Page 44 of This Frozen Heart

Chapter Twenty-Three

Kay

The woman wearing gray furs finally comes to fetch me. “The Queen requests your presence.”

Unlike the woman in black furs, this one shows no sign of the frustration swirling within us all. Her face is perfectly placid, an imitation of our icy queen.

Turning from my new quarters, I follow my new guide without a word.

She leads me to a twining ice staircase that requires a firm grip on the railing to keep from slipping right off. I’ve come too far to stumble now. Not when I already sacrificed everything that I did to reach this position for Gerta’s sake. The fool girl likely thinks she got the best of me, but here I am, climbing higher than ever before.

We reach the top and then the woman in gray leads me to an ice wall that is so thick it is not translucent. Its ice-block door is open.

“Enter,” the Queen calls, “and close the door behind you.”

Leaving behind my guide, I do as my Queen commands.

The Queen’s quarters are cooler than the rest of the castle, and I see my breath as I push the thick door closed.

My focus quickly turns to where it properly belongs, though, when I see the Snow Queen sitting on a smaller version of herthrone on the other side of a horizontally positioned rectangular glass table. A smaller ice chair is settled across from hers.

The Snow Queen gestures toward the chair. “Sit.”

I obey, never taking my eyes off her.

Nor does she look away from me. “You aren’t wearing any of the clothing I provided for you. Are they not up to your standards?”

Glancing down at my dirty uniform, I smooth out the wrinkles the best I can. “I apologize, but I received your summoning just as I found my chambers. I did not wish to waste your time.”

“Hmm.” It is hard to tell if the Snow Queen is pleased with my response or not as she folds her hands together and presses them to her chin. “Well, my little toy soldier, tell me something about yourself. Impress me with your clever conversational skills. I cannot stomach the thought of being wed to a bore even if his face is pretty.”

Not feeling a single thing thanks to my frozen heart, I lean forward. “I am just a humble son of Gaelia, raised in Constantinium; my story is so dull I fear it would make you think I was a bore compared to your splendor.” I sit upright again, my preferred posture even though it makes my heart throb more to maintain it. “Tell me— if you are benevolent enough— ofyourself, dear Queen.”

The Snow Queen shifts, and I catch a twitch of her lips. “It is true that my story is long and vibrant, though it is painted in shades of blue. I am afraid it is beyond the mortal comprehension.”

“So, you are not a mortal?”

“I was born a mortal but am no longer.” Darkness flashes across her pale visage.

She must be an estrie then. Somehow, those creatures are both dead and immortal. They come into existence after having their hearts carved out and survive on human blood. Butsometimes, losing their hearts gives them power over mortal hearts, so that would explain the Snow Queen’s ability to freeze mine. Even my Healer Bloodline Magic cannot combat the dark poison of an estrie.

If she is an estrie, that would also explain the Snow Queen’s pallor and desire to remain apart from civilization since estries are condemned on sight. The ice magic itself would be part of Bloodline Magic, residual from when she was still mortal.

As an officer of Constantinium, it is my duty to extinguish every estrie I see, with the exception of the Shadow of the Emperor. However, I have sworn a new fealty, and there are new rules I must abide by.

A new strategy is also demanded. “Your beauty certainly doesn’t belong to a mere mortal.”

The darkness fades away, and the Snow Queen purses her lips together. “Do you think flattery is what will set you apart from the tongue-tied men who came before you?”

“Of course not. I simply desire to learn more about you. Your legends intrigue my mind as much as your beauty overwhelms my soul.”

The Snow Queen bestows me with a wintry smile, and I realize my tone was far from warm. Not that it was ever my most welcoming trait, but now that my heart is ice and life is miserable, I haven’t even the energy to mask that.

Shifting strategies, I gesture around us. “Why did you build this palace? Itwasyou who constructed it, was it not?”

The Snow Queen’s expression smooths out, and she turns to inspect her handiwork. “Yes, it was me, many years ago. I needed a home worthy of my heritage, one that would be far from everyone except those who understood my pain. Those who could feel sympathy and be free of the cares beyond these walls as well. This is my home, and all of you are my family.”

“Family?”

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