Chill of Frustration

My room was an icy tomb, the frost creeping up the walls and glazing over the intricate carvings of the furniture. The polished surface of the mirror now reflected nothing but a foggy blur.

My breath puffed out in visible clouds, the temperature biting enough to numb my fingers. I was pacing back and forth, the train of my gown dragging against the cold, marble floor as I muttered furiously to myself.

"Unbelievable," I hissed, clenching my fists. "Completely and utterly ridiculous. A bodyguard? Her? Of all people?"

I stopped by the frost-coated window, glaring out at the moonlit courtyard below. My reflection stared back at me in the glass, a picture of barely restrained fury.

"Ren Khasar," I spat, the name leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

"The kingdom's youngest captain, the so-called hero of the battlefield. Oh, how lucky I am to have her shadowing my every move!" My voice dripped with sarcasm as I flung a hand dramatically, magic crackling at my fingertips.

"Because clearly, I can't protect myself," I continued, my tone mocking. "Oh no, poor, helpless Xyra needs someone to swoop in and save her every time danger rears its ugly head. Never mind that I've spent years honing my magic, mastering spells that most can't even comprehend. Never mind that I've fought and won against opponents far stronger than some random knife-wielding maniac."

My steps grew more agitated, my heels clicking against the frozen floor. I barely noticed the spreading frost beneath my feet, the room growing colder with each word.

"And her," I muttered, running a hand through my hair, the strands cold to the touch. "Of all the knights, they choose her. Ren with her smug little grin and her infuriatingly casual attitude. She's probably laughing about this right now, imagining how she'll make my life miserable. That arrogant, insufferable—"

A pulse of magic surged from my core, unbidden, and the frost thickened, coating half the room in a solid layer of ice. The curtains froze mid-sway, the air shimmering with crystalline shards. I exhaled sharply, trying to rein in my power, but my anger wouldn't let me.

"She thinks she's so clever," I growled, staring at the frost creeping up the edge of my bedframe.

"All her little quips, her irritating way of calling me—'Princess.' Ugh!" I kicked at a frozen chair leg, regretting it instantly as pain shot up my foot.

The cold didn't soothe me. If anything, it fueled my frustration. "As if I need her help," I muttered.

"As if I'm not perfectly capable of handling myself. I've fought beasts, mages, assassins, and I've come out unscathed every time. I don't need Ren Khasar hovering over me like some overgrown hawk."

I glared at the mirror, half-tempted to shatter it entirely. "And she had the audacity to smirk at me during the announcement. Smirk! As if this is some kind of joke to her."

I gritted my teeth, wrapping my arms around myself, not for warmth but to keep from letting loose another burst of magic. The frost had already turned my once-luxurious room into a miniature glacier.

"I don't want her here," I muttered, my voice quieter now but no less venomous. "I don't want her in my space, watching my every move, judging me with that stupid, smug expression. I don't want her protecting me like I'm some helpless damsel."

The words tasted bitter on my tongue. I clenched my fists again, the frost tightening its grip on the room.

A sudden knock shattered the tension.

"Xyra?" The deep, familiar voice was muffled by the thick door. "Why is it so cold in here?"

The door creaked open, revealing a tall figure with broad shoulders and a sharp, chiseled face that could have been carved from marble.

My brother, Eryndor, stepped inside, his fur-lined cloak brushing against the frozen edges of the doorframe. His dark hair was tied back neatly, and his piercing blue eyes so like mine took in the icy state of my room with an arched brow.

"Did you decide to move to the tundra, or is this your version of redecorating?" he asked, his tone light and teasing as he stepped further into the room. Frost crunched under his boots, and he glanced down, lifting one foot to inspect it. "Nice touch. Very… dramatic."

I crossed my arms, scowling at him. "What do you want?"

"Charming as always," he said with a grin, brushing off my cold tone as easily as he brushed the frost from the nearest chair. He sat down, the ice creaking under his weight. "I came to tell you it's time for dinner. And to check on my little sister, of course."

"I'm fine," I said sharply, turning away from him and facing the window again.

"Sure, you are," he said, leaning back in the chair. "Because freezing your room solid is a totally normal, fine thing to do."

I glared at him over my shoulder. "I don't need your sarcasm right now, Eryndor."

He held up his hands in mock surrender, though his grin didn't falter. "Alright, alright. But seriously, Xyra, what's going on? You're wound up tighter than a ballista."

I hesitated, not wanting to admit the truth, but the words spilled out before I could stop them. "Father assigned me a bodyguard."

Eryndor raised a brow. "Okay… and?"

"And it's Ren Khasar," I snapped, my voice laced with frustration.

Eryndor blinked, and then, to my horror, he laughed.

"Oh, that's brilliant," he said, his laughter echoing through the room. "I can't believe it. Ren Khasar, your bodyguard. This is going to be amazing."

"It's not amazing," I said through gritted teeth.

"Come on, Xyra," he said, still chuckling. "It's not the end of the world. Ren's competent, isn't she? One of the best knights in the kingdom?"

"That's not the point!" I snapped, spinning around to face him fully. "She's insufferable, arrogant, and—and smug!"

Eryndor tilted his head, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Smug, huh? Sounds like someone else I know."

I glared at him, but he just grinned.

"Relax," he said, rising from the chair and brushing frost from his cloak. "It's only temporary, right? Just until Father deems it safe."

I didn't respond, my jaw tightening.

Eryndor sighed, stepping closer and placing a hand on my shoulder. His grip was warm, even through the cold. "Look, I know you're not happy about this. But you're strong, Xyra. You'll handle it. You always do."

I looked away, not wanting to meet his gaze.

"And," he added, his tone softer now, "I'm sorry I missed your graduation ceremony. I wanted to be there, but…"

"It's fine," I said quickly, cutting him off.

"It's not fine," he said firmly. "You deserved to have your whole family there, and I let you down. I'm sorry."

I finally looked at him, his sincerity cutting through my frustration like a blade. "You're here now," I said quietly.

He smiled, squeezing my shoulder before letting go. "Come on," he said, heading for the door. "Dinner's waiting, and Mother will have my head if you're late."

I hesitated, glancing around my frozen room one last time before following him. The frost would thaw eventually. It always did.