Page 20 of Jilted By Jack Frost

A group of frost pixies dart between the crystal blooms, leaving trails of sparkling dust in their wake.

The sight of her there—draped in winter blues and whites, fur trim framing her shoulders like fresh snow—makes my chest ache.

She looks like she stepped out of an ancient painting of our realm's golden age, when winter Ladies still ruled beside their Lords. I clench my fist, frost coating my knuckles. Such thoughts are a luxury I cannot afford, no matter how the silver accents of her gown mirror the starlight above.

"The gardens have existed since the beginning of the realm."Since before I was cursed with this crown."The pixies tend to them."

One particularly bold pixie zooms up to Violet’s face, its tiny features scrunched in curiosity. To my surprise, Violet doesn’t flinch. She laughs instead, the sound warming something deep in my chest that I thought long frozen.

“They’re beautiful,” she whispers, watching as the pixie rejoins its companions.

I lead her deeper into the gardens, past the singing ice fountains where water flows upward in defiance of gravity, frozen in mid-arc. An aurora serpent glides overhead, its ethereal body rippling with colors that paint the snow beneath us.

“Jack, this is...” Violet’s voice trails off as she spins slowly, taking in the otherworldly beauty of my realm. For a moment, I see it through her eyes—not as the prison it’s become, but as the magicalplace it truly is.

“There’s more,” I find myself saying.I should stop this. Distance is safer.But I can’t seem to halt the words. “Would you like to see the Crystal Falls?”

Her eyes light up at my offer, and something warm shifts in my chest.This is dangerous.Yet I can’t bring myself to retract the invitation.

“Lead on, Lord Frost.” She gestures ahead with an exaggerated bow, but her smile holds genuine warmth.

“The Crystal Falls lie beyond the castle grounds,” I say, extending my hand. “We’ll need to travel there directly.”

Violet eyes my outstretched palm suspiciously. “What, like teleporting?”

“Something like that.” I keep my voice neutral, though her skepticism amuses me. “It won’t feel like our attempt to cross realms. This is a simple displacement—like stepping through a doorway.”

She stares at my hand for a long moment before placing her warm palm against mine. The contact sends an unwelcome spark through my entire body.

“Just don’t let go,” I say as I draw her closer. The world blurs into crystalline fragments around us, reforming almost instantly. We materialize at the base of the Crystal Falls, and Violet staggers, her free hand clutching my jacket.

“Son of a bitch,” she breathes, steadying herself. Then she catches sight of the falls, and her grip on my jacket tightens. “Oh, my god.”

I release her hand, ignoring how empty my palm feels without her warmth. We’re far beyond the castle’s protective barriers now, but I tell myself the unease I feel is merely from the transportation.

The Crystal Falls cascade down from impossibly high cliffs, the water freezing mid-fall into intricate patterns before thawing again at the bottom. Rainbow lights dance through the ice formations, creating an ever-changing display.

But it’s not the falls that draw my attention. It’s the way Violet’s eyes track the movement of the water, her nurse’s mind clearly at work.

“The water here... it’s different.” She steps closer to the pool at the base. “The way it moves, it’s almost like—“

“Blood flow?”

She whirls to face me, surprise evident in her features. “You know about circulatory systems?”

I wave my hand, and a section of the falling water freezes into an intricate replica of human vasculature. “I’ve studied mortal anatomy extensively. It helps me understand how cold affects your kind.”

“This is incredible.” She moves around the ice formation, her fingers hovering just above the surface. “The branching patterns, the way the smaller vessels divide... it’s perfect.”

Stop. Step back. Don’t—

“I have something for you.” The words escape before I can catch them. I reach into my jacket and withdraw a leather-bound journal, its cover embossed with intertwining patterns of blood vessels and snowflakes. “I noticed you sketching anatomical diagrams in the margins of your research notes.”

Violet takes the journal with trembling hands. When she opens it, her breath catches. Each page contains detailed illustrations of human anatomy rendered in frost, the diagrams shifting and flowing like living things.

“You can add your own observations. The frost will respond to your touch.”Why am I giving her this? Why am I letting her closer?

Her fingers trace one pattern, and the frost swirls beneath her touch, reforming into a new configuration. A smile breaks across her face, bright enough to rival the auroras above us.

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