Crossroads.

Winter's POV

The room becomes quiet after Mother's question.

Not the uncomfortable kind.

Not the kind filled with secrets or things left unsaid.

Just quiet.

The kind where someone has finally asked the one thing you have spent all your energy avoiding.

"Who do you love?"

I hate that I don't have an answer.

Not because I don't feel anything.

Because I feel too much.

For too many people.

For too many things.

My entire life has been built around choices that were never really mine. Ever since I was little, my each and every move has been long contemplated weeks sometimes months before they happened. As the High Wizard's first child a lot of eyes were constantly on me, waiting and watching for the slightest mistake. From the way I walked, spoke, and acted, every move was being carefully nitpicked and torn apart by envious eyes.

The treaty.

The marriage.

The expectations.

The sacrifices.

Everyone always knew what Winter was supposed to do.

Nobody ever stopped to ask what Winter wanted.

My mother watches me carefully, but she doesn't push.

That is probably the only reason I don't immediately run away from the conversation.

If this was anyone else, I would have already found an excuse.

A political issue.

A magical emergency.

Anything.

But my mother has always known me too well.

She knows when I am avoiding something.

"You don't have to answer right now."

I look up.

The softness in her voice surprises me.

"You don't?"

She shakes her head.

"No."

A small smile touches her lips.

"I spent years watching you believe that every decision had to be made immediately because everyone else was waiting."

My fingers tighten around the necklace.

"I don't want to hurt anyone."

"I know."

"And someone will get hurt."

Mother is quiet for a moment.

Then:

"Probably."

The honesty catches me off guard.

I look at her.

She sighs.

"Winter, love does not become easier just because we pretend the difficult parts do not exist."

I look away.

Because that sounds exactly like something she would say.

Calm.

Wise.

Annoyingly reasonable.

"I wish it was simpler."

"I know."

"I wish there was some sign."

Mother raises an eyebrow slightly.

"A sign?"

I gesture vaguely.

"Something that tells me what the right answer is."

A sad smile crosses her face.

"Winter."

"What?"

"You are wearing an ancient necklace connected to prophetic dreams and magical history."

I blink.

"That is not helping."

She laughs softly.

"I know."

For a moment, the heaviness disappears.

Just slightly.

And I realize how much I missed this.

Not the palace.

Not the politics.

Just this.

My mother teasing me.

Me complaining.

The normal things.

The things that existed before everything became complicated.

Then her expression softens again.

"You know what I think?"

I sigh.

"Should I be worried?"

"Probably."

I roll my eyes.

She ignores me.

"I think you have spent so long surviving that you forgot you are allowed to want things."

The words hit harder than expected.

Because maybe she is right.

When did I stop thinking about what I wanted?

When did every decision become about consequences?

About who would suffer.

About who needed me.

About what was expected.

I think about Keon.

About the way he looked at me like I was something precious.

About the way he made me angry.

About the way I missed him when he wasn't around.

Then Derrick.

His patience.

His kindness.

The way he made things feel peaceful.

Different.

My chest tightens.

Because both of them matter.

And that is the problem.

Mother notices my silence.

"You love them both in different ways."

My head snaps up.

"Mother."

"What?"

"You can't just say things like that."

"Why not?"

"Because then I have to think about them."

She smiles slightly.

"That is usually how thinking works."

I glare at her.

She looks completely unbothered.

Unfair.

"I don't know what I feel."

Mother nods.

"That is okay."

"It doesn't feel okay."

"No."

She reaches forward and squeezes my hand.

"It feels terrifying."

I look at her.

Because she understands.

She actually understands.

"When I married your father, I hated him."

I smile faintly.

"You've mentioned."

"Because it is important."

She looks down briefly.

"I thought my entire life was decided for me. I thought the treaty meant I had lost my freedom."

I listen quietly.

"But then somewhere along the way, I realized something."

Her eyes meet mine.

"The choice was never about whether someone else put me in that situation."

My breath catches.

"It was about what I chose to do after."

The room goes quiet.

Because I think about that.

Really think about it.

Keon was never a choice I made.

The bond happened.

The circumstances happened.

The treaty happened.

But everything after?

The conversations.

The trust.

The anger.

The moments where I reached for him.

Those were mine.

And Derrick?

The kindness.

The connection.

The feelings.

Those were mine too.

I close my eyes.

Gods.

Why did this have to be so complicated?

My mother embraces me in a deep hug, kissing my forehead before standing up slowly.

The movement surprises me.

"Where are you going?"

"To let you think."

I stare.

"You're leaving?"

She smiles.

"For once in your life, Winter, you need to sit with your own thoughts without trying to fix everyone else's problems."

I open my mouth.

Then close it.

Because again.

Annoyingly accurate.

She walks toward the door.

Before leaving, she pauses.

"One more thing."

I look up.

"What?"

Her expression becomes serious.

"Do not choose someone because you are afraid of hurting the other person."

The words settle heavily.

"That is not love."

I don't answer.

Because I know she is right.

She opens the door.

Then looks back at me.

"And do not choose someone because the world tells you they are the answer."

My hand moves unconsciously to the necklace.

The metal feels warm against my skin.

Mother's eyes flicker to it.

"Choose because when everything else is removed..."

She smiles sadly.

"You still want them there."

Then she leaves.

And for the first time in a very long time...

I am alone with my own thoughts.

No council.

No father.

No treaty.

No expectations.

Just me.

And two impossible choices.

The terrifying part is not that I don't know the answer.

The terrifying part is that somewhere deep inside...

I think I already do.

And I am not ready to admit it yet.