Page 138 of Burning Ice
“Come and see me soon. We can play with the dolls.”
“Of course, Mama,” Cyprian said.
Celia squeezed him tight. “My beautiful boys. One light, one dark. Both hearts filled with love.”
Next to them, Milanov’s hand wouldn’t leave Norma. Mirel saw how Moargan had to steer him away from his sleeping mother. Both had tears in their eyes.
Outside, the air had darkened to slate, snow beginning to drift. They stood together on the steps, watching the hover cars lift from the drive, lights gliding into the white. Celia waved from the window as the procession disappeared into the flurry, her smile small and bright.
No one spoke. Only the hush of turbines fading and the soft patter of snow on stone.
“The turbines faded. Snow did the rest,” Helianth said under his breath, already loosening his collar.
“Who wants a beer?” he added.
“Downstairs?” Daven asked, glancing toward the gallery.
“Where else?” Moargan said. “If we’re trapped by snow, we might as well drink like civilized men.”
Laughter broke through the gloom, a last easy moment before the night found them again.
They drifted toward the sitting area off Milanov’s long gallery, flakes blurring the high windows. Bottles opened. Voices lifted as they sank into low chairs and unbuckled their jackets. The room smelled of wet stone and warm ember.
A servant appeared at the doorway, bowing slightly. “Mr. Archer has arrived, sirs.”
Archer stepped in behind him, soaked to the skin, meltwater running from his hair to the floor.
“Nice of you to swim here,” Helianth called, raising his glass with a crooked grin.
Archer’s answering smile was all teeth and mischief. “Didn’t want you drinking without adult supervision.”
“Then you’ve come to the wrong house,” Moargan said, laughing as Archer shook snow from his sleeves and claimed the nearest seat.
The warmth deepened, the easy camaraderie holding for a moment before the weather pressed closer.
Aviel straightened, restless. He set his glass down with a soft click. “Bring him in,” he said.
The guards outside exchanged a glance before one disappeared through the door. Moments later, Theo was led inside. He looked slight in the low light, curls damp against his temples, beauty almost disarming. Cuffs caught the light like jewelry.
Silence held.
Aviel’s gaze followed Theo as the guards stepped back. “You know where to stand,” he said. The tone was almost kind. The almost cut.
Theo obeyed, chains whispering as he moved to the corner near the wall. The quiet thickened, broken only by the hush of snow against glass.
“You said I should learn when to be quiet,” Theo murmured.
Aviel’s mouth curved, lazy and cruel. “And I said I’d teach you what silence means.”
For a moment, no one breathed.
Then Helianth cleared his throat, forcing a grin. “Well, nothing kills a party like manners.”
Conversation resumed, deliberate, as if pretending the scene had never happened.
Theo kept his gaze on the floor. Meltwater beaded along his curls and fell one by one to the tile. Aviel watched the drops land as if measuring them.
“You’ll answer when I ask,” Aviel said.
