Aria's POV
The champagne glass slips through my fingers.
I catch it just before it hits the floor, my heart hammering. Nobody notices—they're all too busy laughing and dancing and celebrating my engagement. My engagement to Lord Damien Ashford, the most handsome Commander in the Summer Court. The man every girl wants to marry.
The man who hasn't looked at me once tonight.
"Smile, sister," Vivienne whispers in my ear as she glides past. Her voice sounds sweet, but something about it makes my skin crawl. "This is your special night, after all."
She's wearing red—my favorite color. The color I was supposed to wear tonight. But this morning, my dress mysteriously got "ruined," and Stepmother Celeste said I had to wear this pale pink thing instead. Now Vivienne looks like a queen, and I look like a child playing dress-up.
I force a smile anyway. Maybe I'm just being paranoid.
"Aria!" One of the guests grabs my arm—Lady Hartford, one of Stepmother's friends. "Such a beautiful party! Though I must say, we were all surprised when Lord Damien chose you." She leans in like we're sharing a secret. "Everyone expected him to pick someone with, you know, actual magical ability."
My cheeks burn. "Damien loves me for who I am."
"Of course, dear." Her smile doesn't reach her eyes. "Love conquers all, doesn't it?"
She walks away laughing with her friends, and I hear them whispering. I catch words like "powerless" and "lucky" and "won't last."
I want to disappear.
Instead, I search for Damien in the crowd. He's by the window, talking to Vivienne. His hand is on her arm. They're standing too close. When did they get so friendly?
My stomach twists.
"You look pale." Stepmother Celeste appears beside me, all fake concern. "Are you feeling well? We wouldn't want you to embarrass yourself tonight."
"I'm fine," I lie.
"Good. Because Lord Damien is about to make his toast." Her smile is sharp. "Do try to look happy, Aria. After all your father's money paid for this party."
My father. The real Master Healer who died two years ago and left everything to Celeste. The man who told me my magic was special, even if nobody else could see it.
I miss him so much it hurts.
The crowd quiets down. Damien is walking toward the center of the room, Vivienne right beside him. Why is she beside him? She should be in the crowd with everyone else.
"Thank you all for coming," Damien says, his voice strong and clear. He's so handsome in his formal uniform—dark hair, green eyes, tall and strong. He looks like a hero from the stories.
So why won't he look at me?
"Tonight is a very important night," he continues. "A night where truth must be told."
My heart starts beating faster. Something's wrong. Something's very wrong.
"I stand before you to discuss my engagement to Aria Thornwell."
People are staring at me. I try to smile, but my face feels frozen.
Damien finally looks at me, and my blood turns to ice. His eyes are cold. Angry. Like I've done something terrible.
"I have always valued strength," he says slowly. "Power. The ability to protect our people and lead them into the future."
Where is he going with this?
"Which is why I cannot, in good conscience, marry someone who possesses none of these qualities."
The room spins.
"What?" My voice comes out as a whisper.
"Aria Thornwell," Damien's voice gets louder, harder. "You claim to be a healer, but you have no magic. You claim to be from a great family, but you're nothing but a—"
"Fraud." Vivienne steps forward, and she's crying. Actual tears running down her face. But her eyes... her eyes are gleaming with something that looks like victory. "I'm so sorry, sister. I tried to protect you, but I can't anymore. I have to tell the truth."
"What are you talking about?" I can barely breathe.
She holds up a leather journal. My journal. The one I keep locked in my room where I write all my healing notes and ideas.
"I found this in your chambers," she says, her voice shaking like she's scared. "Aria has been experimenting with dark magic. She's been poisoning Queen Elara."
The crowd gasps.
"That's not true!" I scream. "I would never—"
"There are witnesses," Stepmother Celeste announces, suddenly beside Vivienne. "Guards who saw you entering the Queen's chambers at night. Servants who found these." She holds up small glass bottles. "Poison vials with your name engraved on them."
"I don't understand." My legs feel weak. "Those aren't mine. That's not—"
"You did it to prove you had power," Damien says, and his voice is disgusted. "To make people think you could heal the Queen when she got sick from your own poison."
"No!" Tears stream down my face. "Damien, please. You know me. You know I wouldn't—"
"I don't know you at all," he interrupts. "I thought I loved a kind healer. But you're just a desperate girl with no magic trying to steal credit for other people's work."
The room is spinning. This can't be happening. This can't be real.
Guards are moving toward me. Big men with swords.
"Vivienne, please," I beg my stepsister. "Tell them the truth. Tell them those aren't my journals, those aren't my potions—"
But Vivienne just cries harder and turns into Damien's arms. He holds her. Comforts her. Looks at her the way he used to look at me.
Oh gods. Oh gods, they planned this together.
"Aria Thornwell," a voice booms. Lord Chancellor Marcus steps forward. "By the power vested in me by the Summer Court, I strip you of your title, your family name, and your freedom. You are hereby found guilty of attempted murder of our Queen."
"Please!" I'm sobbing now. "I didn't do anything!"
"The sentence for such crimes is death," the Chancellor continues. "However, your stepmother has requested mercy."
Celeste steps forward, her face a mask of fake sadness. "Aria is still my late husband's daughter. I cannot bear to see her executed. I beg the court to show leniency."
"Then it is decided," the Chancellor announces. "Aria Thornwell will be exiled to Frostveil."
The crowd gasps again. Someone screams.
Frostveil. The frozen wasteland where the cursed Ice Prince lives. Where no one survives. Where people are sent instead of execution because freezing to death is slower.
"No," I whisper. "Please, no."
But the guards are already grabbing my arms. They're dragging me toward the doors. Everyone is watching. Some look horrified. Most look satisfied.
"Wait!" I scream, fighting against the guards. "Damien! DAMIEN!"
He finally looks at me one last time.
And then he kisses Vivienne. Right there. In front of everyone. At what was supposed to be our engagement party.
The last thing I hear before the guards throw me out of the palace is the crowd starting to cheer