Page 17 of The Yuletide Fairy's Curse
In the bed, Kolfrosta’s steady breathing continued. Dalla did not know what time it was, but Kolfrosta slept in quite late yesterday; surely, she would do the same today. Dalla crouchedand crept back to the bed, fingers roving underneath the mattress. They found the box and pulled it forth.
She counted twelve baubles: one for each of her parents, herself, and the nine siblings who came before her. Where the baubles on the tree in the main hall flashed with memories, the ones here swirled like little planets. They were heavier than Dalla expected. She touched one, expecting to glean which was Fonn’s, but getting not even a glimpse of a memory from them. This was a much stronger magic than she was used to.
She would have to break one and hope for the best. She reached in, palmed a bauble, and lifted it over her head.
“What are you doing?” Kolfrosta demanded.
Dalla stilled. She nearly dropped the bauble.
Kolfrosta sat up in the bed. Rage contorted her beautiful features. “You—you’re—I should have known. I should have…”
“Wait,” said Dalla. “Listen to me. You have my family trapped here, don’t you? You keep them in servitude. These are their stolen memories.”
“It is a better fate than they deserve,” Kolfrosta spat. “Kinder than death.”
“They deserve it, yes,” said Dalla, licking her lips. Somehow, being here without her memories seemed a worse fate than death, and that made her afraid, truly afraid, for the first time since her arrival. “But not my sister, Fonn.”
Kolfrosta’s gaze latched onto the bauble in Dalla’s hand. Dalla replaced it quickly in the box. Swore to herself. This could fuck up everything. All her work in preparing for this visit to protect her brothers.
Kolfrosta would understand, Dalla thought. She just needed to see Dalla’s perspective.
“If you could tell me which of these belongs to Fonn, I will restore her memories and take her back with me.”
“Why would I do that?” Kolfrosta asked. A chill crept into the room.
“Because she hasn’t done anything wrong. At worst, she is as unaware as I am. Both of us grew up so distant from our parents. We were not taught the same cruelty my older siblings were.”
Kolfrosta laughed, bitter and cold. “I suppose you are as naïve as you claim. I have her memories. Don’t you think I know how she was raised and the things she has done?”
Dalla was quiet. Surely, if Kolfrosta could see Fonn’s memories, she would understand why Dalla sought to free her?
“You don’t know anything, Dalla,” said Kolfrosta. “Your sister worked with Puck like the rest of them. Her memories are unkind. Fonn kicked people in the street for not showing deference and used her power to hurt others. I can show you every one of her terrible memories.”
Dalla had never seen Fonn act like this, could not picture it. “You’re lying.”
“I am not lying,” Kolfrosta said. “But you were, when you said you would prove yourself to me. All you have proven is that I am foolish for trusting you.”
“You’re misunderstanding me,” Dalla said, feeling the situation spiral out of her control. “Fonn is kind. Maybe sometimes…” She tried to think of a single time Fonn had been anything other than perfect and came up empty. “Sometimes, we all fail to do good.”
“You misunderstandme,” said Kolfrosta. “Fonn may have been a good sister. But power got to her head as a queen, as it did for your other siblings. For you not to know this is a testament to how sheltered you made yourself.”
Dalla crumpled to the ground, deflated. “I can’t see her like that.” But it was possible, of course, wasn’t it? That Fonn had been a cruel ruler, and she did not show that side of herself to Dalla.
“You weren’t like them,” said Kolfrosta angrily. “You were the one who showed me kindness all those years ago despite me havingkidnappedyou. Ten years later, you showed me that power does not change who you are at the core. It does not corrupt your mind the way it has so many humans before you.”
“I’m so sorry,” Dalla said. “Fonn made me chocolate with peppermint. I thought…”
“It doesn’t matter,” Kolfrosta said. She slid her cloak over her shoulders and tied it tightly around her waist. Her skin was so bright, it was difficult to look directly at her—mirroring the high, burning sun that now swelled through the clouds and flooded past the room’s curtains.
Dalla looked away. “Puck will be here soon. I should go.”
“You will not,” Kolfrosta asserted. “You were going to free someone who is living a comfortable life here without a memory of the miserable tyrant they were. She’s someone who has hurt people, and I’ve given her the best life I can. I don’t know what other mistakes you may make in my absence, but this one is large enough to give me second thoughts.”
“No,” breathed Dalla. “Please don’t.”
“Come here,” Kolfrosta said. “Let us get this over with. It will be painless. You will be happy here.”
“You promised to let me go back,” Dalla said, knowing she wasn’t being fair.
