something deeper.
Oh, jingles. Was this me getting into an alien prince?
The cold wind prickled at my neck and ears . I got myself across the walkway and headed towards the ballroom before I had time to think of an answer to my own question.