167 Freezer

The Queen of the Icelands and woman who should be in sickbed was actually completely fine. At least, her body was. Elegantly sitting in a high-back chair on her tea table, the blank look in her green eyes told the story of her deteriorating mind.

"Mother." Gently, Princess Helmina placed her hand on top of the Queen's free one, yet the latter didn't react. Her gaze was focused somewhere far away. Helmina felt the fingers beneath her tremble.

Despite this, the younger woman didn't give up. "How are you feeling today? The physician told me you are better. See, the demon you fear is long gone already. Soon, he will not even be in this world anymore."

Silence was the only answer, spreading its invisible tendrils in the warm air and resting on Helmina's head until she lowered it. Her fingernails were painted in a happy pink today, yet the color only managed to contrast to the Queen's dark skin more.

"I - I'm afraid I have to disappoint you once more. I need Emilian's help. I can't do it without him. You know what Ve promised in return, right? As long as we follow his orders, there will be a day when we can bring him back completely. Mother... I just do this to one day see his real smile again, not that of a puppet."

The Queen's face remained as bleak as her eyes. Helmina sighed. "I will go now. If the ministers are satisfied, we will be able to build up the army we need. Ve said, he will make a breakthrough in his research when he can experiment on Falumor's magicians. I already left every mage of my uncle's entourage with him. Hopefully, they will help him understand how death works. Then he will finally be able to be reborn."

Helmina's frilly dress ruffled, when she stood up and walked to the door. Yet, just when she reached it, she heard the Queen's voice croak behind her. After days of silence, the Queen sounded even older than her real age, and fragile like a stick on the ground. "The dead never truly rise again. Give it up. Nobody can revive him."

Helmina's fingers clutched the doorknob as slender, long claws. Her caramel skin whitened with the force she used. "Is this the advice you give me, mother? To give up on the person closest to my heart when I would burn cities, countries, and even the world to bring him back? This is your advice?"

But the Queen didn't answer. It seemed as if she had fallen back into whatever trance she had been in before. A single tear drop rolled down Helmina's cheek when she looked back at her.

Deep down, she knew that she was one of the reasons for her mother's agony and that the woman only asked her to give up so the clinging to hope would not hurt her even more. Yet, however long he may be dead already, she could not give up on the second half of her soul. And the Icelands, it seemed, would also not accept the reign of a woman. So, she had to use him like a puppet again. There was just no other way.

Like a lonely faerie, the young woman walked the empty corridors of the palace. When the King left and the Falumor's remained, the palace had been in an uproar, but now it was as quiet as the dust that collected in the small wall niches where nobody ever looked. Not a bird or an insect sang the praises of the sun, and no servant's feet tapped on the marble floor.

Many rooms Helmina passed, caught in her melancholic thoughts. Finally, she stilled in front of the deepest part of the palace's dungeon. The slit between door and wall was covered in ice crystals and an unnatural cold oozed out from it. Helmina inserted a golden key into the lock and with a crackle of breaking ice, the door swung open.

Chilling air hit the dark-haired faerie and made her shiver. Yet, the view inside was something that would make anyone react even more strongly.

The grey stone beyond the door was covered in ice and snow. It was so cold that any water leaking inside would directly turn solid. The Princess' breath also turned to snow that softly floated to the ground. Yet inside that giant freezer, several people sat side by side on a wooden bank. Their faces were void of any emotion, quietly gazing at the entrance. A careful observer might notice that their breath didn't lead to a change in the air like Helmina's did. Or more like, they didn't even breathe at all.

Her eyes at the ground as if she couldn't bear the sight of them - or maybe it was just the sight of the skeleton resting against one of the walls that scared her - , Helmina called out in a trembling voice: "M-milo? I need your help again. Please come out, will you?"

She rubbed her arms, and after a second, called again: "Milo, come here! Please!"

Suddenly, the man furthest to the left, his black hair whitened by millions of tiny crystals, sucked in a deep breath. A strange grey fog seeped into his body through the air, and then a shudder went through him. With that tiny movement, he casted the icicles clinging to him off. They crashed into the ground like shackles falling off, setting him free. Strong legs lifted his tall figure up, and then his formerly stiff lips formed a smile. The smile though was as unnatural as his raspy voice when he answered his sister's summon. "Don't worry, Hel. I'm here for you."

.

The dinner later in the evening was quite an awkward event for Katherine. Not because the food was not good, or some unexpected variable entered the game. No, it was because of the way Nathaniel acted. Never in all the months she knew him had she seen him act so submissive and meek. It was even more surprising since they weren't alone in the dining hall.

The gazes of Nathaniel's family when he poured her wine, helped her fill her plate, and fulfilled every wish she uttered instantly, resembled those witnessing a miracle. Aston

even stopped eating altogether after spoiling his shirt with several food stains every time his fork dipped when his attention was on his brother. He couldn't be full yet, but it seemed that food wasn't his first priority anymore. He was grinning broadly. To his mother sitting next to him, him not finishing every plate he could get his hands on was another miracle.

"Do you want more potatoes? Or more roast venison?"

Katherine's face was already red beyond redemption, but the quiet voice of her husband ringing out next to her flustered her even more until her stomach was full of butterflies. Not caring for the opinion of his family, Nathaniel already reached out for the plate with roasted venison when Katherine's hand upon his arm stopped him. Silently pleading, she looked into his eyes. "Stop it please. This is so not like you."

Red is a wonderful color, Nathaniel confirmed again, as he saw the fluster of his wife. His arm sank down and a gentle smile entered his face that filled it with a warmth it hardly ever got. Laying his hand on hers, he said sincerely: "But I want to be like that for you. Pampering you feels unexpectedly good. Do you dislike it?"