The princess was dead, or as close to it as possible.

Grimhelde folded Eirwen's cold hands one over the other and gently slid the comb into her hair. It would slowly release the poison into her blood over time and keep her asleep. One day it would run out but Eirwen would be too weak to take any retribution by then. Maybe there would even be a proper cure by then. It was a silly idea, the only way to truly stop a blutsauger was to kill it.

Looking at the sleeping girl, she still couldn't find it in her to finish the job. Her breath came and went in a slow steady rhythm. "My little snow apple, sweet dreams," Grimhelde whispered, choking on a sob. She kissed her forehead and stumbled to her feet.

Outside, the sun was still bright, the flowers were still opening for spring. Everything carried on as usual. The mages would be back soon and they'd mourn their little princess. They would give her a proper burial as well. Sadness threatened to overwhelm Grimhelde as she thought about Eirwen trapped in a hole below ground forever. It would be so cold and lonely.

Grimhelde took a final look at the cottage she'd spent two long years searching for. It looked so small on the outside. This was the last place she'd have expected Eirwen to run to. The girl had spent most of her life in the castle, pampered by servants for the first half of her life. Even when they'd gone she'd still had the security of a safe place to rest every night.

Now this would be her final resting place.

She pulled her cloak hood over her head and turned away. Between the emotional turmoil and the magic expended in keeping herself safe from the comb's poison, Grimhelde was feeling worn out. She decided to conserve her magic for protection rather than use it all just to return home a little longer.

After an hour of stumbling through the trees she realized she should have teleported herself home. She'd taken a wrong turn and every tree looked so dreadfully similar to each other. The castle came into view here and there but always dropped out of sight when she felt she'd made progress. Grimhelde reached out with her magic, intending to set the forest aflame. The fire would burn until not a single damn tree remained.

The dark magic ripped foreword from her hand to wrap the tree in a hellish fire. It raced up the trunk and into the leaves and then... it was gone. Only a faint outline of drifting smoke remained. The tree remained completely intact.

"Magic," Grimhelde hissed. No doubt the forest was enchanted to keep her wandering and contained. She scoffed and pushed her sleeves off to reveal her slender forearms. It was the same magic they had used to keep her from searching them out with her mirror. She'd gotten through that and she would get through this.

A wave of magic welled up within her, pushing at the physical boundaries of her body. It writhed and twisted with her frenzied anger. Just as she reached out to force her way through the enchantments, Ryker stepped out.

The huntsman had been absent since she'd knocked him unconscious the day before. She'd come out later in the day, intending to throw him in the dungeons. He'd been gone by the time she went to find him. Now he stood before her, crossbow drawn and held up in one hand. The other hand wielded a dagger. Its sharp edge glinted in the light.

"Go back and help her," he commended. Ice seemed to coat his every word. "You will not leave her to die, you heartless witch."

Grimhelde was taken aback. He'd been more bold as of late but to stand against her with weapons drawn was too far. The magic she'd summoned begged to be released. The longer she held it, the more violent it became. "You know I can't do that. This has always been the plan from the beginning. I was a fool to think she would be different from her mother just because she was a child."

"She is different," Ryker snapped.

"No! She isn't, and just because she's never killed anyone doesn't mean she never would. I kept my eye on her as long as I could but I am still only a mortal. One day I'll die and who will keep her in line then?" Grimhelde argued. A flicker of magic escaped her control and this time the tree it hit did go up in flames. The black fire engulfed the tree but didn't have the power to spread. Even still, it reduced the tree to ash in minutes.

Ryker flinched away from the fire and she struck. Magic wrapped around his body and tightened like a vice. It dug into his veins, burning him from the inside. He dropped to his knees but was kept upright by the sheer force of the magic coursing through him.

The enchantment began to fall away in the presence of the dark magic. It was just enough for Grimhelde to see through the thick cover of trees. She'd been circling the castle this whole time and realized Ryker must have been waiting nearby, unless he'd followed her the whole way and back. He really had known where she was and had kept it a secret.

Grimhelde walked towards the large iron gate, pausing by Ryker who writhed in pain. "You see, I, above anyone, know you can run from your past but you can never escape your true nature. I tried so hard to leave my family and their demands, but in the end I became just like them. Eirwen would have become just like her mother sooner or later. I only saved her the heartache of seeing herself turn into a monster."

She swept by him and heard him fall into the hard dirt floor as the magic left him. It wouldn't be long now until he was as cold as Eirwen. The magic she'd used would rip his life from him bit by bit, giving him just enough time to contemplate his betrayal.

Cold silence greeted her when she pushed open the heavy double doors of the castle. This was the first time she'd felt so alone in the castle. No one remained to see her sink to her knees or to see the tears that streamed down her face like blood from a wound.