Page 13 of Gifted to the Frost King

“There are forces at work here—ones beyond my control.”

“How is that possible?” I ask. “You are the Frost King—you rule over all. You caused the blight on our land.”

His chuckle lacks all warmth.

“Whoever made you believe that is a fool. In time, you will learn just how little power I have.”

Anger rises within me.

“I don’t have time for all this—I need to return to my family,” I snap.

His eyes flare, but his mouth remains closed. Anger has not aided me in gaining my freedom. It could be wise to try a different approach. Reluctantly, I gentle my tone.

“Please,” I say. “Let me go. My mother and sister—they won’t survive without me.”

Again, another heated emotion flashes in his gaze. His jaw tightens.

“Please,” I say again, moisture stinging my eyes. I will myself not cry. Tears solve nothing.

“Your family has been taken care of.”

Ice floods my veins, and my stomach turns.

“What does that mean?”

Instead of answering, the Frost King raises his hand. I gasp as ice swirls around his open palm. A fresh pile of snow glimmers as he shapes it into a perfectly round ball. The scent of metal dances in the air as he rolls the snowball towards me. It leaves behind a wet trail on the table.

“See for yourself.” He nods towards the tightly packed snow.

Lifting it, I feel the snow hum with power. Cold kisses the tips of my fingers as I examine it. The ball's surface swirls into a hazy blue mist. My heart pounds in my chest. It takes a moment for it to focus, and then fresh tears spring to my eyes when it does.

It is our cottage. Only it has been significantly repaired. The wood flooring and walls are new. The kitchen table glitters from the light of a roaring fire. Atop it is stacked all manner of food and desserts. Mama is in her usual spot, wearing a new green wool gown. Sophia is also in a new dress—the dark brown fabric matches her hair. There is a place set for me even as no food is ladled onto it. Both Mama and Sophia share a smile, even if their eyes are sad. At least they aren’t starving—far from it.

In an instant, the vision is lost, and the white surface of the snowball remains still.

“My magic will keep them safe.” The King’s low voice reaches me. “They won’t go hungry as long as you’re here. You have my word.”

I eye him warily as the snowball begins to melt through my fingers. It falls to the table with a wet slap.

“How can I trust you’re telling the truth? How can I believe what I saw was real and not some foul trick of your magic?”

The King’s blue eyes narrow slightly before shaking his head.

“I cannot lie to you. It’s one of my many punishments.”

“Punishment for what?”

The Frost King waves a dismissive hand.

“I’m dangerously close to saying too much already.”

Rising from his chair, it scrapes against the tile floor. My heartbeat picks up as he rounds the table. He has removed his cape from earlier. He wears simple wool pants and a linen shirt with silver threading—his crown sparkles atop his head. The open collar of his shirt peels back, and I glimpse the hard contours of his chest. The memory of those muscles pressing against me floods my mind and heat spreads up my neck.

I want to kick myself for such a reaction. The Frost King is why I’m trapped here—thinking about his muscles is not bringing me any closer to freedom.

He continues to prowl towards me, his eyes glowing with awareness.

“My magic won’t keep him away for long. Soon, there won’t be enough to keep him contained at all.”

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