Lockwren couldn't say she was used to kneeling before people. But the gaze of Queen Mabh of the Winter Court made it difficult to find the confidence to look at anything but the ground. Everything about her was a stunning shade of white so light it was almost blue. Her dress was an astonishing thing - rigid lines curved up from her collar bones, eminating from a dress as blue as midnight. The entire piece seemed to be made of single long pieces that stretched from the floor to above her head, held together by frost.

The designer certainly had a good eye.

“Who are you, fledgling? What are you doing here?” 

Even her voice cracked like strained ice. 

“My lady, my name is Lockwren. I have reason to believe that I come from your court, but was sent to humans’ realm when I was an infant. I’ve simply re-traced the steps left behind by the one that abandoned me to it, and who took the child of the one who raised me.” 

The queen chuckled. “Is that so? How… quaint. And what makes you think I care about that?” 

Lockwren winced. So much for the confidence she had built since she was a child. 

“I do not come for a visit, my lady. I come with an offer. I want to offer my services to you. And in exchange, let me learn about the place I should be calling home.” 

The guards around her stayed silent for a moment before breaking out into laughter. 

“You have a death wish, girl? Or does this somehow beat the nightly pleasing of young nobles who crave attention?” One of the guards sneered, reaching to her.

Lockwren groaned and stood, taking the guard who dared insult her so by his arm, bending it behind his back. “You assume much, for a guard who cannot protect even himself.” 

She glanced at the queen, seemingly amused. “Let go of my guard, fledgling. I have ideas for your… rehabilitation.” 

Lockwren let go of the excuse for a guard, smoothening the wrinkles out of her dress. She had paid good gold for that.

“You seem to know how to protect yourself. You know much of the human realm. You have the spark of the sun and the bite of ice in your heart. I will give you what you ask for. You will be in my service, in exchange for information about your heritage. If you can handle my test. Now, take my hand”.

Lockwren blinked. This felt too easy, too obvious. But she had come too far to question her new queens’ motives. Lockwren took Queen Mabh’s hand. 

Instantly, she was blinded by a sharp, icy pain that shot up her arm and into her very soul. The beautiful one in front of her was now a dark, twisted figure with glowing blue eyes, tendrils of dark power rushing around her, up Lockwrens arm, into her eyes.

Then, the pain subsided into something dark, sweet, something that felt forbidden. 

Magic. 

When she opened her eyes, she found herself in a rather small cage, with the queens’ crest on her arm, and the rush of magic coursing through her veins. Lockwren sat, only to find herself in a pile of what seemed to be bones. 

“Welcome to your test, fledgling. Good luck.”