The journey to the summer palace had been swift, the dark-scaled SeaWing guiding Frost and her companions through the sun-dappled waters with practiced ease. As they emerged into the grandeur of the palace, Queen Coral stood regally, a vibrant pink dragonet nestled beside her. Her expression softened instantly as she caught sight of Tsunami. "Ah, my beloved daughter, you're home," she said, enveloping Tsunami in a warm, motherly embrace.

Frost stood a little apart, her icy tail flicking nervously as she absorbed the unfamiliar surroundings. "You must be Queen Coral," she offered politely, inclining her head in respect. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Queen Coral's demeanor shifted, her gaze sharpening as it landed on Frost. Her warm welcome turned to suspicion, and she hissed softly, the sound reminiscent of the sea breeze through sharp coral. "An IceWing in my palace?" she questioned, eyebrows arched in a mixture of curiosity and wariness.

Her eyes darted to Riptide, the dark-scaled SeaWing who had led them there. "Riptide, explain why you thought it was a wise decision to bring an IceWing into our midst. She could easily be a spy for Blaze or Burn, for all we know!"

Riptide straightened under the Queen's scrutiny, ready to defend his choice, while Frost steeled herself, understanding that the road to trust would be as intricate as coral and as enduring as the sea itself.

Frost held her head high, her voice steady and clear. "Queen Coral, I assure you, I have no allegiance to either Blaze or Burn. My life has been spent entirely within the Ice Kingdom, with no ties to their affairs," she declared with conviction.

Queen Coral regarded her with a calculating gaze, humming thoughtfully as if weighing Frost's words against the ever-present threat of danger. "As if I'm supposed to believe you," she responded, her tail slicing through the air with a decisive swish. Her expression shifted to one of icy resolve.

"Shark," she called to one of her guards, her tone authoritative and unwavering. "Escort Frost inside and ensure she's secured in the dungeon." A cold smile played at the corners of her mouth, a stark contrast to the warmth she'd shown Tsunami moments before.

As Shark moved to fulfill the Queen's command, Frost remained resolute, knowing that though the path before her was fraught with challenges, her intentions were as clear and unwavering as the wintry expanse she hailed from. She would have to find a way to prove her sincerity, one step at a time, even if those steps led her to the confines of the dungeon.

Tsunami's instincts kicked in with the force of a tidal wave, and she surged forward, placing herself firmly between Frost and the approaching threat. "What? Mom, no! She's fine, really!" Her voice was a tempest of protest, resonating through the cavernous openness of the palace with a defiance that matched the stormy seas. Her sharp teeth glinted dangerously as she faced Shark, her uncle, the large gray SeaWing whose presence could intimidate most.

"Don't touch her, you sea slug!" Tsunami snarled, her tail whipping through the air like a living thing, a watery serpent coiled for attack. Her scales shone with the intensity of her protective fury, catching the light in a cascade of oceanic hues.

Shark paused, his pale, almost haunting eyes narrowing as he glanced between the iron will of the Queen and the fiery determination of the Princess. "Your Highness," he began slowly, his tone cautious and measured, yet beneath it lay the taut thread of tension, a line strung tightly between duty and family. "Should I obey you or the princess?"

Queen Coral exhaled a deep, rippling sigh that seemed to echo off the walls like a mournful sea breeze. She stepped forward, each movement practiced and elegant, her stature cutting a formidable figure above her daughter. "Why are you defending this IceWing?" she asked, her words laced with irritation, yet there was a note of genuine perplexity there, as though she couldn't fathom the depths of Tsunami's loyalty.

"She's done nothing for you. She'll do nothing but prove to be a useless burden," Coral continued, her voice as sharp and cool as a breaking wave, her gaze piercing like sunlight reflecting off of ice.

Yet for all the Queen's skepticism, Tsunami stood undeterred, a beacon of resolve amidst Coral's stormy doubts. The air seemed to crackle with the tension of potential—potential for conflict, for understanding, for change. And in this moment, Tsunami was not just defending a friend; she was challenging the beliefs that sought to limit them, determined to carve a path through the cynicism and mistrust that loomed around them like the depths of the ocean itself.

💙💜

The dungeons of the SeaWing kingdom were a masterwork of grim design, crafted not merely to imprison but to crush the spirit of those confined within. Situated on a forsaken isle shrouded by an ever-present haze, the prison loomed like a jagged claw rising from the sea. Encircling it was a wide moat of brackish water, its surface deceptively still, while beneath churned the silent menace of electric eels. Their thin, serpentine bodies glided through the murk, emitting faint pulses of light like distant lightning storms trapped in the depths, a constant reminder of the doom awaiting any escape attempt.

The air was thick and salty, carrying with it the faint hum of the eels' energy and the muffled crash of waves against distant rocks. Frost stood motionless, her pale form stark against the damp, stone walls. Her sharp gaze scanned every shadow, every crevice, every ripple of water with a predator's precision. A reflexive sigh escaped her lips, and with it came a fragile plume of icy mist that drifted lazily over the moat, evaporating into the oppressive humidity of the dungeon air. It was an involuntary betrayal of her nature, a reminder of the icy tundra she called home—a world far removed from this suffocating maritime prison.

A sudden growl sliced through the heavy silence. "You're not going anywhere, IceWing," came the gruff voice of a SeaWing guard. He emerged from the shadows, his emerald scales catching the dim, phosphorescent glow of the eels below. His tail flicked with a restrained menace, the spines along its length bristling like the barbs of a predator ready to strike. His voice dripped with both disdain and authority, a harsh counterpoint to Frost's calm.

His eyes—narrowed to slits—tracked her every move with unnerving precision. She could feel the weight of his gaze pressing down on her, as though he were daring her to test the limits of her confinement. His posture, coiled and deliberate, exuded the confidence of one who had spent years in this role, crushing the hopes of countless prisoners before her.

Yet, Frost did not flinch. Her pale blue eyes, glinting with the chill of glaciers, met his unyielding stare. Though her situation was dire, there was a quiet defiance in her stance—a faint shimmer of frost creeping along the stone beneath her claws, an almost imperceptible sign of rebellion against the oppressive heat and watchful eyes of the SeaWing guards.

Another SeaWing approached, his movements measured, though his expression was a curious mix of caution and faint amusement. His scales, a more subdued shade of azure, glimmered dully in the half-light as he eyed Frost with a wariness that didn't quite match the carefreeness of his words. "Kelp, don't provoke her," he warned, his voice carrying a subtle edge of concern. "She's an IceWing—who knows what kind of powers she might possess?"

Kelp, the greenish-blue SeaWing, laughed low and almost dismissively, the sound echoing slightly off the stone walls. His scales, bathed in the sickly glow of the dungeon, shimmered like water overlaid with moonlight, each movement of his body sending ripples of color dancing across the surfaces around him. His wings fluttered with a languid grace, and his posture was that of one who knew no fear. "Oh, relax, Seagrass," he said with an air of nonchalance, his voice a mixture of playful defiance and smugness. "This whole thing is ridiculous."

He flicked his tail with a casual elegance, his eyes flickering to Frost for only a moment before he spun on his heels, his words trailing behind him like a careless breeze. "She can't escape from here anyway. Let's go."

With that, Kelp made his way down the corridor, his every step a blend of confident assurance and cocky indifference. He moved through the dungeon as if it were a garden, his demeanor suggesting that the fortress's defences were as invincible as they were unworthy of his full attention. To him, Frost was little more than an annoyance, a passing obstacle to the ongoing routine of his duties.

Behind him, Seagrass hesitated, casting one final, wary glance over his shoulder at Frost. His brow furrowed ever so slightly, the weight of his caution clashing with Kelp's flippant dismissal. There was something about Frost's quiet composure, her unyielding presence, that made the seasoned guard uneasy. But duty prevailed, and with a final reluctant glance, Seagrass followed Kelp into the depths of the dungeon, his steps heavier than they had been moments before.

For now, Frost remained locked in her cold cage, but the faintest sense of doubt had begun to settle in the heart of the SeaWing guards.