Page 49 of This Frozen Heart

Around us, the Snow Queen’s haunting music begins to play, and then we all move toward the middle.

I hold up my hands to meet those of the woman across from me. The woman who, upon closer inspection, has an all-too familiar messy golden braid hanging over her shoulder. It doesn’t seem to fit with the white fur draped over the lightest blue gown in the ballroom.

Anger kindles anew, driving out the numbness for a moment. It’s a relief, so I let myself draw closer to those dangerous flames of rage. “I told you to leave.”

“And I was going to.” Gerta synchronizes with my steps as our hands press together. “However, my clan kindly informed me that we did not climb this mountain to just to give up after one conversation.”

I frown. “Your entire rebel cell is here?” I glance around the ballroom as we turn to walk parallel to each other, leading the line. However, I do not see anyone other than the Snow Queen and her servants.

Gerta turns to me, and I see her confused frown in my peripheral vison. “You nearly ran down Biggs.”

“I don’t recall seeing him.”

She misses a step, and I stumble with her before quickly righting us both.

“It isn’t like you to miss details,” she whispers. “Let alone what’s right in front of you.”

I purse my lips and don’t answer, because she’s correct asmuch as I despise agreeing with her.

“Mayhap the Snow Queen’s curse affects more than just your heart.” Gerta gives me a pointed look.

Looking past her, I fight the indifference clouding my thoughts to do a better scan of the room. And immediately notice that the man beside me on the line is not, in fact, my new bunkmate. Instead, the largest member of Gerta’s merry band dances stiffly next to me, his stolen clothing much too small for his colossal frame.

The dance demands that our lines turn to face each other. Gerta nearly stumbles as she hurries to catch up.

I have no sympathy for her, though. “What is this about?”

“It’s like you said.” She flashes me a challenging smirk. “I didn’t get my kiss.”

The other maidens twirl away from the line of men, and Gerta follows suit.

I stiffly wait with my hand outstretched like the other men, even Smalls, who is a step behind us as well.

When Gerta returns, placing her hand on mine, I pull her close, like the dance demands.

“Nor shall you,” I hiss under my breath, “for I am to be betrothed to the Snow Queen.”

Gerta’s gaze locks with mine, not backing down despite how flustered she was earlier. “You wouldn’t be if you were betrothed tomefirst. A kiss would secure that, per your words to me before you were taken. Honoring that promise would protect you from the Snow Queen.”

“No, it wouldn’t.” I keep my grip on Gerta as I’m the one to spin her away this time. “There would be no binding law uniting us, only my own rule that one care about but myself.”

When I pull her back against me, Gerta stares up at me with an earnest gaze. “I care.”

Those two words, which I did not realize I so desperately longed to hear her say, halt me inmy tracks.

It takes several moments before I realize there is anything else beyond the urgency on Gerta’s upturned face, the warmth of her hand in mine, and the strange throbbing in my chest. Almost as if my heart is . . .thawing.

But then the screaming becomes impossible to ignore.

As the other dancers halt their own movements, I lift my gaze to the source of the sound.

The Snow Queen is standing on her balcony, but she has backed to the opposite side from the man who has stepped onto it with her. Her focus is entirely locked on him as her startled screams echo in her ice palace.

I stare at the man in surprise for a moment. It’s Prince, the man I deemed as the most insignificant threat to concern myself from Gerta’s merry band. The Snow Queen evidently thinks otherwise.

Remembering myself, I pull away from Gerta and step toward the balcony.

Strong hands grasp my hands and pin them behind my back. “Prince is doing a better job at causing a distraction than I gave him credit for,” Smalls says.

---