Yeva began each morning that winter by chopping wood. Rising at four, before the sun brought any warmth, she went outside with her axe and reduced the logs to smaller, more manageable pieces.
Her sister Rozie yelled from the back door, "Yeva! Good morning!"
Upon finding Rozie not yet dressed, and her round cheeks pinkened by the cold, Yeva put the axe down and replied, "Rozie! Get dressed before you come out! It's freezing!"
"But Yeva—" Rozie tossed back her head of straw-blonde hair, collapsing onto her knees. "It's cold anyway."
Yeva went in to keep Rozie from coming out and scolded her while scooping her up. Kissing her bright face, she carried her back to her room where the stove continued to burn, and bade her to dress as she absconded to prepare breakfast.
Yeva, tall and lean, was the sort of woman who ate twelve eggs each morning and an entire loaf of bread for lunch. After cooking for Rozie and seeing her to school, she either spent the morning building furniture or bringing the pieces she had already made to those who had ordered them.
Sometimes she would receive commissions from the city nearby, meeting with pale aristocrats that summoned her by letter, signed and sealed in gold. They would see Yeva, or perhaps their servants would, and without fail, give her a look.
Brows bent, they scrutinized her mass of dark golden hair to her tall, muscular legs fitted into brown boots. They studied her form when, more often than not, she didn't bother hiding it beneath a dress, showing up instead in overalls with a winter coat. Regardless of these looks, she shook their soft, snow-white hands. They tended to widen their eyes at the strength of her grasp before moving on to furniture.
That Saturday, Yeva took Rozie into the city, piling handsome chairs into their cart to display. Their black horse, Ivan, brought them to the center of town, where Yeva stood, sipping from a hot mug of coffee. Rozie, meanwhile, preached the virtue of Yeva's work to anyone who wandered near enough. In a loud and high-pitched voice, she announced, "Excuse me! Do you need new furniture? My sister makes the best chairs and tables ever, and she can do any size and any pattern!"
Having this strange child holler at them caused the people to laugh. Yeva watched as excellently dressed men and women covered their mouths with refined hands. Their faces turned as pink as Rozie's cheeks. Usually following her, they would greet Yeva, perhaps comment on how cute Rozie was, and observe the perfectly symmetrical lines she had constructed, the coat of clean polish over the wood, or the patterns painstakingly carved into the tops of chairs or the surface of a table. They might not buy anything, but they would remember.
When Rozie tired of hollering, she pulled on her sister's sleeve to ask for money. "Yeva! Can I have some silver, please?" Driving her boots into the snow, she hung onto Yeva's arm and dangled, swinging back and forth on her heels. At that point, her face became so pink, and her hair so perfectly disheveled, that no mortal could resist her. Bits of straw came to interrupt her enormous eyes as she yanked Yeva's coat off kilter, whispering, "Pleeeease?"
"Rozie, what do you need money for? You're eight."
"But Yeva! You said you would let me buy a chocolate roll, and we've been out here all day and I was good all week!" She sank into the snow, hiding Yeva's hand by drawing out her sleeve.
"It's only been an hour."
"But I did all of my homework and you promised. Don't you want one too?"
"Let go of my sleeve, Rozie. I can't reach into my pocket otherwise."
"Yay!" Rozie fell into the snow and created a powdery haze. Giggling, she rolled around in it, causing people across the street to laugh.
She sprang up, however, when Yeva produced two silver coins, took them, and dashed to the baker's, kicking up a mild avalanche in time with her labored breaths.
"Two chocolate rolls!" Yeva called, "and nothing else!"
Rozie didn't answer. She was too busy driving the snow from the street.
Yeva would watch her and catch the ice sculpture the townspeople would leave out on the first day of winter. They had set the Snow Queen in alignment with her alleged castle in the distance, if observed at a certain angle, on a cloudy day. No matter how many times Yeva looked, she had never found it.
Given the unkind temperatures all winter, the Queen never altered much. Some days, she might have gained a layer of snow around her shoulders and at the bottom of her skirts, as if she wore the fur of an arctic fox. The details of her attire stayed intact—the icy jewels adorning her crown, and the delicate snowflake-like lace of her gown.
When she had melted completely, the townspeople would hold a festival in celebration that the winter truly had ended. Yeva and Rozie usually went together. While the temperature was still nippy, the air didn't carry the deep freeze capable of infiltrating bone marrow. The people would joke that the Snow Queen had run away, like they would joke she was angry on bitter days.
On her way back with whatever she wanted, Rozie stopped to look at her too. Clutching the paper bag, she gaped into the Snow Queen's face before running to Yeva.
Rozie returned with the chocolate rolls and crashed into the snow at Yeva's feet. She didn't say anything, but inflated, eyes wide open as she unintentionally scrunched her neck and made numerous rolls. Yeva laughed but Rozie spoke seriously.
"Did you know," she began, "that my birthday is soon?"
"Yes, I know."
Rozie paused, exhaling loudly. "I know what I want."
"Okay," Yeva said.
"There's a pink rabbit in the shop window over there and she's so cute and pretty and I'll show you—"
"Show me when we're about to leave."
Rozie had pulled herself out of the snow by a few inches but fell back down.
"Get up. You're going to get cold."
"You'll get it for me, right, Yeva?" She seemed to sink further into the ground.
"I'll consider it if you stand up."
Rozie sat but didn't stand, looking up at her older sister as the rolls fell onto her lap. Yeva offered her hand, which Rozie took and came to her feet. "I stood up," she said.
"I saw," Yeva replied.
Once the day had ended and Yeva had packed up her cart with the remaining furniture, Rozie took her to the toy store. She ran ahead by several feet and kicked up a snow storm in the process, coming to a violent stop before the window, directly in front of a fluffy, pink rabbit.
The poor thing was composed of so much fluff and so much pink that she embodied the essence of cotton candy. Two enormous black button eyes made indents in her sugary fur, and two fat pink ears sprouted from the top of her head. Like a true princess, she dressed tastefully in a red polka dotted gown, a plump bow around her neck. As if to take a better look at the rouge carefully applied to her cheeks, Rozie had placed her face against the glass, meeting her price tag of ten silver coins.
"Isn't she beautiful?" Her breath fogged up the barrier between her and the rabbit. She imparted her story into the window, "When we were standing over there, I picked out a name for her. She's going to be Lady Felicity and she's in love with Dr. Spots."
Dr. Spots was Rozie's aging calico doll. Yeva had constructed wire glasses for him, so he could better assist his patients, who always gave their friends glowing reviews.
Yeva pulled her away and, with her sleeve, cleaned the smudges Rozie had left. "I can see why you like her."
"Well?" Her eyes were as glossy as the rabbit's.
"'Well?' I'm considering it. Let's head home."
Rozie lingered before following, puffing up with a sigh she slowly released. Yeva felt her inflate again as she set her in the cart, taking an adjacent spot. One of her plump cheeks fell onto Yeva's arm and Ivan began walking amongst the start of a light snowfall.
"Patience," Yeva told her. "You would have to wait for your birthday anyway."
"But I love her now," Rozie said, her sister wrapping an arm around her for the journey home.