Author's note: Frost is back!

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Kyla sighed.

After meeting with a troll that just announced he had willingly attempted to assassinate her, she believed a bit of rest was not too much to ask for.

However, Alf had been a faithful servant for a long while now, and maybe it was time to reveal the skeletons in her closet to him, especially if it put him in potential danger as well.

Beckoning him over, she led Alf through the winding corridors of the dungeon to a secret staircase that she surmised had been used by the nobility to keep an eye on the prisoners. Looking perplexed, he eyed her warily as she pushed through the door, climbing the narrow steps in haste to reach her destination-the grand parlor.

Or what was left of it, anyways.

The once-opulent rich velvet fabric of the rosewood chaise lounge sported stains from a bygone era, while the cerulean window curtains that remained appeared faded in contrast to the pearl white tint of the snow-covered walls. A petite mahogany sideboard bridged the gap between the couch and the rest of the dilapidated space, separating a past portrait of elegance from a pathetic excuse of display on the other side.

She had chosen this specific place though due to one major factor.

The first being that the grand parlor was one of the only rooms in the entire castle left completely intact. It had once been a fortress built for some Swedish count or another but had burned down in an awful fire years ago and been left vacant ever since. Most of the fortress was in ruins save for the lower levels that somehow survived the virulent flames.

As the self-proclaimed Lady of Ice, although the villagers still called her Ice Queen to her disbelief, of course, she had no qualm with the cold, but simply did not wish to fight to be heard above the tearing gale that blew through these lands.

Knowing Alf as she rightly did, he was sure to ask questions upon questions, and it would be convenient to be sitting down in a comfortable place whilst answering them.

In addition to her comfort being sated, the parlor housed a massive roaring fireplace that would make quite a nice backdrop to her story.

Her decision to choose this room did not have anything to do with Alf not being as immune to the cold as she was.

Not a bit.

Alf stood across from her, on the aforementioned other side, a chair on either side of him, and he dared not to rest a single finger on the iron one lest it burn him.

Feeling empathy towards his feet, she motioned for him to lay down on the chair featuring carvings of spritely leaves shooting up through the dark oak wood.

He sat down quietly, which only convinced her that his voracious curiosity was drowning out his usual insistent talking. His loud mouth had not made a single peep since before ascending the steps from the castle dungeon.

Knowing that if she prolonged his wait, he might actually entertain the thought of speaking up, she started stroking the soft plush armchair cushion and said, "Before I tell you of my origin, I need to know what you have heard from the other servants first."

He looked at her curiously, until she explained, "I wish not to repeat things that have already been conveyed to your ears...at least, if there the truth, that is."

Alf replied, "I would not be prodding into such a...sensitive issue if I did indeed know your tale."

"Good. I mean, with what the townsfolk have been saying lately, you probably would have been misinformed with falsehoods on how...let me think... I am a demon in the form of a woman who came to be prowling about the tundra because some poor blubbering fool decided to make a deal with the devil to bring his wife back, or something like that."

"That is...very specific, but not unheard for the villagers to spread tales like that to scare their kin into staying put during midwinter blizzard nights such as these," Alf responded back in turn.

"Exactly! Who would believe such a...fantasy?", she muttered under her breath, only to realize that evil female vixen was not so distant a concept from her present reality after all if northern mountain elves such as Alf existed.

"Well, it was...near the start of winter, I think, when a knock came upon my family's home in the late evening. Now, my family lived in an oak cabin in a dark wood, alright?"

Alf started, "How is that..."

"SHUSH!", she said, then continued on.

"So when a lumbering 6-foot creature appears standing on the other side of the door with sharp elongated talons that could tear down our door like wallpaper, it took all I had in me not to scream out in terror. Luckily, or unluckily I wager, my father had woken up from his slumber, raced from his quarters with his trusty axe, and shoved the axe in between me and the beast."

Kyla's eyes began to mist up as the memory of that event started to replay in her mind. She almost felt as if was there-facing the creature in her nightgown while her father stood his ground.

"When it began to talk, my mother, who at this point had hid a knife up her skirt, softened and prevented my father from attacking the beast. All my family had woken up at this point, so my younger sisters crowded around me to take a look at the white bear that could speak like a man! How odd and fascinating this must have seemed to them, something new and exciting away from our normal routine. I mean, it was like that to me, until we went downstairs, and night fell."

"For lo and behold! A young man now stood in our midst, where there had been a white bear! My mother was so awestruck she even invited him to eat the remainder of our supper!", she recounted.

"What did he look like?", Alf inquired.

"He was darker in complexion than you, Alf, with tan skin, raven hair and eyes as dark as the mahogany that sideboard in the middle is made out of. To this day, I do not think he, at least originally, came from these lands."

"Where did he come from then?"

"I do not know, but if what the troll said is correct, he must be the Winter Sorceress's stepson."

"But... if he asked for your hand..."

"Yes?"

Alf then asked the query he wanted an answer for more than any other question he could recall asking her.

"How did you end up as the Ice Queen?"

Before she could answer, the little girl from earlier burst into the room and whispered into Kyla's ear, leaving her momentarily speechless.

Fortunately, she quickly regained her wits and dragged Alf out of his seat.

"Someone is at the door."