Gwendolyn had expected to be greeted by the remnants of the swirling lights that had enveloped her moments ago. But instead, she found herself immersed in utter darkness. Not a single sliver of light pierced the veil that surrounded her.

Confusion enveloped Gwendolyn, seeping into every fiber of her being. The impenetrable darkness surrounding her left her disoriented and unsure of her next move. The absence of any visual cues or points of reference intensified her sense of bewilderment, casting a fog over her thoughts.

Her mind raced. How did she end up in this bewildering darkness? What was the purpose behind this unexpected turn in her journey? Was there a way out, or was she trapped indefinitely? Was this her punishment for seeking answers to questions no one was willing to ask?

Gwendolyn's thoughts swirled in a tangled web, as she struggled to make sense of her predicament. She reached out into the darkness, her hands desperately seeking something tangible to anchor herself. But all she encountered was empty space, a void that mirrored the confusion within her.

Time seemed to lose its grip in the suffocating darkness, stretching moments into eternity. 

Her hands spread over the softness atop which she rested. Silky fabric greeted her rough, numb fingers and she sunk deeper before springing upright at the sound of footsteps.

As Gwendolyn's hands spread over the softness atop which she rested — one that yielded beneath her touch. Her rough, numb fingers sank into the plushness. A fleeting moment of comfort washed over her as she sank deeper into the soft surface, seeking solace in its embrace.

However, her tranquility was abruptly shattered by the distinct sound of footsteps echoing as they seemed to be headed her way. Gwendolyn's senses sharpened, her body tensing with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

Springing upright, she strained her ears, trying to discern the origin and nature of the footsteps. The sound grew closer, their rhythm steady and purposeful. Her heartbeat quickened.

Could it be a fellow traveler lost in the darkness? Or was it something more sinister, a threat lurking in the shadows? She couldn't be certain, but she refused to let fear paralyze her.

Gwendolyn's instincts urged her to take action, to prepare herself for whatever lay ahead. She rose to her feet with a sense of urgency. Every step she took felt like a hesitant stumble, as uncertainty clouded her path. The weight of confusion bore down on her shoulders, threatening to immobilize her.

As Gwendolyn pressed her back against the wall, she found solace in its solid presence, drawing strength from its support. Her hands outstretched before her, she inched forward cautiously

With her hands stretched out in front of her, Gwendolyn inched forward cautiously until she came in contact with a wall. Finding solace in its solid presence, she pressed her back to it and steeled herself, drawing strength from its support and summoning her courage to face the unknown. There was no time to look for a place to hide for it was pitch black.

The footsteps that had echoed through the void had finally ceased, leaving an eerie silence in their wake. Time seemed to stretch as she waited, her senses attuned to the slightest sound.

Then, a knock pierced the stillness, followed by a muffled greeting.

The door, previously hidden in the impenetrable darkness, creaked open, allowing a faint stream of light to pierce through the gloom. Gwendolyn squinted, her eyes adjusting to the sudden illumination.

As the light spilled into the room, revealing shapes and contours, Gwendolyn saw a figure standing at the threshold. Their features were still obscured by the shadows, but the presence exuded a sense of reassurance. A feminine voice, warm and inviting, reached her ears, dissolving some of her apprehension.

"It's time to rise, Lady Gwendolyn."

Despite her perplexion, Gwendolyn stepped forward, her hands still outstretched. How did the stranger know her name? Why was she calling her a lady?

However, before she could voice her thoughts, someone stirred from the bed where she'd been moments ago.

Gwendolyn held her breath at the familiar voice and listened to the old woman's rich laughter as she entered the room and closed the door, returning it to its previous state of darkness.

A petulant groan slipped out from the lady's mouth as a reply while flames flickered to life in the fireplace. She stirred from the bed, stretched her limbs, and engaged in conversation with Sophia.

"Must you always sleep in the cold, my lady?"

Gwendolyn stared at the woman, sitting in the middle of a grand canopy bed that dominated the room's center, its intricately carved posts reaching toward theceiling. She looked dainty and gorgeous in her flimsy nightgown — the feminine version of what she could've become if not for abandonment and harsh, unforgiving winters. Was she dreaming?

"Cold? What nonsense are you spouting on this fine morning, Sophia? It's most warm when it's dark and fireless, befitting a queen of ice."

Sophia flung open rich layers of curtains. Soft, golden light filtered through tall, draped windows, casting a warm glow that embraced every corner.

"A ridiculous title. You're the warmest person I've ever met."

"If only my parents thought the same as you, Sophia."

Gwendolyn's mind spun as she observed the scene unfold before her. The familiarity of the voices and the mention of her name stirred a whirlwind of emotions within her. Was this some sort of dream or a figment of her imagination? How could these individuals be unaware of her presence while she stood right in the middle of the room?

However, no one even glimpsed her way or acknowledged her existence. It was as if she wasn't truly there. Had she died and become a ghost? It couldn't be. How come she was watching herself at this moment being taken care of by a gentle old woman?

And so, she watched as Sophia tended to the lady's needs, draping a warm shawl over her delicate shoulders.  It was a stark contrast to Gwendolyn's own experiences, where warmth and comfort were luxuries she rarely encountered.

Gwendolyn's hand instinctively reached out to touch the fabric of her own worn clothing. The dichotomy between her own reality and the perceived luxury surrounding the lady heightened her sense of displacement.

She took a tentative step forward, hoping to bridge the gap between her and the unfolding scene.

However, as she approached, the lady and Sophia continued their conversation oblivious to other futile attempts at catching their attention. It became clear that they did not see or hear her as if she were a mere observer in a world not her own.

Sophia continued her expert, diligent work as she bathed, dressed, and styled a pouting Gwendolyn, the childish, spoiled version of her if raised with parents that didn't abandon her. 

A flicker of jealousy burned in her aching heart before she smothered it as frustration took its place. She wanted to be seen, to have her voice heard and her questions answered. But for now, it seemed that she was destined to remain an unseen witness to the lives of others.

❄️❄️❄️👑❄️❄️❄️

Gwendolyn trudged behind the lady who was now dressed properly in a golden gown that wrapped around her feminine figure. The rich version of her strolled leisurely on her way to greet the guests. 

Her gaze shifted, taking in the grandeur of the castle's interior, her eyes adjusting to the dimly lit surroundings before they widened in awe as she took in the opulence of the space. It was wide and open. The air was infused with a sense of history and power, and every corner seemed to whisper tales of bygone eras. The walls rose high, adorned with ornate tapestries depicting heroic battles and noble figures. Their vibrant colors and intricate designs added a touch of elegance and storytelling to the place.

The floors, made of polished marble or intricate mosaic patterns, echoed with the hushed footsteps of those who walked upon them.

The place brimmed with life, unlike the village where she grew up.

Gwendolyn slowed by the entrance, taking in the spacious room they had just entered. Her gaze, however, couldn't move away from a man that stood erect and confident, his shoulders broad and strong, radiating a sense of power and authority. He wore attire befitting his status, a finely tailored suit that accentuated his form and emphasized his elegance. 

His features, chiseled and handsome, seemed to be carved by an artist's hand, captivating anyone who dared to meet his gaze. His dark eyes glinted with mischief and promised heartache. Yet, the woman approached him with a flirtatious sway of her hips with ice-blue eyes that twinkled with a playful charm.

"Locrinus," she purred, resting her hand atop his chest. "It has been a while."

He placed his gloved hand atop hers, bending slightly so only she could hear. "Indeed, my love. Walk with me."

With her hand nestled in the crook of Locrinus' elbow, he guided them both out and into the garden. Gwendolyn stumbled behind them, driven by a strange need to witness their meeting.

As they strolled along the winding paths, the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers embraced them, and the gentle whisper of leaves rustling in the breeze created a soothing symphony.

Colorful blooms adorned the landscape, their vibrant petals reaching toward the heavens. Roses, with their velvety softness, exuded an intoxicating scent, while delicate lilies danced gracefully in the dappled sunlight. The air was alive with the gentle hum of bees and the melodious chirping of birds.

Gwendolyn felt out of place, puzzled about how to react to such a strange scene she's never encountered before. Was this what the villagers spoke of? Fragrant and colorful flowers? Endless green and fluttering butterflies? Singing birds and buzzing bees?

Her mouth agape, she feasted on the unfamiliar scene that seemed straight out of a fairytale while still keeping up with the woman and her lover as they paused at a tranquil fountain, its waters cascading down in a mesmerizing display.

"Marry me, Gwendolyn."

As both the woman and she gasped, light burst and enveloped her yet again. Gwendolyn found herself falling, falling, falling until her body slammed hard into the ground, knocking the air out of her lungs.

There was no time to wallow in pain, however, when faint sobs reached her ears. Scrambling to her feet, Gwendolyn sought to soothe the crying person and ease their pain.

Only it was her, the unfamiliar, familiar woman from earlier.

"I have offered my crown, my lands, my everything...to you. Yet, you claim to love another. I have loved you with my entire soul. I have only given...and you have only taken."

"I never loved you, Gwendolyn," Locrinus declared, his voice filled with callousness and indifference. "Our marriage was a mere convenience, a means to secure my position on the throne. I never had any intention of sharing my heart or my life with you."

Locrinus's words cut through the air like a sharp blade, piercing Gwendolyn's heart with a searing pain that reverberated through her entire being. As he looked into his wife's tear-filled eyes, his voice carried a cold and distant tone, devoid of any remorse or compassion.

Gwendolyn stood there, frozen in disbelief, her world crumbling around her. The weight of his words pressed upon her, threatening to crush her spirit. The love she had believed in, the dreams of a shared future, now lay shattered at her feet. She struggled to comprehend how the person she had trusted so completely could be capable of such betrayal.

"My parents have chosen you over me, you say?"

Mockery sparkled in his eyes, irking her to no end.

"Naturally. We had to join hands, sacrifice a little for a greater purpose."

"Sacrifice? A little?"

"You were a nuisance they needed to take care of, or at least use to strengthen their position as well." 

"A nuisance?" Her voice broke. "I thought...I loved you. I have done everything for you."

A silver dagger shone in his hand as he slithered her way. "Indeed, you have. Now, my dear wife, die for me."

Treacherous droplets slithered her sticky cheeks as a gasp emanated from her rosy lips when he drove the blade deep into her heart.

Gwendolyn sunk to her knees, her hands covering her mouth at the horrific scene before her.

A crack resonated.

The dagger slowly turned to ice before it lay shattered and strewn next to the woman's lifeless figure.

The atmosphere grew icy, and a cold draft swept through the room, causing Gwendolyn's breath to crystallize before her eyes. She watched in disbelief as the once warm and familiar surroundings turned into a frozen abyss.

The cracking of ice resounded, echoing through the halls, as frost crawled up the walls and crept across the ceiling until it enveloped the entirety of the castle. The once vibrant and welcoming space now appeared desolate, transformed by the weight of her shattered dreams.

As she moved through the frozen corridors of the castle, Gwendolyn couldn't help but feel weighed down with a strange, growing pain in her heart that only expanded when she ventured outside the castle.

A fierce and unforgiving blizzard raged around her. The wind howled with relentless fury, whipping through the air and biting at her exposed skin. Snowflakes, large and heavy, swirled in a chaotic dance, obscuring her vision and making every step treacherous.

The world around her was transformed into a white abyss. The trees stood like frozen sentinels, their branches burdened with thick layers of snow, bending under the weight of a sudden winter's wrath. Gwendolyn's cloak billowed around her, the wind relentlessly tugging at its edges. She pressed forward, fighting against the blinding flurry.

The blizzard's icy breath seemed to penetrate through her very being, numbing her fingers and chilling her to the core. Her footsteps left faint imprints in the deep, powdery snow, quickly swallowed by the relentless cascade from above. The world felt vast and desolate as if she were the sole survivor in a frozen wasteland.

The blizzard seemed to mock her with its ferocity as if reflecting the turmoil within her own heart. The swirling snowflakes mirrored the chaos of her emotions, the biting wind mirroring the sting of betrayal and heartbreak she had endured. Yet, through it all, Gwendolyn pressed on, determined to find her own path amidst the tempest.

She found herself standing before the fountain, the woman she'd just seen die, stood on the other side. A silver gown wrapped around her lithe body, the bodice drenched in crimson as she stared back with lifeless ice-blue eyes.

"The ice never forgives. The ice never forgets. A Queen of ice is what I am. A Queen of ice is what you are. For I am you, and you are me. We are one and we are proof that spring never came."

Gwendolyn took a step back.

"Spring?"

In a flash, the woman was in her face. "Love, my innocent self. Do you have the slightest idea how many times I have lived this life? How many times I have attempted to live it differently? Every single time, it ended the same. We're always left betrayed, bleeding on the ground until life is snuffed out from our fragile body, like a snowflake melting into the soil. Spring will never come for us. Spring never came. Spring will never come."

Gwendolyn staggered. "What...what? What about everyone else?"

"Everyone else? There's no one but us. We are trapped in this blizzard, this vicious cycle of winter. Everyone you've met is the creation of your mind, our mind. I suppose it was one final, desperate attempt at guarding our sanity."

"Creation?"

Snow fell around her as she walked around the frozen fountain. "I have been cursed. Spring shall never come until love finds me. That was what the witch had said. Yet, I have been trying for decades, Gwendolyn. And every damned time my beloved still betrays me. Why do you think I've brought you here? You're the last remaining part of my sanity and my hope. I simply wished to thank you for hanging on all this time."

Gwendolyn swallowed. "Thank me? What about the villagers?"

"There are no villagers. There is no one but me stuck in this winter that wouldn't leave because of a sprig that never came. Come with me. Return to me. It's time we rewind this to the beginning again. The loop never ends, my sweet Gwendolyn...and the ice never melts."

As the woman wrapped her arms around Gwendolyn in an embrace so tight and warm despite the blowing wind that had enveloped them both in a swirling current of snow until they disappeared.

Word count: 2796.

Total word count: 5264.