**Rise—Hans Zimmer**
EMBER'S POV
Back at the Azure Witches Palace of Flames, when Ember was nine, she was assigned with cleaning the cold room.
An underground basement that was filled with ice boulders transported monthly all the way from Vaskor. The room was used to store expensive perishable goods and some rare magical artifacts that required that amount of icy cold temperature.
Of course it was so cold. So much she imagined days where she would die, trapped inside it, while the sheer amount of ice preserved her body.
Before entering the council room as she hovered at the hallways, hearing their argument, she felt the whisper of that same cold from her life ten years ago.
And now she entered it, the memory and feeling slammed against her with a force that threatened to steal her breath away. The room was cold—perhaps far colder than the Cold Room she once cleaned.
Everyone was charged—the king, both the high and low members of the council, but most importantly, the Queen.
