Page 32 of Trapped with the Ice Queen

Sliding carefully from the bed, Alex moved with practiced stealth, keenly aware of the groan of the old wooden floorboards beneath her weight. The morning chill bit at her skin, but she welcomed it. Pulling on her boots and jacket, she stepped outside to face the aftermath.

The world was transformed.

Snow lay thick and untouched, a pristine blanket that muted everything. The horizon stretched endlessly, the jagged peaks of the Rockies softened beneath layers of white. The storm clouds were breaking apart, fragments drifting lazily across an impossibly blue sky. Alex took a deep breath, the icy air burning her lungs in the best way.

She stared out at the landscape, her jaw tightening against the sudden rush of thoughts. How long could this last?

Her life had always been predictable in its simplicity: hard work, solitude, the occasional visitor who left as quickly as they came. Vivienne didn’t fit into that world, and Alex wasn’t sure she wanted herto. Wanting Vivienne meant wanting change, and change meant risking everything she’d spent years building.

The snow crunched beneath her boots as she walked toward the shed, where her tools and supplies were stored. Opening the door, she grabbed a hatchet and began splitting some firewood. Each strike of the blade into the wood was a release, the rhythmic motion grounding her as her thoughts threatened to spiral.

What if Vivienne went back to her refined world of fashion and regretted everything they’d shared? What if Alex was left behind, holding on to memories that were never meant to last?

The sharp crack of the splitting log echoed in the stillness, cutting through her growing unease. Alex leaned on the hatchet, her breath visible in the cold morning air. Maybe she was overthinking this. Maybe she should just let herself enjoy it while it lasted. Not everything had to last forever.

A flicker of movement in the cabin window caught her eye, and she turned to see Vivienne watching her. Even from adistance, she could feel the weight of Vivienne’s gaze, as if the cabin walls weren’t there at all.

Alex hesitated, caught in the strange pull between retreat and return. She buried her hands in her pockets, grounding herself in the rough wool of her gloves. One more breath. One more moment.

When she finally stepped back inside, Vivienne was sitting at the edge of the bed, the quilt draped loosely around her shoulders. Her expression was unreadable, though her lips curved slightly in a way that might have been a smile.

“Good morning,” Vivienne said, her voice soft and still touched with sleep.

“Morning.” Alex cleared her throat, brushing snow from her jacket before hanging it near the fire. “Storm’s eased up. Looks like we’ll have some sun today.”

Vivienne nodded, her gaze lingering on Alex for a moment longer before shifting to the fire. “That’s good. I wasn’t sure it ever would.”

Alex busied herself with rekindling the fire, but she could feel Vivienne’s presence in the room like a live wire.As the flames caught, fire crackling to life, she glanced over her shoulder.

“You okay?” Alex asked.

Vivienne’s eyes flicked to hers, something uncertain but warm in their depths. “I think so,” she said. Then, after a pause: “Thank you…for last night.”

Alex swallowed hard, the weight of Vivienne’s words pressing against her chest. “Yeah,” she said, her voice low. “Thank you too.”

Vivienne shifted on the bed, pulling the quilt tighter around her. “You know, it’s strange,” she said, her tone contemplative. “All my life, I’ve spent Christmases in these perfectly curated settings—decorated trees, lavish dinners, everything staged for the perfect photo. But it never felt like this.”

Alex turned, leaning against the hearth. “Like what?”

Vivienne met her gaze, her expression open, almost raw. “Real.”

Alex didn’t respond right away. The word hung between them, heavy with meaning. Finally, she nodded, her lips curving into a small, wry smile. “Yeah. I get that.”

For a fleeting moment, Alex let herselfbelieve this quiet, sunlit morning could stretch on forever.

After their shared breakfast, Alex stood at the kitchen counter, sharpening her knife with slow, methodical strokes. The sound of metal gliding against the whetstone was oddly soothing, a rhythm that helped steady her thoughts. Beside her, Vivienne sat at the table, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of tea.

The cabin was quieter now, the storm’s departure leaving behind a stillness that felt both serene and disquieting. Outside, the snow sparkled beneath the pale winter sun, its untouched surface so bright it almost hurt to look at.

Vivienne broke the silence first. “It’s strange, isn’t it? How quiet it gets after a storm like that.”

Alex nodded without looking up. “Yeah. Like the world’s holding its breath.”

Vivienne sipped her tea, her gaze drifting to the window. “I suppose I should feel relieved, knowing the worstis over.” She paused, her fingers tightening around the mug. “But I don’t.”

That made Alex glance up, her brow furrowing. “Why not?”

Vivienne hesitated, as if weighing how much of herself she was willing to reveal. “Because the storm made everything...simple. Survive or don’t. Now that it’s over, I have to think about what comes next.” She gave a rueful smile. “And I’m not sure I’m ready for that.”

---