That morning, Yeva stood before the Snow Queen, offering a long, blonde braid within her fist. She had come to the throne, dressed in her new clothes with her hair shorn to a golden tuft.
"Snow Queen," Yeva began, "I appreciate your generosity, but you lied. To thank you, I'll give you my hair, but I demand you let me, and my horse, go."
The Snow Queen regarded her, setting a few fingers before her lips. "I'm surprised you were able to use the mirror." Tears like diamonds crashed to the floor, hard and perfect. "I intended on letting you go."
Yeva watched the Snow Queen as she gasped in quiet breaths, her features never clenching unpleasantly but remaining objective as the water falling from her eyes.
"I'm sorry, Yeva. It's been so long since I've spoken to anyone. No one dares come here, and it's terribly lonely. Now you've ruined your beautiful hair, and it's my fault."
"I forgive you, Snow Queen, but I need to leave."
She smoothed her elegant fingers over her cheeks, where the tears would have marked if they weren't frozen. Taking a final gasp, she waved her hand and Ivan appeared within the throne room, bearing the cart, the wrapped Lady Felicity, Yeva's old clothes, and several other gifts rife with glitter and bows.
"You may go," The Snow Queen opened the doors with a wave of her hand, and reclined into the throne as if sighing away her last molecule of air.
But before taking a seat, Yeva approached and set the braid upon her lap. "Thank you," she said, and turned to leave.
Yeva took Ivan by his new leather reins, imploring him to move. With a full cart, he took a slow start, through which Yeva glanced back at the Queen. She held the braid between her delicate fingers, admiring it, but with the guilt of coveting a stolen heirloom.
Their eyes met the last time as Yeva left the palace and the doors creaked shut behind her.
The way home was a straight shot downward from the palace, which sat atop a tall but not-too-steep hill. Ivan, well fed and rested, trotted easily along the path bordered by dark and frozen trees, and into the midst of the city, whose people gasped upon seeing Yeva.
She went too quickly to hear them birth rumors about who she had become. Eyes of both men and women latched on in her stead, nearly tearing the paper from the gifts like something caustic. She even managed to halt a few wealthy women in the streets, with husband or not, whose hearts failed. They stopped upon seeing her, gloved hands clasped over their chests.
Even before she pulled in to her own little town, before her own little house, people gathered outside to see her. "Yeva!" Some shouted, recognizing her despite the sharp outfit and short hair. She only pulled the reins to stop Ivan once outside their neighbor's house, whose familiar window showed Rozie heading outside.
Yeva started towards the door as Rozie flung it open, tripping through the snow and into her sister's embrace. Yeva had kneeled to pick her up, and Rozie held Yeva as tightly as she could, sobbing.
"I thought—" Her words hardly took form, warped and wet.
"I'm sorry, Rozie."
"I thought you died—!" She squeezed so hard, she nearly strangled Yeva, who kissed both her cheeks. "I thought—" she gasped. "I thought I'd have to live at the neighbor's house forever—" Calming, she wiped her eyes. "Why is your hair short? Where did you go?"
"It's a long story," Yeva's own voice failed, to which Rozie grasped her harder.
After thanking the neighbors and inventing an explanation, Yeva brought Ivan and Rozie home, where they turned on the stoves and unloaded the gifts. Rozie helped, making trips with boxes tucked beneath her arms aside from a few large enough to require both hands.
The last present in Ivan's cart, now uncovered beneath layers of treasure, was a box addressed to Yeva. Lightly shaking it, the container wrapped in sky blue paper didn't make noise, but felt dense. It carried a weight that translated to its perfectly wrapped corners and lack of festive bow.
Yeva took the gift and set it in her room, coming to find Rozie sitting amongst her presents in the salon. Dr. Spots was with her, who she held as she prepared her accusation. "Tell me what really happened," she said. "I don't think you'd buy me all of these presents, Yeva. That would be irresponsible."
Yeva nodded, and sat down in her arm chair. "You're right, Rozie. It would be irresponsible."
Rozie gasped, "I knew it," and held Dr. Spots tighter. "So what happened?"
Both stared at each other for a period. "Ivan threw me off the cart during a storm, and the Snow Queen saved my life."
Rozie stood out of disbelief, and after a few seconds, fell out of disbelief. "You met the Snow Queen?" she asked, and Yeva answered that she had. Rozie's eyes grew to the size of snow globes. She gasped as Yeva told her about the palace and its ballerinas, and of the Snow Queen who wouldn't let her go until she cut off her hair.
"Was she beautiful?" Rozie muttered in disbelief.
Yeva's face colored. "She was very beautiful."
"Wow…" Rozie whispered, before inflating with a thousand questions. Laying on the floor, she asked about the Snow Queen's height, and the size of her palace, and what the ballerinas looked like, what they were wearing, what the Snow Queen was wearing, about her shoes, and what type of tiara she had. Was it Christmas everyday? Did it snow inside the palace? Were there snow cats or snow puppies? Were the puppies nice? Why didn't Yeva bring one home?
"Rozie," Yeva interrupted. "I know it's a few days before your birthday, but would you like to open a few presents?"
"Presents!" Rozie shrieked and tore herself from the floor, the way a piece of balled up tissue would fall unceremoniously from a bathroom ceiling. "Which one can I open first, Yeva?" Her eyes were full of kicked-up glitter.
"Any but the one wrapped in red."
Rozie approached her tower of presents and took a box carefully from the top. Sitting back on the floor, she set her eyes on Yeva as she carefully removed the wrapping. "Will the Snow Queen be mad at me if I tear her fancy paper?"
"I don't think so. It's a present, after all."
Rozie tore the silver paper asunder, splitting it as lightning would tear the earth. From this chasm, she produced a box, and separated the lid to reveal a gold and silver wand with ribbon dangling from its star.
Rozie lifted it above her head to unlock ultimate power and unveil the secrets of the universe, but produced a shower of snowflakes. "Wow!" She pointed the wand toward Yeva and spat temporary glitter onto her shoes. "It's magic! I guess you really weren't making it all up!"
"Did you think I was lying?"
Rozie's face froze into an open-mouthed smile as her last bout of snowflakes dissipated. "Let's open more presents!"
Throughout the course of the afternoon, Rozie covered the main room in shredded silver paper as she discovered, along with her wand, a new grey cap, a fur coat dyed shades of pink lemonade, a frilly dress to be worn for special occasions, a crisp notebook to replace the soggy one left in the woods, story books sewn with golden thread, and her very own tiara. Just before she came to the last gift—Lady Felicity hidden in her striking red cocoon, Yeva stopped her.
"I want you to open that one on your actual birthday, Rozie."
"But, Yeva—" She grasped Lady Felicity by the ear through the paper. "I know what this one is."
"Well, it won't be such a suspenseful wait then, will it?" Yeva stood. "Let's clean up this paper, and I'll prepare dinner. Tomorrow you'll write a thank-you note to the Snow Queen."
"But how will she get it?"
"I'll see to it that she does."
Rozie looked for a moment through the wasteland of torn paper, spent ribbons, and on one side, the tower of gifts, which contained all but the wand clasped in her hand and the tiara on her head. "It was really nice of her to give me these things, but the statue in town always made her look scary."
"I didn't think she was scary."
Rozie fired a flurry of harmless glitter. "You weren't scared at all?"
"I was, but not because I thought she would hurt me." Yeva paused to pick up some paper. "I was worried I might not see you again." She had already accumulated a pile the size of a snowball. "The Snow Queen seems lonely, but not bad."
Rozie grasped her wand. "I'm glad she let you go, Yeva."
"Me too."
"Do you think I'll get to meet her one day?"
"Maybe."
"She's a queen, so she shouldn't be lonely." She accidentally produced a flurry as she leaned over to clean the floor. "Queens have courts, and even if she won't let me join hers, I want to visit."
"You should tell her that."
Rozie narrowed her eyes. "Maybe I will."
After tidying up, Yeva made dinner, ate with Rozie, and put her to bed. Once buried in blankets with Dr. Spots, Yeva stamped a kiss on her forehead. Rozie wished her good night and dozed off the moment the door clicked closed.
Dressing for bed, Yeva sat on one side of her mattress and held the Snow Queen's gift in her lap. It weighed there, shimmering in mellow candlelight.
She opened the paper on one side and drew the box from it, brown and lacquered with trees carved meticulously into it. Each leaf was carefully scratched into the wood, small details appearing like a photograph taken of a winter grove.
Upon opening it, Yeva stared.
The contents wouldn't shuffle because they couldn't have. Hundreds of bills were crammed together so stiffly that they hardly moved when Yeva dragged a finger across them. Where most stacks of money might give a little, like cards bend when shuffled, this one remained steadfast and stiff, rending Yeva still and mute.
Eventually, she replaced the lid and set the container in the night stand's empty bottom drawer, laying in bed. Beneath the avalanche of sheets and blankets, she considered the ceiling, whose light altered by the flame she forgot to extinguish. For once, Yeva didn't sit up to blow it out.