One day, it snowed.
Yeva awoke with chilled hands and goose-pimpled skin. When she looked to the window, a singular lop-sided heart awaited her, drawn by a shaky hand.
"Snow Queen!" Yeva approached the glass. "Where have you been?"
'I'm sorry.' The text appeared slowly, lagging between letters. 'I fell asleep for days. There were moments when I woke, but I couldn't rise from my sofa, nor could I go to the mirror. I've since moved it here, but—'
The print stopped. Having expanded over the window, it grew anemic towards the end. Her uneven cursive fell back to the snow around the house in patches, not cold enough to adhere to the glass.
"I'm relieved you're still here. I've missed you, My Queen."
'Oh, Yeva.' Those words managed to stay a bit longer. After they faded, however, neither added to the conversation. Yeva had placed her hand against the glass, and perhaps the Snow Queen had done the same, as the area around Yeva's palm felt colder.
"Will I still be able to see you?"
'Perhaps not as frequently, and certainly not during summer, but I imagine that you will.' A pause occurred. 'I'm not sure how this will work outside of winter, but I want to continue speaking.'
Yeva placed her hand against the glass. "We'll figure it out, Snow Queen. If I have to wait until next winter, that's what I'll do."
The Snow Queen accompanied Yeva outside that morning. She would mention Rozie passing a recent test, or how she had sold more chairs last week than expected, or ask a question. "Have you seen anything interesting in town, My Queen?" Or, "Did you have any dreams when you slept?"
'No,' her frost progressed into a pause. 'I didn't see anything.' Lengthy sentences took longer.'I didn't dream at all.'
Yeva went to the window and touched it. "You don't have to write if you're tired, Snow Queen. I'll be happy just knowing you're here."
'Thank you, Yeva.' The window lost its chill, but the words still came. 'I'll watch you.'
Every morning from that day, Yeva would awake to misshapen hearts on the window, but even then, she might not receive an answer. Sometimes they would melt before she witnessed it, leaving a watery splash where the ice had been, bloated around the edges.
Even still, Yeva placed her hand over it, and went about her day, looking into windows for changes. More often than not, she found none.
Another Saturday passed with a quiet board game. Sitting in the middle of the floor, they played a game called Candy Adventure. Rozie, having selected pink, held a slight lead over Yeva's yellow piece, despite staring out the window after rolling.
Yeva, progressing two steps and drawing a card, touched her arm, "Rozie, you have a cavity. Move back two places."
"What?"
"That's what this card says."
Reading it over, Rozie grumbled and moved her piece back, and tossed the dice without regarding the result.
"Rozie, you landed on a peppermint."
"Huh?"
"You get to move ahead three spaces plus the five you rolled."
As Rozie moved, Yeva too glanced to the window. A light snowfall descended into the backyard, fogging the glass.
"Do you think she'll come tonight?"
Yeva rolled the dice. "I don't know."
"I wish she would. Is she okay?"
"I don't know, Rozie." The dice had stopped at six, but Yeva didn't progress. Instead, she put her cheek over the cushion of her hand, exhaling.
Rozie moved it for her. "I miss her."
"I miss her too."
Neither the Queen nor her wolves came to them. Both went to bed as the wind rattled the walls of the house. The air had grown cold and Yeva woke at midnight, turning to the moonlight reflecting against the clock face.
She found her name in the window.
"Snow Queen, what's wrong?"
She took a long time to respond as the wind blew outside. The glass felt colder than it had over the last several months, and frantically, she wrote, 'I'm not sure I'll make it past spring.'
"What do you mean?"
'I'm dying.'
Both failed to speak, until the Snow Queen continued.
'I've felt so weak. I don't have the strength to move the palace north. I'm sorry.'
The text disappeared, replaced by more words printed at a speed that Yeva could hardly read. 'I've been weeping so much, which I'm sure doesn't aid the exhaustion. I feel so sad that I won't be able to speak to you any longer, but I'm grateful I experienced you and Rozie keeping me company.'
Yeva touched the window.
'You've made me feel,' the Snow Queen wrote around her fingers before beginning again. 'Perhaps that's the reason I'm coming apart this way, but this ordeal was my fault in the first place. I was angry. My husband wasn't a bad man, but I longed for a life where I didn't have to swallow my desires for obligation. I didn't kill my emotions. I buried them inside myself, where they manifested as ice.'
Yeva barely caught up and the Snow Queen erased, continuing.
'When he died, the pressure to appear sad was too much. I reached the peak of bitterness and transformed, changing my servants with me. I left my people. I had felt nothing for so long, but now that I've started feeling again, there's so much regret.' She stopped there.
"I'm sorry, Snow Queen. I never set out to hurt you."
'No,' The area where Yeva touched the window grew cold around the borders of her hand, like the Snow Queen pressed her palm against the glass as well. 'You're not to blame. I appreciate the happiness you've given me after twenty years of apathy. These emotions have given way to others, but the fault is mine for neglecting to acknowledge them.'
The glass grew colder.
'I've began to…' The Snow Queen didn't write for a while. 'I love you, Yeva.'
"Snow Queen." Yeva wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry—after everyone I've lost, I don't want to lose you too. I've missed you terribly—" She broke down, tears flowing until it emptied her.
The wind blew hard outside the window, creating a long shhhhh—
'Yeva, will you come to me?'
"When?"
'Tonight. I'll place my castle where it was when you first came. Follow the path through town.' Her words were becoming thinner. 'I'll send my wolves.'
"Okay," Yeva said. "I'll be ready."
Erasing the tear stains, she stopped outside to go to Rozie's room. Getting as far as the hallway, she found Rozie standing outside, wiping her own eyes.
"Have you been listening the whole time?"
Rozie nodded. "Go to her."
Yeva scooped up her sister, kissing her forehead. "Be good."
"I will," Rozie promised as she squeezed Yeva back.
Both went to the back window, quietly waiting as the wind blew by, kicking up the old snow. Neither spoke. Rozie merely held Yeva's hand as minutes piled. Occasionally, Yeva squeezed her sister's hand a little harder, and finally, the carriage arrived.
Drawn by only one wolf without the Snow Queen, Yeva boarded the carriage as Rozie watched from the window. As soon as she took the reins, they were off.
In the hours of the morning, the wolf ran through the city, cutting through the pervasive silence deep and dark as the night. Only once did they pass a drunk wandering home from a long night at the bar, who may have glanced Yeva's way. She never caught his reaction. The wolf ran too fast to be anything more than a white blur against a white background, giving birth to more far-fetched rumors.
It didn't take long for Yeva to arrive at the castle, whose doors stood wide open for her. Even from the outside, she could see the disarray—the throne melted around its normally perfect edges, and the darkness obscuring the entire room. The central chandelier was melting too, its edges decrepit and formless.
Yeva stepped out of the carriage and, after the wolf had run away, walked inside the throne room. Like the night outside, it emitted silence, which Yeva cut with a call.
"Snow Queen?"
There was no answer, but Yeva ran to the right hallway, searching for a ballerina to point her in the correct direction.
The walls, lit by the occasional glow, shared nothing but empty space, yet Yeva heard gasping from one of the rooms. It sounded like crying, breathless and voiceless. Only the bodily act of heaving garnered sound.
Coiled in the middle of an empty room was a ballerina. Hunched over and on her knees, she was crying.
Where before the ballerinas appeared tranquil and unmoving, this one heaved. The smooth white of her snow-like skin had given away in places to reveal a light peach color, a backward leprosy that revealed normal skin within the wounds. Strands of ginger peaked through her hair, sprouts pushing through the snow. Yeva froze and stared.
"Are you alright?" she asked.
The ballerina pointed back to the throne room. "Past the dining room—" she whispered, "Go—"
Just then, a droplet of water hit Yeva's forehead. She hurried back to the throne room.
Yeva entered and followed the hallway behind where the Snow Queen would normally sit. It was a straight shot to another room, which opened as soon as Yeva drew close.
The chamber also had poor lighting, but in the back, the Snow Queen laid upon her sofa, beneath a luxurious white cloak. The other wolf, Anna, cuddled with her, whose ears perked when Yeva entered. Her mirror sat in front of her, which in spite of the warming state of the palace, had frozen over. The Queen's reflection distorted inside it.
"I'm sorry I couldn't send both wolves," she said. "Annushka wouldn't listen."
"That's not a problem. I'm here."
The Snow Queen closed her eyes. The poor lighting in the room accentuated the drastic shadows of her face. Her crown had begun to melt.
"Oh, Snow Queen," Yeva approached and kneeled next to her, touching her cheek, which wasn't nearly as cold as usual. Her deep winter transitioned to spring, as beads rolled along her face. The mirror-like surface of her eyes had melted blue, the hue of an icy lake soon to break apart.
Despite her labored breathing, the Snow Queen remained relatively still, as did Yeva. Both maintained their positions, with Yeva stroking the Snow Queen's face.
She had coaxed out a silver lock from behind her ear, stiff at its low temperature, but long and luxurious—perfect in its untouched state.
Looping it around her finger, Yeva said, "I'm sorry. I have no idea what to say. I'm so grateful for everything you've done for Rozie and I, and to think I did this to you—" She choked back tears that escaped anyway.
"I told you, I'm not upset. Even frozen, I doubt I could have lived forever, and if immortality were possible, I wouldn't wish to go on that way." The Snow Queen placed her hand upon Yeva's, holding it. "You always thank me for what I've done for you, but I should thank you for what you've done for me. You've made me feel the emotions those old songs and poems went on about—that shock whenever I set my eyes upon you, the tortured impatience whenever I had to wait for your company. More than anything, I wanted to be in your light, and seeing you happy was worth more than every treasure in this palace. I never dared to think I was capable of experiencing such sensation."
Yeva began to cry. She gasped in choppy breaths and sobbed as a result, melting as profusely as the Snow Queen. Despite her deluge, she tried to keep her eyes open.
"My tough girl." The Snow Queen spoke through tears as well.
Yeva pressed her lips against the Snow Queen's, and like a string snapping, the dim lights disappeared alongside the shattering of a mirror. They held one another, but Yeva could no longer feel her grasping.
She broke the kiss to speak, "Snow Queen?"
Where there would have been an answer came the strained breaking of ice. Yeva immediately reached out to find only the Queen's cloak, masking a body. Moving quickly, she wrapped the extra fabric around it and ran into the hallway.
Somehow, without any exterior light, Yeva could see. The first three feet before her became visible, and she rushed past the corridor and into the dining room without tripping upon the table legs or the chairs.
Making it into the throne room, the moon overhead showed through a hole in the ceiling, its light coming down like hail.
Ice from above fell upon her, and while hitting her shoulders and back, it hardly deterred her.
Grasping the body close, Yeva crash-landed into the remaining snow. The palace collapsed into itself, shaking the ground as entire chambers collided with the hard earth.
Where the castle was before, a pile of ice had collected around Yeva's wooden throne, which stood unharmed. From the horizon, the sun rose behind it, converting the moisture in the air to a rainbow.
Drawn to the sound of a breath, Yeva looked behind her. A pair of knife-sharp blue eyes locked with hers, and both she and the woman before her stared.
Exhaling slowly, Yeva grew stuck on her long silver hair, and the little crow's feet around her eyes, and her long grey lashes that complemented her pale brows.
At first, the woman covered her mouth by a slightly wrinkled hand, through which she spoke, "You saved me." Her voice was quiet and lacked the booming quality of the Snow Queen's, but held the same tone and pitch. "You saved me!"
As soon as Yeva inhaled to speak, the woman tackled her to the ground in an embrace, weeping as someone who hadn't in twenty years. "You saved me!" She repeated through tears, and kisses all over Yeva's face.
Yeva, too, returned the barrage, touching her lips to the woman's cheeks, chin, nose, and finally mouth, where they both settled for several seconds. Calming, they embraced one another, as the woman sank into Yeva's body, fitting perfectly now that she was smaller.
Breathless, Yeva asked, "What's your name?"
But the woman kept sobbing, and Yeva kept holding her, still layering kisses over whatever parts of her face she could.
Others began to arrive. First a set of women came, dressed like ballerinas. Behind them approached two Amazonian guards, wearing fine white uniforms. All of the attendants stopped and watched as their Queen kept crying, but even beneath their gazes, Yeva didn't stop kissing her.
Eventually, she calmed, and once having settled further into the embrace, Yeva told her, "I think your court is here to see you, My Queen."
Wiping the tears from her reddened face, the woman looked to them just as they looked back to her. Both parties remained stunned to silence as some of the ballerinas and both guards began to cry.
"I'm so sorry," the Queen began. "I'm sorry for what I've done to you, but it's wonderful—" her voice faltered, "to see you all again. I'm glad you're safe—" She came forward, tripping a bit on her human legs, and embraced as many servants as she could hold. The ones that fit outside her arms held her, until all of them had congealed into a firm group hug.
In the center of it, laughing while tearing up, the Queen looked to Yeva. Without needing to be told, she joined the pile as well, admitted by one of the guards.
"Yeva," the Queen said amidst the happy chatter, "I hate to ask this of you, but my ladies and I have nowhere to stay."
"Rozie and I will make as much room as we can."
"Thank you."
Once the embrace had ended, the Queen announced that they would go to Yeva's home. From the broken ice scattered on the ground, each of her servants took remnants of the leftover palace—the old paintings, the unbroken china, the jewels, the books, and in a box, they collected the shards of the shattered mirror.
On the way down the mountain, Yeva held her and her box of glass, as everyone else brought as much as they could carry.
"I'm Diana," she said a few steps down. The remaining snow melted around them.
"It's nice to meet you, Diana." Yeva kissed her on the lips.
Diana's pale cheeks pinkened as she released a sigh shaped like a gasp. "Oh, Yeva. You're glowing."
They continued into the city with their old paintings and treasures and Queen, where the statue had melted and everyone stared at them. As the people discovered Diana, they celebrated and some even followed the procession, but Yeva never set her down, and Diana never shied from kissing her, even with every pair of eyes pointed at them.