Chapter 4
My dreams were horrible, filled with cold caves and empty fireplaces that taunted me with the memories of their warmth.
I dreamed that I was back home in Rothen, but everything had been frozen over and covered in heaping piles of snow.
I tried to claw my way to the castle gates, desperate to find Mother and Emaline to ensure they were safe.
My hands stopped working after a few attempts, and I looked down at my fingers to see that they were turning to ash.
No... No!
My eyes popped open, my breathing short and painful as I slowly came to my senses. How long had I been asleep? Was it morning yet? I looked around the room, stunned to find that I was completely alone.
There were no people. No more supplies. No fire. And something cold was hanging around my wrists.
Chains...
My heart plummeted into my gut as I raised the silver shackles, unable to even take a breath. I was leaned up against a support pillar that I definitely didn’t fall asleep against. The awful chains had been secured around it, sealing me in place despite the fact that I could barely move.
He...he left me?
I felt like I was going to be sick, but my stomach was too empty to bring anything up. I tugged on the chains, the cold metal too awful to touch for even a moment. After everything Blamore had said to me... All I’d done for his people, for us. He abandoned me.
And now he’s going to take Rothen.
“No...” I whispered, my throat parched and raspy. “No, no! Blamore!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, pulling on the chains with the last strength I had. If anyone was left, surely they would hear me. “Blamore! Come back! You can’t leave me here!”
I struggled hopelessly, my legs not even flinching as my core could hardly put in any effort.
Even without my illness, I couldn’t break through steel, but my rage didn’t prevent me from trying.
I thrashed relentlessly, bruising my wrists enough that I could feel the pain through the spreading paralysis.
Tears sprung from my eyes at some point, but despite my anger, not even those were hot.
They froze along my cheeks, stinging my skin like the slow slice of a razor.
“Please.” I planned to scream the word, but in truth I don’t even know if it was audible. “Don’t leave me here to die alone.”
I thought you loved me.
My heart splintered, scattering like shattered ice as I recalled all the moments he’d pretended to care. He knew I was dying, so it made sense why I would be the sacrifice, but that was no excuse for being a cold-blooded liar.
Was it all just manipulation from the start?
I took in a shaky breath, my entire body trembling from the cold and rage.
Everything was so cold… My boots, my nose, and even the air that filled my lungs seemed to freeze me from the inside out.
I raised my rotting fingers to my eyes, my throat tightening as I saw ice crystals forming on my nail beds.
My fingers barely moved, and when I could convince them to make a motion, I almost feared they would snap off at the knuckles.
The empty fireplace taunted me, causing me to hallucinate the sparkle of flames that I knew weren’t there.
I narrowed my eyes on the strange glittering, spotting what appeared to be shards of glass twinkling among the ashes.
Another broken mirror hidden away from view, likely thrown into the fire by a rageful prince.
I leaned back against the pillar I was chained to, my eyes still watering as I imagined it being a most uncomfortable coffin. My cloak felt useless with how cold it was, but I wrapped myself as tightly as I could, praying it would protect my body enough for my family to identify it one day.
That was when I felt something in the pocket.
The matches!
My hope rekindled as I recalled the tiny box that I’d kept close to me for over a month now. I’d been planning to offer them to someone who needed them, but after Blamore confined me to the palace, I never got a chance. I supposed I was the one who needed them the most now.
My wrist struggled to obey my commands, fidgeting with my cloak for a long moment before I found my way inside the pocket. The smooth box felt so familiar, and my fingers tingled with the slightest bit of anticipation as I pulled it out to inspect.
Too impatient to wait for my fingers to respond, I pulled the box open with my teeth and stared inside at my three greatest treasures.
There was no way for me to light the match without my fingers, so I moved slowly and carefully, teasing the first match free with shaking movements until I was able to wrap my whole fist around it and hold it steady.
It took a couple of tries to strike the match with my limited movement, but after the third attempt the sound of fire catching met my ears like the sweetest music ever played.
It’s so warm.
Fire danced at the tip of the match, the glow almost ethereal in the cold, dark room. Its warmth kissed my nose, sending ripples across my frozen cheeks as I soaked in every moment of its light.
“I wish this warmth would last,” I whispered to the tiny flame. “If only for a moment.”
The flame burned out, the smoke wafting away into the air as quickly as it had come. I closed my eyes, waiting for the cold to consume me, but the cozy presence of the little flame kept me company for as long as it could.
I don’t know if I was hallucinating, or if that one match had been enough to heat the whole room, but for just that moment, I was warm.
And then the moment ended.
The cold engulfed me again, removing all the peace I’d just gained from the match. I struggled to pick up another match until I’d successfully ensnared the second one. I struck it next, feeling my spirits lift as the tiny stream of smoke rose into the air.
It was a good thing Blamore hadn’t bothered to check my pockets.
The matches may not have lasted long on their own, but they could easily start a big enough fire to cook a meal or warm a campsite.
Unfortunately, there was nothing left in this room for me to burn, and even if there was, I couldn’t reach it.
My eyes drifted past the flame and over toward the empty fireplace as I longed for a way to fill it with warmth.
If I hadn’t been chained, then I could have burned the fabric covering over the mirror, or even my own cloak if I could get it off my body.
The flame began to dim, and I silently begged it not to go so soon. If only Blamore had left me even a scrap of food, I could have warmed it with this little flame and enjoyed one more meal.
“Please stay...” I begged the little fire. “Oh, how I wish you could stick around until I found something to eat.”
My eyes were fully focused on the flame, but in that moment, something magical happened. The flame dimmed in my vision as my eyes took in an astonishing scene that couldn’t be anything short of a dream.
The empty table that the men had cleared off every scrap from was now completely covered in platters of warm food.
“W-what?” I lowered the match, blinking until I was certain that it was real, or at least really convincing.
Mugs of piping hot drinks lined one side, with a full roast pig steaming in the center.
Plates full of fresh bread taunted me with their yeasty aroma and the glisten of their buttered crusts.
I tried to shift closer to get a better look, but my chains forbade me from going any further.
Bowls of soup that were so hot they were still steaming tortured me as I watched the steam dance above them like northern lights.
Had I died already? Was this heaven?
I tugged on my chains again, but once again, the meal was just out of reach.
I take it back, this must be hell.
I reached for the nearest object I could find, grabbing an old silver candlestick to try and throw at the table.
I had hoped that I could knock something off so that it would fall within my reach, but my poor motor coordination sent the candlestick flying past the table and into one of the covered wall mirrors.
The mirror fell to the floor with a crash, knocking the cover partially off and sending silver glass shards everywhere.
Drat.
My mouth salivated for just one sip of that scalding soup, but before I could even dream of putting a spoon to my tongue, the entire meal vanished into a puff of smoke.
“Huh?’ I looked down at the match in my hand, the fire freshly burned out like it had taken the meal with it.
My mind whirled as the scent of hot cider and bread still lingered in the room with the wafts of smoke.
That had been real... “Did—did you grant my wish?” I asked the match, my hand shaking even harder now.
“I wish you could stick around until I found something to eat.”
“You left after I found food,” I said to the dead match, my voice full of awe. “And you!” I looked at the first match I had already burnt through. “You granted my wish to stay warm for a moment!”
It wasn’t possible... Yet, I knew magic was real, but was it this real?
I looked down at the final match, its worth suddenly more than I could ever describe. My fingers barely managed to grasp the tiny thing, my hand growing limper by the minute after so many attempts to make my dying muscles perform.
There was no promise that I’d be able to strike the match if I waited much longer, but if this was real... I needed to think through my wish.
My breathing grew tight, my body struggling to keep up with my excitement as it hardly had the strength to keep my heart beating. I wasn’t going to live to see tomorrow at this rate, or even the next hour, not unless I did something about it now.
I looked into the broken reflection of the fallen mirror, wondering if the villain Blamore feared so much could see me now. If he did, then at least I wouldn’t be dying alone.
I struck the match, my frozen lips barely moving as I made use of my last breath. “I wish I could have been a better queen.”
And then my heart stopped beating.