Page 19 of The Enchanted Frost (The Christmas Chronicles)
EPILOGUE
T he world outside our realm was silent, blanketed in a soft layer of snow, but within the glacier palace the air hummed with a quiet, comforting magic that I had grown intimately familiar with during my time as Frost’s wife. I watched the dancing snowflakes through the frost-covered window decorated with the patterns Frost had created in my childhood. My breath no longer fogged the glass—there was no more sharp contrast of mortal warmth against the winter’s chill; I was now part of this realm and the endless cycle of winter, and though the cold surrounded me, I had never felt more alive. For the first time in my life I truly belonged.
As I stared across the endless expanse of frost and snow, I marveled at how much this realm had become my home and basked in the sense of purpose I had found here; Frost told me I brought something different to winter now that I was part of its guardianship.
The cold had always been pure and beautiful in its stillness, but now I could add a touch of warmth without disturbing the balance Frost so carefully guarded. The drifting snowflakes seemed to shimmer just a bit brighter, the ice-carved trees possessed the softest glow, and I could feel life beneath each frozen surface, waiting patiently for its time to emerge. Winter no longer felt harsh or isolating, but instead cradled a gentleness, a reminder that even in the coldest season, there was comfort, warmth, and love. This was my role—to bring hope’s warmth to the cold, to balance the heart of the season with a tenderness only I could offer.
I was gently tugged from my reminiscences with the arrival of soft padding footsteps—a sound I’d come to know well. A smile tugged my lips. I didn’t need to turn to feel Frost’s presence; the familiar energy that pulsed from him always called to something deep within me.
He slipped his arms around my waist and pulled me against his chest, his embrace as warm to me as any summer sun. “Admiring your kingdom again?” he murmured into my ear, his breath sending shivers down my spine, though not from the cold.
I leaned back into him, resting my head against his shoulder, and let out a contented sigh. “ Our kingdom,” I corrected.
I felt his lips curve into a smile against my neck. “You always remind me but I still can’t get used to it. You, standing here, with me. It feels like something out of a dream.” Affection filled his soft voice.
I laughed lightly, tilting my head to meet his gaze. “Then we’re both dreaming…and I never want to wake up.”
His fingers traced a gentle line down my back before turning me in the cradle of his arms so we faced one another. Even after all this time, I still marveled at him—the way his eyes sparkled with that ice-blue glow, the way his silver hair caught the light like spun frost, the way his touch remained soft and tender even though he wielded the raw power of winter. He had regained all of his breathtaking immortality…wi th the added tempering of human compassion. And then there was the way he looked at me, as if even with all he had experienced within his eternal existence, I was the most precious thing in his world.
He brushed a strand of hair—which had transformed in the FrostHeart chamber to both the color and sparkle of fresh snow—from my face. “I never thought I could have you with me, ruling by my side—my beloved Queen of Winter.”
I smiled as I rested my hand on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath the fabric of his cloak. “Neither did I,” I whispered, my voice full of wonder. “But here we are.”
Frost cupped my cheek, his thumb softly brushing my skin. For a moment, we simply stood there, lost in each other.
There was no need to fill the quiet with anything but the warmth of our connection, one I never would have imagined over the course of my mortal life. Only by it coming to its frozen end had I been able to discover this new beginning beyond anything I could have ever imagined, even amid the wealth and privilege that had once been mine.
We basked in the reverence for a long, beautiful moment until he spoke. “Have you gotten used to the snow yet, my queen? You don’t seem to miss the sun.” His tone was playful, evidence of the happiness he shared.
I raised a teasing eyebrow. “There seems to be plenty of warmth whenever I need it.”
“And yet you still seem to be rather attached to my cloak.” His eyes danced.
The sound of my laughter drew Shiver’s notice; his head poked out from the soft bed where he was curled in a frosty ball and he peered curiously over.
“I admit to the attachment, but not to being cold. It’s pure sentiment for the cloak’s owner.” I snuggled deeper into the cloak before leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips.
His embrace tightened around me, pulling me closer as he earnestly returned my kiss, his slow and sweet. A mischievous gleam filled his eyes when we parted. “I will do my best to ensure you’re never cold again.”
I laughed again, the sound echoing through the grand halls of the icy palace, and nestled back against him, savoring the feel of him. Outside, the snow fell endlessly, but in this moment everything was perfect in the life we’d carved out together—one built on love, sacrifice, and the unbreakable bond forged in the labyrinth.
I lifted my head as I felt Frost stiffen in surprise. “What is that?” He pointed to the corner of the room, where a cozy fire crackled upon an ice hearth—a blaze I’d kindled with magic this time instead of the poor matches I’d once depended on for my very existence.
“The fire?” I arched an innocent eyebrow. “It’s been there for a while.”
Frost made an impatient noise even as an indulgent smile tugged at his lips. “I’m referring to that large object beside the fire that definitely has not been there for a while.”
“Oh, the fir tree? I brought it in this afternoon in honor of the human celebration of Yuletide that occurs every winter.”
Frost chuckled. “I’m rather aware of the tradition.”
“Since it’s our duty to be the best possible caretakers of the human world, I thought it would be useful for us to enter the spirit of the season like the mortals do.”
“Oh really?” My husband’s smile was on full display now.
“Also.” I dropped the bantering tone. “I never got a chance to decorate a tree as a child.”
Frost’s smile vanished. “Did your family not celebrate?”
“Every year my parents threw the grandest party in town. The house was filled with garlands, holly, and the tallest, most magnificent tree that could be found, which was decorated by the servants; I was forbidden to touch a single branch.”
Frost took a deep breath, as he usually did when I relayed a new detail of my past life, before shaking his head and smiling at me again, this time in gentle compassion rather than playfulness. “Then it’s time we decorate your first tree.”
We approached the graceful fir together. Frost contemplated it for a moment, his head tilted thoughtfully to the side, before extending his hand to me. Smiling, I took it and we held our joined hands towards the tree, letting our magic mingle. Tendrils of frost swirled out, wrapping around the tree in a turquoise glow. Joy swelled as the once silent music caressed my hearing. Though I’d caught snippets of the language of winter before my transformation, I could now hear the beautiful woven song as molecules formed and joined to create patterns. The light faded and we surveyed our handiwork—ornate garlands of glittering ice hung from the branches, and intricate, glasslike ornaments swayed gently, catching the light.
“It’s perfect,” I whispered, laying my head on Frost’s shoulder.
“Not quite,” he responded. “I can’t have my tree decorated more finely than my queen.”
Once more he concentrated, wisps of magic swirling out to surround me and settle on my chest. I looked down to see a sparkling pendant, finer than any human diamond, resting above my heart, suspended from a chain of the most delicate ice.
“I’ve never seen anything more beautiful at any ball,” I murmured, touching it gently.
“It’s not as bright as your eyes,” he responded, leaning close to steal another kiss. “I thought they were beautiful when you were mortal, but they’re beyond lovely now. They used to be a pretty pale grey that made me think of a snow-laden cloud on a winter morning, but now they’re the exact shade of our magic.”
We settled onto the hearth next to our fire that cast soft warmth but didn’t melt the ornaments. “I’ve been thinking,” I said after a quiet pause. “We should visit Borealis. It’s been a while since we’ve seen him.”
Frost made a face. “Do we have to?”
I poked him playfully in the chest. “I don’t want you to ever endure the loneliness that once marred your existence. As one of Season’s Guardians he’s your family in a sense, as are the other seasonal rulers. Not to mention that he’s the one who married us, so shouldn’t you feel a sense of gratitude?” I smirked, knowing he’d have no comeback for that.
He heaved a dramatic sigh, antics marred by his adoring grin. “Very well, but only because I want to show him how well you’ve taken to your new role as well as show you off to the other Guardians. No one ever thought I’d let anyone share my throne.”
I tilted my head with a mock-serious look. “Well, he wasn’t wrong. You are rather stubborn, Frost.”
His chuckle was deep and rich as he leaned in to kiss me again, his lips brushing softly against mine. “And yet you still love me.”
“Always and forever,” I whispered against his lips.
In that moment, I knew that no matter how long eternity stretched before us, I would never grow tired of him, of us. Together, we ruled the winter realm, balancing the icy chill of nature with the warmth of our love. As Frost held me in his arms with the world of snow swirling outside our palace of ice, I knew that this was the happily ever after I had never dared to dream of.
“I love you,” he murmured, his voice low and tender as he conveyed the words that I had spent my entire life seeking, only to discover them in the most unexpected place.
“And I love you.” I closed my eyes and let myself fall into the comforting embrace of the man who was my world, my king…and my forever.