Following Keesha's wish, this chapter is a version of the story with the fairytale written out to a greater extent, as originally intended. So, this one goes out to you, Keesha!

The fairytale is the reason I changed the rating, just to be safe. On the other hand, the story has nothing on a traditional Grimm tale, so I guess tastes have changed a bit over a few hundred years XD
Please proceed at your own discretion and if you don't want to read the whole thing again, the new part starts after the second horizontal line ;-)

The Winter Lady

Come sundown, the palace turned into a mysterious maze of darkness and light. Once the candelabras were aglow with a myriad of candles, their golden shine would reflect off the mirrors, the gilded details on the picture frames, paintings, furniture, even from the lush fabrics and the colorful frescos. But the shadows would become more pronounced, as well, spreading along the corridors, hiding around corners and throwing statues into such stark relief that one might expect them to move at any moment. Even though everything here was dedicated to the glorification of the King and his reign, in these moments the rooms and hallways breathed a different life altogether. Even though there were people everywhere, servants, guards, courtiers, this hour belonged to twilight, to ghosts and fantasies and to memories from the past.

Rustling of fabric like the whisper of wind in the trees, footfalls ringing on the marble like the chime of faraway bells, the glimmer of pearls and precious stones, silouettes swathed in silk and lace ephemeral like smoke, the ladies of the court moved like visions themselves as they glided towards the Dauphin's chambers.

The royal offspring accepted their deep courtseys with practiced grace. In equally well practiced and graceful movements, their order and every detail dictated by court ritual, the women assisted the little boy in preparing for bed. Dark curls were carefully kempt, rosy skin caressed with soft cloth dabbed in warm, scented water. When finally, the Dauphin was sitting in the large bed, propped up against lushious cushions, a sound disturbed the silence that had no place in the ritual. A door,opening and closing. Another arrival.

The ladies immediately dropped a deep courtsey and the little boy also gravely bowed his head.

"Madame." His voice sounded so small. So serious.

Queen Anne in turn indicated a little bow of the head, then waved at the Ladies.

"Leave us."

When the door closed again, a radiant smile lit the Dauphin's features "Maman!" He extended his arms, but they did nothing to shorten the distance the enormous bed put between the little boy and his mother. It was Anne of Austria who came to his side in a second, neither caring about nor hindered by the expanse of her skirts and only content once she had him in her arms. The boy snuggled up to her in a deeply familiar gesture. This wasn't the first time Anne had visited her son like this and even though some members of court may have wrinkled their noses at this breach of etiquette, she was the Queen and frankly, couldn't care less. This was her son, after all, and she was allowed precious little time with him in any case.

"Did you have a nice day, Louis?" She asked, planting a kiss on the soft raven hair.

The Dauphin nodded enthusiastically "I got to ride again. I've improved a lot!"

"I bet you have."... a dashing figure on a horse black as night and swift as the wind, dark eyes sparkling with love and mischief... Queen Anne smiled "You'll be an accomplished horseman, soon enough, just like your father."

"I can't wait until father gives me a proper horse to ride..." The boy pouted a little "I like Caramel well enough, but she has no spirit."

At this, the Queen laughed " Louis, you're six years old! Have a little patience with yourself and that poor little pony." She ruffled his hair affectionately "Don't try to run..."

"...before you can walk." They finished in unison and Louis giggled until a large yawn interrupted the merriment.

"Will you tell me a story, Maman?" His eyes were shining expectantly, but betrayed his weariness as well.

"Of course, mon trésor! But first, we must get you settled in properly." The Queen removed the large cushions and tucked her son in before she moved to his side again.

"What shall it be?"

"A story about the King of the Sun and his brave Knights!"

Of course. His favourite.

Anne planted another kiss on her son's head and took a moment to ponder, before she began.
Night had fallen properly, now, and outside the window, darkness prevailed. Only the light of the stars made the snow stand out with a little glint and glimmer. Yes. This is the perfect story for a night like this.

"Once upon a time, in a kingdom far,far away, there ruled a wise King, as powerful and radiant as the Sun in his sky."
Little Louis was mouthing the words along with his mother, the realm of the story quite familiar to him.

" He was just and merciful to those who upheld his law, but unforgiving and dangerous to those who broke it and meant harm to his subjects. At his side loyally stood a band of Knights, brilliant and brave, shining like the stars in the night sky. This is the story of one of these courageous Knights and how his heart was stolen and turned to Ice by the Winter Lady."

Louis looked up at his mother, mesmerized. This was a story he hadn't heard before.

"Before he even became a Knight, you see, he was a nobleman with his own estate. " The Queen settled in at her son's side as the light from the single candle she had left burning on the ornate beside table turned their abode into an island floating in the night.

"One day, while he was out on a hunt, he happened upon a lone tree on a lovely hill. It was surrounded by the tiniest flowers, blue as the sky above, more than he had ever seen in one place. But it was the young woman, sitting beneath the tree, who gave him pause, for her beauty rivaled, nay far outshone the flowers she had wrought into garlands for her auburn hair. In that very moment, his heart went out to her and she caught it like one would a little bird, so tenderly, and held it to her bosom where it found peace.
So he took her home, welcomed her into his house and asked her to be his wife, to which she gladly agreed.
And the blue flowers followed her to the grand house and surrounded it, as if their love and joy had elevated it to the high heavens. So they would have lived, happily ever after, if fate or some ill fortune had not decreed it otherwise.

For the Knight's younger brother admired his good sister very much, and, as one version of the story would have it, envied his brother for her love and planned to take her for his own. Another version tells us that the young woman harboured a dark and deadly secret which the younger brother uncovered. Be that as it may... One dreadful day, our Knight returned home to find his brother dead and his beautiful wife, caught with the knife still in her bloodied hands, accused of the fell deed. However she tried to convince her husband of her innocence and his brother's ill intentions, however she tried to make him believe that he had wanted to do her harm, our Knight could not, would not believe her, but condemned her instead.

For it was the law that all murderers had to die, and as the King's liege, it fell to the Knight to uphold it on his lands. So he took her, that very same night, out unto that hill, to the very same place where they had first met. There, he made her kneel before him and raised his sword to execute his liegelord's will. But when she raised her head and looked him in the eyes, he found that he could not move a muscle to finish what he had begun by taking her to the hill at the dead of night.

So he wrought a garland, black and strong, and hung it from the tree and made her wear it round her neck. And before she even breathed her last, he turned his back on the woman he had loved more than life itself and left the hill, left his lands, even left his name behind, vowing never to return.

The Lady, though, even while she yet hung from the tree, touched the Knight's heart that she still had and held close to her own and drew from it such strenght and power that no harm came to her. But from where her finger had touched it, the Knight's heart fell still and turned to purest ice. And so she, in turn, walked away from the hill and it is said that where her feet touched the ground, the tiniest flowers of ice grew and sparkled in the blue light of the moon.

Thus they parted ways, the Knight and his Lady, and while he entered the service of his great King, his wife turned to darker roads. Where he found a new purpose in his life and was granted the love and friendship of his fellow Knights, his Lady pledged her allegiance to a master who had her work her magic from the shadows. Soon, whispers arose in the land of the Winter Lady, deadly and beautiful and near immortal, for she was said to posess a most powerful charm that kept her from suffering any injury.

Over many years, the noble Knight's fame and the Winter Ladie's notoriety grew and it was inevitable that their paths would cross, again and again. Many times, the Knight and his closest companions, true brothers, if not in blood, then in bond, one steadfast and strong as the heart of the earth, the second swift and sure as the wings of an eagle, the third passionate and pure as the brightest spark that ever lit a blaze, gave the Winter Lady chase, thwarted her plans and uncovered her intrigues. But never, in all that time, could our noble Knight complete the deed he had condemned himself to carry out all those years ago. For as long as he allowed her to hold on to his frozen heart, her most powerful safeguard, the noble Knight and the Winter Lady would never be at peace."

Queen Anne paused and looked down at her son, who was struggling hard to keep awake.

"Oh sweet Louis...I quite forgot how long this story is. We shall continue it another time, yes?"

The child nodded sleepily "But tell me, Maman..."

"What, my love?"

"Does it end well, eventually ?"

The Queen hesitated.

... adventures and war...brave deeds and horrendous betrayal...so much of it centered around the King, like planets moving, unfailingly, catastrophically along their trajectories around a blindingly bright sun... drawn to power, seduced by it, willing to sacrifice everything, anything, anybody to attain it...so much hate and envy, such longing for revenge... what did all that make of them, do to them...how cold and strong did a heart have to be to brave the turmoils of such a life and how deep must their love have been to try and save their brother, time and time again...until the very end...

"Maman? Does it have a happy end?"

"I'm afraid not all stories do, my son. But we always learn from them." Anne kissed the top of his head again
"And we never forget."

The End

So, dear reader, please let me know which version you prefer.

And again, Merry Holidays and a Happy New Year!