20 Chapter 20 – Snowbound Promise
She reached for his hand.
In silence.
She smiled. “You hear me now.”
In the way she once bled silver for him.
Then said quietly, “Sometimes I’m afraid you’ll disappear again. Like it was all a dream.”
Only two hands joined, fingers tangled in warmth.
Her presence moved like breath-barely audible, but felt with every part of him.
And softly-barely more than breath-she spoke:
He opened it.
He hesitated.
His eyes snapped to hers.
Behind him, footsteps padded softly.
For a moment, they just watched the snow fall in silence.
–
No drums. No banners. Just pale flakes tumbling from a silver sky, blanketing Frostfall in quiet grace.
The End
He reached into his coat and pulled out the old broken music box-its wood lovingly restored, though the melody still wheezed slightly.
Just his old traveling cloak and the froststeel braces at his knees, now quiet, almost ceremonial.
Eileen looked up at the sky.
.
She looked at him. Waited.
“I thought I’d never *want* to speak again,” she replied. “But your silence… was louder than the world.”
Of a prince who rose from ash to fight for her name.
She stood beside him, bundled in a midnight-blue cloak lined with wolf-fur. Her cheeks were flushed. Her lips slightly parted from effort.
–
“*Peace.*”
He refused.
They had already made them in fire.
She smiled softly.
He laughed, then choked. “You’re going to destroy me.”
Just them.
“No,” she said gently. “I came to rebuild you.”
Alive.
“I don’t have a crown,” he said. “But I have this.”
And as the music box wound down, playing the final crooked note-
“I thought I’d never hear you again,” he whispered.
And whispered, “You’ve had it since I was five.”
But she was awake.
And in the way he waited beside her breathless form for thirty nights without leaving.
He crushed her into his chest, snowflakes dissolving between them as his arms wrapped tightly around her.
She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes.
No ceremony. No audience. No throne.
Cyr stood alone on the palace terrace, breath clouding in the cold.
–
And she had walked here on her own.
Of a snowbound night where auroras crowned the sky and no crown touched a brow.
“The world keeps going. Even after everything.”
“My heart.”
He didn’t turn.
She stared down at him, blinking fast.
“Do you hear that?”
Of a girl who healed with song and silence.
She still tired easily.
Later, the wolves of Frostfall would whisper stories.
The song played.
She buried her face in his collar.
She dropped to her knees.
He didn’t have to.
He held out his hand.
Cyr leaned close. “What?”
Took it.
They didn’t need vows.
The first snow of winter came softly.
She tilted her head.
The healers had offered to remove them.
“Then hold on to me.”
Then Cyr whispered, “It’s strange.”
Moments later, he knelt in the snow.
And the girl who gave him reason to try.
He wore no crown.
His mouth trembled.
“I don’t want to rule anyone,” he continued. “Not anymore. But I’d give you the only thing that still matters?”
He still remembered the boy who couldn’t stand without them.
