Chapter 2 Neve
I’m still not entirely sure how, but my mother speaks to me in my dreams.
“Just a little longer, Neve,” she says, her voice drifting through my head. It’s strange, once I learned how to move through lucid dreaming, I realized I can control certain things, but no matter what I do, I cannot wake up. “When it’s safe, you’ll come back to us.”
I can tell the difference between when Mother speaks to me and the figures my head creates. When it’s truly my mother, her voice drifts from somewhere I can’t see, and when I try to imagine opening my eyes or using my magic where her voice carries from, it never works.
With or without her presence, I cannot escape this odd prison. At first, it was scary, but only for the first few days. It’s hard to discern time when it feels like none passes from one conversation with my mother to the next, but time is passing. I’m just not certain how much.
Licking my lips, I can feel my dream body doing the action, but also sense my awake body not doing anything. Sometimes I feel my real eyes fluttering, like I’m trying to wake from this dream, but I never fully get there.
“Wake me up now,” I say, pressing my hands to my hips. I stare at the ceiling of the imaginary palace, the familiar icy halls doing nothing to comfort me. It can’t be when none of this is real. “I can help. Whatever’s happened at home, Mother, I can assist. That’s why you made me queen.”
Mother’s voice takes many moments to float through my mind again. “Not yet, Your Grace. Things are not going as planned. Your safety must be guaranteed.”
I scoff, glaring at the empty space around me. Sometimes I conjure up memories of people, but I’ve long since given up on holding a conversation with them. If everything here is but a memory or a dream, aren’t I just talking to myself?
“I need to help you,” I hiss, pacing the length of the hall. “I can find the man who killed Father, Mother. You need only let me help. He could be long gone by now! How many days have passed? This sleep cannot save me.”
She’s quiet, and it only incites my rage. I’m not sure she can even hear me like this. How putting me to sleep is helping, I don’t know. Is it supposed to keep me safe? But I know the truth, and I refuse to lie here uselessly.
“Your Majesty, the procession is ready to begin.”
Glancing up from my reflection, I look at my mother’s friend in the mirror. Only three days have passed since that man, Ban, escaped the palace dungeons. And, as he left, he stole my father’s life.
We’re laying the King to rest today. The guiding hand of my father, the man I needed to help me learn to rule, is gone. And with my mother's curse growing stronger by the day, I worry about the future of my kingdom. They gave me the title of Queen before I was mentally prepared.
“Is the Dowager Queen ready?” I ask, standing from the vanity. My handmaid helped brush my hair, but the chignon she attempted to pull my dark hair into didn’t hold. I’ve pulled the pins out, letting my short locks cascade down, barely brushing my shoulders. “It takes her the longest to prepare.”
Turning, I eye Lady Hartsell. The moment news of the King’s passing caught the ears of the rich, the news spread fast. I don’t believe Mother shared it with Lady Hartsell directly, but all of a sudden she appeared in the palace, offering comfort and solace to Mother and me.
For a moment, my eyes flash to the large red stone on her finger. Surprise shoots through me, momentarily distracting me from the sadness. “Did the King propose?”
She glances down shyly, but I notice there’s no blush to her cheeks. There’s no redness at all, despite the cold. Unlike myself and my mother, Lady Hartsell doesn’t possess any magic. It’s fairly unheard of outside of royals and the nobility. Yet she doesn’t look a touch cold at all.
“The King of Diamonds asked for my hand,” she explains, smiling fondly. It seems a strange thing to announce at a funeral, but she covers the ring with her opposite hand. “He asked before we knew of King Andor’s demise.”
Wincing, I nod. “We won’t make a big deal of it, my lady. You’ll be queen soon?”
“Yes,” she replies, throwing me a smile. Unlike the softness from before, this one’s sharp, less excited and more forced. “Queen of the Court of Cards. If only your father were here for the good news.”
Father’s death still aches in my chest. I don’t know if Ban intended to deliver a killing blow, but he did. Our combined attack speared Father with ice before throwing him into the wall. He died while the mage escaped, and I’ll never forgive him for it.
We used our magic together, and I’ve regretted it ever since. Good looks and the strain of taking the throne blinded me. I never should have let the man get so close to me. I wanted to deflect the attacks my parents threw at us, not deliver a fatal blow.
In the days that followed the King’s passing, I don’t believe anyone took the news as hard as me. Mother’s grief was quick, and she made all the plans for his funeral as I stood by like the figurehead monarch I was.
Since no one asked me to handle anything the last few days, I had been plotting my revenge.
But then, just before Father’s funeral, I felt unwell and needed to sit down.
Somehow, I fell asleep, and the next thing I knew, I woke up like this.
Mother claims it’s to keep me safe from something happening in the real world, but what, I can’t say.
“Mother?” I call when she doesn’t respond. Sometimes she does that, leaving me without a goodbye. I wait, hoping she will say something to soothe my fears.
Only silence greets me.
Frustrated, I run down the empty hall, through the empty castle, into the empty courtyard, off into the frozen, empty hills.
That’s the only constant in this frozen dream. It’s empty, save for me.
I keep going, nothing but thoughts and memories to keep me company. I’m sick of being stuck here like this, toiling away for however long. All it does is let my anger toward Ban fester, and when I see him again, I’m going to make him pay the price.
A life for a life. He stole my father’s, so I’ll be taking his.
I keep going until a stabbing pain hits my finger, and I growl in frustration before collapsing into the fake, powdery earth. I lie there until the sting ebbs away.
I don’t know what it is, and it’s little more than an irritation, but it’s happened over and over again. Not all the time, and not always when Mother speaks to me. Sometimes the pain in my finger happens and I’m still all alone.
I just don’t understand it.
After rolling over in the snow, I glare up at the sky. If I use my ice powers to vault higher and higher, the sky will go on forever. I tried that once to get out of this dreamscape, and it did nothing for me.
“This dream comes to an end soon.”
Startled, I throw my arms back and call upon my ice powers, glaring off in the direction of the voice. For all the time I’ve been trapped here, I’ve never heard a voice I didn’t recognize.
And the figure standing across from me isn’t one I recall.
Against the whites and pale blues of the landscape, he’s a stark contrast with a dark, black cloak that billows in the wind. All of his clothing is the same, a dreary color, and he has ashen hands.
Jumping up, my skirt tangles against my legs as I throw myself into motion. Finally, finally, something is happening that I can fight. “Who are you?”
He doesn’t remove the cloak, and the shadows of the wide hood hide his face. It’s somewhat discerning after spending so much time alone, and I peek at the sky to see if anything's changed. It’s still the same endless white. “We’ve only met once, a long time ago.”
“I’m Queen Neve of the Frostlands,” I tell him, lifting my chin. Even as I draw the ice in around me, creating a barrier, he doesn’t flinch. He doesn't do anything. “I know many people.”
His head tilts up and down once beneath the bobbing hood, and I think he’s nodding at me. “I knew you briefly before your coronation, Your Majesty. We met in passing when your parents visited the Court of Cards.”
I almost laugh, wondering if I happened to conjure this person from my mind. “So you’re one of the many subjects beneath the King of Diamonds? Speak plainly, your riddles mean nothing here.”
He sweeps his hands wide, and I expect some sort of attack.
I’m prepared for magic, given that he’s here, in my dreams, but nothing happens.
He doesn’t even draw a weapon. “Many things have passed in the years since we met, Queen Neve. The King of Diamonds is long since gone. Perhaps that is where you will remember me from.”
The man draws back his hood, and I’m prepared for something truly horrific. Without Mother’s voice to ground me, it feels like I’m going into a challenge all alone.
I half expect him to turn out to be the ice mage Ban, my sinister side peeking out when I consider that perhaps he’s lost some of that prettiness since killing the king.
But the man staring at me as the hood falls is familiar and has nothing to do with the King Killer. “You. You’re the Sandman.”
I expect some sort of response, like “I knew you would remember me” or “Good eye, everyone always mistakes me for my brother.”
“A name long forgotten,” the man says, his gray skin fighting against the bright, almost golden lights of his eyes. “That’s who I once was, in another time.”
“Another time?” I grumble, keeping my hands out in front of me. He might be a face I recognize, but I do not trust him. “I met you a few months ago in the Court of Cards, as you said.”
The Sandman gives me a grim smile. “As I said, yes. That was many moons ago, Neve. Your mother’s kept you asleep for years now, silenced by the curse of the frozen sleep.”
I blink at him, trying to decide whether I’ve heard him right, and a hysterical laugh bubbles up in my throat. One hand moves to cover my mouth, but I can’t stop the noise.
Years? He needs to be serious.
“I understand this isn’t the news you expected me to share, but I have long since searched for a way to speak with you. As time trudges on, the spell cast upon you weakens with your mother’s magic.”
“My mother?” I breathe, stepping closer to him. My hands fall to my sides, worries forgotten. “Something’s happened to her?”
He studies me for a moment, an eerie silence cascading over us. “Before I met you, Neve Glacia, I met another from the Frostlands. The woman who married into my family. The one who deceived you and your mother both.”
“I don’t understand,” I hiss, getting even closer. Part of me thinks he might fade into nothing and prove that my mind is really playing games on me. “Who has deceived Mother? Someone vying for the crown while I lie here, useless?”
The Sandman shakes his head, stepping away. “A face you will remember from the past, but she is not who she seems to be.”
As the wind picks up, he begins to fade. Burning rage shoots through me, and before I can stop myself, I’m thrusting my hands toward him, letting my magic free. “Come back here and answer my questions, you coward!”