47

The Throne Awaits

The curtains are still drawn over the windows the farther I pass through the castle, a good sign no one has ventured this far. The tall wooden doors of the throne room curve into a pointed arch and are wide enough to fit groups of people at once.

I send a prayer up to the Makers as I reach for the latch.

Decorations from last night's ball still adorn the lanterns, curtains, floors, and walls. The luscious colors of black and red are bold and pull all eyes away from the beige stone.

To my relief, there is no one in here.

My footsteps echo against the stone as I step closer to the dais, the two black marble thrones bringing in the entire room. I look around once more, stepping up to touch the seat I was meant to sit and govern in. But I recede my hand when someone approaches.

For some reason, my heart thinks it is Jerrick and lifts, but when I turn, I am reminded I came here for Niko.

I shrivel with disappointment and anger.

Niko's steps falter when he sees me. He scans my ensemble from head to toe. His stare makes me want to look away, but instead, I step down as he meets me at the foot of the dais.

"Niko—"

"Thank the Makers you're alright, Tove," Niko sighs in relief.

He sheaths his sword and rushes to me, holding my arms in place before pulling in and squeezing hard. "I was so worried he killed you," he whispers.

I ignore his worry, furious he disobeyed a direct order, even when I tried to tell him about helping his uncle. I wiggle to free myself from his embrace.

He catches on and slowly releases me, pain etched in his features. His amber eyes are cool, his hair matted and disheveled from the sweat dripping down the side of his brow.

From running or fighting, I am not sure, but it breaks my heart that I don't even know the man standing before me anymore.

I raise my voice. "Niko, I told you to stand down. Why didn't you listen?"

"I did. But Ulrik, he was the one that—" He stops as my eyes widen in disbelief.

He is lying.

My steps move backward of their own accord, and I shake my head as he watches me. "How could you? How could you do this to me? To us? To Axidoria?"

Niko's features darken, filling with malice as he clicks his tongue. "I told you, Tove. I didn't do this. Ulrik—"

"Stop fucking lying!" I scream.

Niko's face falls.

"King Bernard told me you ordered them to join you and Ulrik in the throne room. But I don't even see Ulrik. So, I know this is you. You need to stand down and get out of here while I try to fix this. I am not going to watch more people die. I am not going to watch you and Jer try to kill each other."

"Oh, so it's Jer now? Not King Jerrick? Or Rick? Or the man who kidnapped you?" he barks back, anger still etched on his features as he folds his arms.

"At least he didn't shoot me with an arrow!"

My accusation is met with a swift laugh.

"Oh, we are back to this again," Niko says, rolling his eyes. "Lovely."

My brows furrow, baffled by this… this stranger in front of me.

"I missed my target by a few feet, and you survived. Can't you get over that how you got over him kidnapping you?" he asks.

"I can't get over it when the man who shot me is a man who is supposed to love me!" I yell, my magic drawing itself to attention at my pain and truths coming out.

"I've never loved you," he spits, pure wrath burning in his gaze.

My power snuffs out, and my entire world caves in.

Niko's hardened steel features turn dark and menacing. Lethal.

Trepidation creeps up the length of my spine, my knees almost buckling as the hair on my neck stands with deep foreboding. "Wh-What?" I choke out.

He is lying.

I take a step backward and clench my chest.

Niko chuckles ominously, watching me struggle to find words.

My vision shifts slightly, and I stumble a step, disbelief coursing through my veins. I reach for my magic, the only defense I have, but I can't summon it.

Niko prowls closer. "Do you honestly think I could ever love someone who killed the only person I've ever loved?"

My heart stills.

Runa?

He continues with indignation despite my hesitation. "I loved Runa from the moment I first saw her. It didn't matter that your mother cursed my father, not my uncle, as you believe, for a crime he didn't commit. I pleaded with your mother and father, yet they refused to change their ruling. Your mother's curses were cruel. The lot of you always are. And when my father ended his life to end his own torment, I sought justice for the wrongs the monarchy had done to me, to my father, to so many people. He was my only family. And even my love for Runa didn't stop me from killing your father. And then, well—your mother planned her own demise."

I fight to hold myself together, despite the tears filling my vision from the person in front of me.

He lied about his family.

H-He killed…

Father.

I shudder through the confirmation. My gut sinks, and I cover my mouth in horror as the pieces click into place.

His voice drops an octave, low and lethal as he says, "Freeing Axidoria from a wicked monarchy and avenging my father drew a greater purpose when I met Runa. I planned for her to fall for me so I could marry her and kill the whole lot of you and rule alongside her."

Tears soak my cheeks from Nikolaj's admission, and I yelp in pain when he closes the gap between us, gripping my hair and yanking it back. It forces me to meet the furious storm brewing in his amber eyes.

"But you had to go and kill the love of my life and derail and ruin my plan with your stupid fucking magic," he seethes, his hold on my hair tightening beyond the point of pain.

I squeeze my eyes shut, grieving for the man I thought I knew.

But he did… everything.

I harden my features, scorn and fury bearing into him as I strike him with the only venom I can find. "Runa would never be with you if she knew you did this."

Nikolaj explodes in a rage of fury, throwing me down on the ground.

My chin meets the stone hard, the brunt force sending a pulse of agony through my jaw.

"You don't deserve to breathe her name," Nikolaj spits.

I reach for my magic, desperately hoping it is there. But the pain is too distracting and keeps my powers just out of my grasp.

I falter, my heart crushing even more as I struggle to meditate, my thoughts drifting to the memory of Jerrick's anguished features.

I should have told him it was real.

Nikolaj's grip returns tight on my scalp, laughing at the whimpering mess I am, shoving me to the ground and kicking me in the stomach. Hard. His boot makes contact with my ribs, the sound of it screeching against my ears.

I scream out from the weighted force of his strength seeking to break me.

He does it again and again.

And again.

And again.

By the fifth time, his foot hits my lower stomach, my diaphragm shifts up my core as small amounts of blood drip from my mouth.

"Where's your stupid magic now, Snow Queen?" Nikolaj challenges.

He extends his arms, taunting and mocking me to strike him. Nikolaj drops them quickly when he sees I don't move, squatting to my eye level.

His entire face shifts, puckering his lips and blinking his eyes rapidly. "Oh, Niko, I don't want to kill anyone!"

He mocks my grief, my pain, throwing everything I confided to him in these last five years against me. Nikolaj chuckles darkly before standing, kicking his foot again toward me.

I grunt and yelp out in pain when my bones crack. My ribs are breaking, a stabbing and fracturing pain multiplying in my body, air difficult to find and breathe.

I wish I had enough strength to brace for more pain.

Boots scurry across the floor beyond, mercifully drawing Nikolaj's foot away.

My eyes flutter through pain and tears, peering over to the throne room's entrance, Jerrick and Jonas coming into view. I know they want to kill me, but I can't help my whimpered cries of relief at the two of them, even if they feel so far.

Their swords are unsheathed and bloodied, and gore is splattered across both of their bodies.

More echoes come from the hall, and my heart leaps when an armed Viggo with King Beauvais and others appear. They join Jerrick and Jonas a few steps back, a group of castle guards and bannermen behind them with swords drawn and bows nocked.

Jerrick halts everyone as they take in the scene unfurling in the throne room, and when his eyes find mine, my heart breaks.

I tried to fix everything, and I've fucked it all up.

I can't tell if it is anger or concern in his beautiful stare, but it doesn't stop me from letting out another choked sob to reach for him, for Jonas, for my family.

Nikolaj growls in irritation, his hands wrapping around my hair again, forcing a yelp from my lips.

I scream in pain, struggling against his hold. My prayers and pleas for my magic to manifest are ignored.

Nikolaj jerks me up, using me as a shield as he draws a dagger to my throat.

Jerrick, Jonas, King Beauvais, and even Viggo, sweet and bashful Viggo, step forward, but they are too far away to do anything.

Nikolaj laughs, clicking his tongue as he holds me hostage. "I see you've gathered quite the audience. Finally."

The fighting beyond the throne room feels distant, the silence surrounding us thick and wary, everyone hesitant to make another step.

Nikolaj works his jaw, craning my neck more.

He whispers so only I can hear. "How fitting it is that the man who loves you gets to watch you die?"

Nikolaj applies light pressure to the blade at the side of my throat, the sharp jab forcing me to hiss.

"H-He doesn't love me," I gasp in shallow breaths.

Nikolaj chuckles darkly. "We shall see about that."

He returns his attention to the men at the threshold, removing the blade from my neck to point at Jerrick. "I know I gathered everyone here today to watch me kill you, but it is much more fitting to kill her."

Nikolaj moves the blade directly over my heart.

I wrestle against him, but with his hand fastened around my hair pulling me upward, I only give myself more pain. It erupts everywhere in my torso, my movements unbearable when Nikolaj stretches me a few inches off the floor, making a spectacle of me.

"Don't make another move," Jerrick orders Nikolaj, his sword pointed in challenge.

Nikolaj laughs wickedly, completely unfazed. "Don't you get it? She is the source of everyone's problems. I am doing everyone here a favor."

Everyone remains unmoving and silent as Nikolaj keeps me prisoner.

"Surrender. Now," Jerrick demands.

Nikolaj feigns fear at Jerrick's statement. "I will have my vengeance," Nikolaj vows, shoving his dagger into my injured side.

I yelp.

I do not know if the audible gasp is my own because, miserably, I am still reaching and pleading for my magic, if only to numb the pain of my own injuries. It could take away the pinching between my ribs, the tearing in my gut, and the shattering of my heart.

Jerrick moves, too far from stopping Nikolaj as he drags the dagger to my chest, slicing downward and cutting my shirt open.

A small steady stream of blood trickles down my body, and I hiss, pinching my eyes shut as I fight against the blade, biting my lip through the pain.

A chilling kiss blossoms in my core.

My magic.

I shudder in relief as the familiar kernel of power unfurls, seeking to console me.

Frost traces its way along my arms, forming swirls and flurries of snow and ice and numbing me as Niko's shining blade punctures my chest.

The cold steel in my body is unfamiliar, stinging more and more as Nikolaj spitefully laughs, gradually and torturously sending the blade deeper and deeper, seeking to enjoy and prolong my demise.

"NO!" Jerrick bellows, sprinting toward me.

I barely grasp anything beyond the blade and my magic manifesting in my hands.

I hiss through the searing sensation, inhaling once, and realize I am not going to make it out of this.

Jerrick and I are still married, which makes him King of Axidoria.

At least my people will have Jerrick and Jonas.

And maybe my death will end my cursed winter. Maybe finding the tools to break Jerrick's curse will allow him the chance to end the one I have placed on my own people. If anyone could figure it out, it would be my husband.

I wish I had more time to explain myself to him.

I wish I didn't lie to him.

I wish I could tell Jerrick how much I love him.

With what could be my last words, I persevere, finally and fully accepting myself. Everything I've worked toward fixing, toward healing, toward saving, will be righted once I am gone. And that is enough.

I am enough.

If I am going to die, so will Nikolaj.

I am doing this for me, for my kingdom, and for my family waiting to embrace and love me on the other side.

Nikolaj's gaze meets mine.

I grit out, "The difference between us, Nikolaj, is, when I die, Runa will want to see me. Runa will still love me. Not you. Never you."

My strength weakens as I reach to grab the hilt of the dagger, my fingertips brushing along Nikolaj's skin.

Warm liquid trickles down the center of my chest, and the pressure tugging my scalp slackens as a startled hiss is directed in my ear.

The momentary freedom is nothing as I am released, my hands catching myself from forcing the dagger farther into my body.

On my hands and knees, I barely have the strength to gaze up and catch the frost transforming to ice over Nikolaj.

His right hand grows with frost, streaming up his arm and down his body in rapid succession.

My magic at play is horrifying to see, the past repeating itself as Nikolaj loses movement.

He withdraws another dagger, attempting to hack away my powers molding to him and the speed of it multiplies. His tanned skin alters to a sickly pale tone as the ice splinters and bursts up his chest.

It cracks with each new angle he shifts into, the crystals freezing him to the ground. His movements turn frantic, cleaving and sawing at his own body, with the hope of escape.

But as the puddle of blood grows underneath me, I collapse on my right side, weakly wrapping my arms around myself. I shake uncontrollably in agony as I watch my magic right one of my endless wrongs.

Terror etches itself in Nikolaj's features and body as the Snow Queen's touch steals his life.

I close my eyes at the end of a man I thought I knew, expecting grief to hit me, but instead, there is a void.

With one problem gone and one more left, I seek my own peace, begging my magic to numb the pain and to finally remove the threat I am to everyone.

I pray hard, hoping the Deities will let me return to my family.

My head droops, seeking to rest against the stone floor, but it meets something soft.

A tender hand rests on my hip, and I groan in pain from the movement, the blade shifting in my chest.

When pale blue eyes meet mine, I immediately wish to cower to my early grave.

"Tove," Jerrick chokes out.

His audible pain sends a tear down the side of my face.

I never thought I'd hear him say my name ever again.

But a coppery tang is in the air, my attention on the blade and the vast amount of blood seeping from my body. It trickles down my arm and pools around me.

Jerrick cups my face, directing my focus to him.

"Don't look. I'm here, my love. I'm here," he soothes. "I've always got you, remember?"

My chest hollows, and I wheeze, seeking to fill my lungs with what my body needs. But the air is too far away...

"I-I'm so, s-so, s-s-soooorry." I shiver and pant.

I never wanted to hurt him.

I never meant to lie.

I hope this… This is enough.

The ceiling above me moves down as the frost, the chill, and the cold seep around me, changing. It is not a glimmer of power nor a small kernel of home when I reach for it.

This coldness is dark, gloomy—grave.

Jonas, Viggo, and King Beauvais come into my line of vision.

Jerrick analyzes the blade in my chest and turns to the now frozen statue of Nikolaj.

A numbing sensation pricks itself along my fingertips and toes as Jerrick looks at King Beauvais.

"Please," Jerrick begs the man hovering above.

Blinking is too strenuous to do at this point.

I lean into Jerrick, warmth soothing me as the numbness creeps up my arms, weighing down and reducing the use of my hands and fingers.

"It's okay," I murmur up to Jerrick through a pained smile.

He looks down, his entire expression forlorn.

I seek his hand, not knowing if he can feel the circles I am drawing along his skin to comfort him. "You get to find someone to break your curse. You get to find love—you get to find your happy again, Jer."

I inhale the mixture of cologne, leather, and blood.

One last time.

A presence lowers as everything feels heavy—so dark.

I can't tell who it is, and I don't even want to look. I keep my attention on Jerrick as long as I can, smiling faintly at him.

But I just want to rest my eyes.

"Tove, you fool," Jerrick whispers.

A beam of light shines in the darkness, the sense of something foreign leaving my body. It scrapes my skin, feeling just as painful, if not more so than when I was stabbed.

I slowly blink, yellow light in full view. It is blinding and warm.

"We need to move her," someone says.

"But what about the frost coming from Lord Nikolaj?" a man asks.

"We need to warm her first," another declares.

"What about—"

My mind drifts...

A warm comfort grazes my chest, my arms, my legs, and my feet. It spreads along my body, light and sweet.

It reminds me so much of Jerrick's magic.

Maybe when I wake, I can compose a melody to remember how sweet and serene this warmth is, too.

Cologne fills my senses as a hard solid cushion barricades me. Nuzzling in close, the nostalgic fondness of home draws a smile from my lips.

Images of Jerrick's face blur in my mind.

His face swirls and swishes away, converting into a room adorned in candlelight.

A beautiful vision of a couple sitting on a piano bench together, heads resting against one another. One, a woman with long silver-blonde locks, runs her hands up and down the entirety of the piano, laughing. In the other, a man with black shoulder-length hair loops an arm around her and scoots closer, lifting his head to kiss the top of the woman's. The vision is one of what I wish for in my own life, wishing I had the strength to utter those three precious, tenderly perfect words to a man who never once believed I was a monster.

A man who stole my breath away when I first laid eyes on him.

A man who stole my heart, connected my soul, and gave me the briefest of glimpses of finding my happy again...

I love you.

Darkness surrounds me as the phantom pain drifting through me dissipates. I revel in the void's embrace, descending into the abyss. Warmth blankets itself around me as I take in fuzzy auras that flash to life with familiar faces. Three familiar faces.

One female, long silver-platinum hair, eyes pale and blue like mine, holding the hand of another woman, whose dark strands matches that of the last person, a man, resting his hands on the two women's shoulders.

Warm, familiar hazel eyes come into focus, and my lips tremble.

"I'm home," I whisper, running into the arms of my mother, my father, and my sister.

The impact of my embrace has them all grunting. They wrap their arms around me, my father's wise, tender voice filling the darkness.

"You're home, dear."

I nuzzle into each of them, squeezing them as if they are my own air—my own breath.

A small flood of light beams from behind my family, forcing us to break apart. We turn, the light glowing and expanding, bright enough to fill and diminish the darkness surrounding us.

The lightest of white borders the warm yellow hues, reminding me of a crisp winter's snow or a soft, delicate cloud. As if the light knows my thoughts, the sensation of wind, cold and calm, floats across my face, blowing hair away from my vision.

The bright rays of light shine around us. I am in awe and filled with curiosity, desiring to explore this space.

My father holds my hand, squeezing it tight enough for my eyes to look up at him. His wrinkles are thick on his forehead, eyes, and cheeks from years of raised brows and full smiles.

He bends down, kissing my head before letting go and walking toward the rays of light.

A surge of his love vibrates through me, comforting me and soothing me with the promise of more hugs and reunions soon. He vanishes into the light, and a surprising comfort warms me.

I rub the heat in the center of my chest as my mother faces me.

"Thank you, my sweet girl," she says.

I tilt my head. "For what? Mother, why did you do all of this?"

She grins at Runa and me, pulling us close. "Because it is what the Makers wanted from me and from you."

I blink rapidly, not understanding her. "What did they want?" I keep a tight hold of her, needing answers.

"For you to be the start of helping us all find peace," she whispers before pulling away.

Her maternal love radiates as she kisses my cheeks, holding them and staring intently into my eyes. Tears line her vision, a direct reflection of me.

"I'll see you soon, my sweetheart," my mother whispers, looking at Runa and glancing back at me once more.

The right side of Mother's lip lifts, her hands drifting down my arms, lingering before she walks toward the light.

Runa laces her fingers with mine.

When I look down at our connection, my lip trembles at the soft circles she runs against my skin. And when I meet my sister's jade-green eyes, I am met with her beautiful smile.

Regret surges forth, my guilt and shame for ending her life leading me to avert my gaze as tears fall.

"I-I'm so sorry, Runa," I sob, covering my face.

My cries are the only sound between us, and I pour my heart and soul into repeated apologies, begging for her and the Makers' forgiveness.

Runa embraces me. "Tove, it's okay." She tries reassuring me, but the shame is too overwhelming. "There is nothing to forgive."

"H-How can you say that?" I ask, clutching her tight. "I am a monster."

She pulls us apart and inclines my head to look at her. "Tove, it was my fate. The Makers had spoken that day, as they do now."

I remember some of Runa's last words on that fateful day, not understanding. Still not understanding now. "Runa—"

"Tove."

I snivel, feeling unworthy as she helps dry my tears and holds my cheeks, as our mother did.

She combs my hair away from my face and holds my cheek. "There is no monster inside of you. There is no Snow Queen inside of you. Only Tove. Only my sister. My kind, passionate, inspiring sister who is sunshine itself."

I shake my head as my lip quivers, undeserving of her kindness. "Runa, you are the sunshine. I never have been."

"Your sunshine has always been there. You just struggle to see it. And while your light dimmed for a brief duration, you shone brightly again when you met him." She smiles.

Jerrick's features etch to life, and my heart fills with love and joy. A passion and bond deeper than I had imagined, a relationship I had hated but came to love.

I sigh at the memory of his eyes matching mine, his scar, and how it would perk up whenever he smirked or laughed. How he always tied his hair up when he was training. How he would rub my hand in soft circles…

Lifting my hand to inspect it, I swear a warm spot lingers where Jerrick would always comfort me.

Runa leans in, her voice pulling me from my thoughts. "Go to him."

I lift my brows.

She nods with pure joy in her features.

I look between her and the light and the tugging warmth in my palm. "I-I can't. He needs to find someone to break his curse. It is less of a mess without me."

Runa's soothing voice surrounds my senses. "You two were fated to meet. You were meant to break his curse, Tove."

My mouth falls. "Th-The curse is broken?"

Runa brightens and nods happily. "Yes."

"B-But how?"

"I think you know," she says, wiggling her eyebrows before taking one step back, then another.

Once more, she fades from my existence, this time shining bright, free of pain, and smiling. Our bond as sisters marks and instills love from her—love from my family—love for myself.

Her voice echoes, "Go be the sunshine. Go be the queen we know you to be. Go to your happy, Tove."