Damn him. Argossa itself, just damn him. The way Kazelia feels is that she wants to ram her spear into him and twist it, filling him so deeply with fire that there's nothing left of him. Rage burns in her heart that he would do this. Bereft of his daughters, his magic (she saw him change the subject), and his armies, he'd simply take everything with him. What would it gain him to turn Argossa to ice? Another vibrant world turned to cold and stillness. He wouldn't even have anyone left to boast about it to, it was doubtful Cassian would even survive the loss of Argossa if he were on it. Honestly, she's not even sure Oberon himself would survive it. If he can't shapeshift, there's a good chance that some of the essence of Argossa has influenced him and he'd be signing his own death warrant in the process of corrupting it. 

Damn bitter, spiteful old man. 

Kazelia doesn't fly at him in a rage though. She gathers herself, hands together behind her back, posture stiff and upright like she's inspecting a battalion instead of a horde of Garthim. If she wastes her chance now, with no friends around, no other princesses at all, and surrounded as she is by Garthim and Oberon's full attention, she'll simply squander the opportunity. She has to stall and gather information. Her friends will come, there will be a moment, she's confident. That's the blessing of Hyperborea, that they [i]will[/i] come and she won't have to be alone. 

"Why do you even want all this?" she asks him, trying to pass the time. "You can't stand the games they play here, you're cut off from Mother. Does it bring you such pleasure simply to wreck and ruin?"