KamiKowa: That Time I Got Transmigrated With A Broken Goddess Chapter 130: [130] The Stolen Spring

"Is the pain worse?" Margot asked, mistaking Calypso’s scowl for physical discomfort.

"No, I’m just dreading tomorrow’s lunch. Duke Haverford is fifty if he’s a day, and his breath slls like pickled herring if Selene is right."

Margot laughed softly. "He’s only thirty-five, and I’ve heard he’s quite handso."

"Handso or hideous, I’m not interested." Calypso turned from the window. "How much longer can we reasonably delay without causing political problems?"

"Not much longer. Your uncle is losing patience. The alliance with House Haverford would secure additional guards for the southern passes."

Calypso flopped dramatically onto her bed, spreading her arms wide. "Politics. Even in a narrative gate, I can’t escape them."

Margot settled beside her, tucking her legs beneath her. "Rembering this is just our rendition of a story is... disturbing."

"Isn’t it?" Calypso rolled onto her side to face Margot. "But it also ans there’s a way out. Stories have endings. We just need to reach ours."

"By finding the Heart of Winter," Margot said.

"Exactly." Calypso sat up, excitent returning. "And I think I might know what it is. What if the Heart of Winter isn’t a magical artifact they’re guarding, but sothing—or soone—they took? Its absence is what’s freezing this world."

Margot’s brow furrowed. "Like in the old myths? The Stolen Spring?"

"Yes! Exactly like that." Calypso bounced slightly on the bed. "In my... in Greece, we have a similar story. A goddess of spring was taken to the underworld, and her mother’s grief caused winter to cover the earth."

"So you think soone was taken by the Winter Court, and that’s why Frostfall is locked in eternal winter?"

"It makes sense, doesn’t it? The Heart of Winter could be whatever—or whoever—was stolen."

Margot nodded slowly. "The old temple archives might have information about this. They keep records going back centuries."

"Perfect!" Calypso clapped her hands together. "We’ll go tomorrow!"

"Selene, the Duke?"

Calypso’s excitent dimd. "Right. The Duke." She chewed her lower lip, thinking. "What if I got suddenly ill during lunch? Not enough to cause concern about my health, just enough to cut the eting short?"

Margot raised an eyebrow. "You want to help you fake an illness?"

"Would you?" Calypso clasped her hands together in supplication. "Please? I’ll make it up to you."

"You’re terrible," Margot said, but her smile betrayed her amusent. "Fine. I’ll bring a special tea that can cause mild stomach discomfort. Nothing dangerous, but enough to excuse yourself."

"You’re the best!" Calypso threw her arms around Margot. "This is why I love you."

"Yeah, yeah," Margot said, patting Calypso’s back. "Now, you should try to sleep. Even with my healing, you need rest."

Calypso nodded, releasing her friend. "You’re right. And maybe soon we will have news from the north."

"You really think Xavier is coming here?"

"I know he is." Calypso touched her heart and felt the heat pool between her thighs. "I can feel him getting closer."

After Margot left, Calypso changed into her nightgown and slipped beneath the heavy covers of Lady Selene’s bed. The fire in the hearth had burned down to embers, casting the room in a dim orange glow and filling the air with the faint, comforting scent of woodsmoke. Outside, the snow continued its silent siege, muffling the world until the only sound was the whisper of her own breathing.

Her thoughts drifted north, to Xavier.

If he ca now, would I even have the courage to apologize for back then? Or would I just pretend I hadn’t been wrong?

Calypso pulled the covers higher, trying to banish the thought. She needed to focus on what she could control—finding information about the Heart of Winter and preparing for Xavier’s eventual arrival. If her theory was correct, they were dealing with a classic abduction narrative, which ant the solution involved a rescue.

But who had been taken? And by whom? The Winter Court was spoken of with fear throughout Heartho, but details were scarce. The temple archives might hold answers, if she could just get away from Duke Haverford long enough to search them.

Hurry, Xavier. I need you here. Not just to close the gate, but because...

She didn’t complete the thought as sleep claid her, but the truth lingered in her mind nonetheless. She missed him. Not as a tool for returning ho, not as her divine charge, but as Xavier—the infuriating, fascinating mortal who had sohow beco essential to her in ways she’d never anticipated.

In her dreams, she walked through endless snow, following a path that led north. Ahead, a figure waited at a crossroads, his back turned to her. When she called out, he began to turn, but before she could see his face, the dream shifted, and she found herself in a crystal palace, facing a throne made of ice. Upon it sat a figure wearing a crown of icicles, face hidden behind a mask of frost.

"You cannot have what I’ve taken," the figure said, voice like cracking ice. "The Heart of Winter belongs to now."

"What have you taken?" Calypso asked, her voice echoing strangely in the frozen hall.

The figure stood, towering over her. "Everything. And soon, even the Fla will go out."

Calypso woke with a gasp, sitting upright in bed. Dawn light filtered through the window, painting the room in pale gold. The fire had died completely overnight, leaving the chamber cold despite the building’s volcanic heating.

She pressed a hand to her chest, her heart hamring against her palm. The dream hadn’t been an ordinary flight of fancy. It carried the resonant hum of prophecy she recognized from her divine past—glimpses of truth bleeding through the veil of reality.

The Heart of Winter. The Fla. The figure on the throne.

She needed to get to those archives, Duke Haverford be damned.

Throwing back the covers, Calypso swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. Her headache had returned, stronger than before, pulling her attention northward with renewed insistence.

Xavier’s getting closer.

The thought brought both relief and anxiety. When they reunited, what would she find? The sa Xavier she’d left behind, or soone changed by this world and whatever he’d experienced in it?

And more importantly, would he have figured out what she had about the Heart of Winter? Or would she get to enjoy the rare pleasure of being the clever one for once?

A small, petty part of her hoped for the latter. Even goddesses had their pride, after all.