The noble Icelanders felt the breath of their Ice Queen, while the ordinary people of Icelands felt her presence once more.
"She's alive...? Impossible!"
The Ice King was furious. When Byanka had been believed dead, her cousin Marcel had forcibly seized the throne and ruthlessly eliminated anyone who dared oppose his reign.
When Byanka finally returned, she witnessed the struggles her people had endured under Marcel's rule. The sight filled her with anger, and without hesitation, she rushed toward the Ice Palace.
The moment she landed before the Palace doors, a powerful force erupted from her. The impact sent a shockwave across the entrance, rattling the walls and shaking the ground beneath their feet.
"How dare you sit upon my throne and claim it as your own?! You have brought suffering upon our people. You are not qualified to rule Icelands!"
Marcel appeared before her. Instead of showing fear, he let out a quiet, mocking laugh.
"Then where were you, Your Majesty?" he asked. "Where were you when our prestigious Icelands was mocked and insulted? Where were you when our people were captured and humiliated? Where the hell were you...?"
The words struck Byanka harder than any physical attack could have.
A chill ran down her spine as guilt settled heavily within her chest. For the past two years, she had lived an extravagant life surrounded by luxury, comfort, and respect, while her own people had been left to suffer beneath a tainted reputation.
She lowered her gaze for a moment, allowing the weight of her absence to sink in. Yet, despite the guilt consuming her, she slowly raised her head and met Marcel's eyes.
"I nearly walked through the door of death itself, and only recently have I recovered. Do you truly wish to question your Queen?"
Marcel's expression darkened.
Rage burned within him as he stared at his cousin, the rightful ruler of Icelands, standing before him with enough courage to reclaim the throne he had stolen.
"Byanka!"
Bella's voice echoed through the palace entrance.
She rushed toward her cousin, but hesitated just before embracing her. She knew Byanka had spent the past two years in the Firelands, and countless questions flooded her mind.
"Whatever you saw, it isn't what it looked like," Byanka explained. "He hid me away and prevented my memories from resurfacing. I am sorry I didn't recognize you, Cousin."
Bella's eyes widened as the pieces finally fell into place.
"Cousin!"
She immediately embraced Byanka, and Byanka returned the embrace tightly.
For a brief moment, the tension surrounding the palace disappeared.
However, Marcel's gaze remained fixed upon Byanka. His expression was cold and filled with resentment.
He slowly faded into the shadows before disappearing completely.
"I'll be back, Your Majesty..."
Byanka watched the place where he had vanished. Anxiety immediately settled within her. She knew Marcel would not simply surrender the throne, and she feared what he might do in his pursuit of revenge.
Before she could think further, an uncomfortable sensation twisted within her stomach.
"Ugh..."
Bella immediately noticed.
"Byanka?"
Byanka pressed a hand against her stomach and groaned softly.
Bella quickly supported her and helped her toward the Throne Room.
Meanwhile, news of the Ice Queen's return spread throughout the Firelands.
The Firelanders were horrified.
They had heard that the Ice Queen of Icelands was alive and had finally reclaimed her rightful place. Fear spread among the Fire Nobles and ordinary Firelanders alike, especially among those who had mistreated the people of Icelands during Byanka's absence.
Desperate for protection, the Fire Nobles and ordinary Firelanders hurried to their Fire King.
"Your Majesty, please protect us!"
"They will come for us!"
"We did not know the Ice Queen was alive!"
Aamon listened to their pleas in silence.
Then, his expression hardened.
"You mistreated them," he said coldly. "But I never ordered you to do so, nor did I ever give you permission."
The Firelanders fell silent.
Aamon's eyes swept across them.
"You will reap what you have sown."
His words carried no mercy.
He allowed his people to live with the consequences of their actions, forcing them to understand the fear and suffering they had inflicted upon the Icelands.
Yet when the palace grew quiet that night, Aamon found himself alone.
He stood before a window and looked toward the moon hanging high above the darkened sky.
He missed Byanka.
Despite everything that had happened, he could only stare at the moon and wonder whether she was looking at it too.