Description
The cold danced up and down the child's spine, caressing her softly as it stung sharply as needles. Snowflakes danced across her hair and fell gently on her porcelain skin. Soft lips tinted a pale blue; cheeks light up a soft rose made the Queen smile. A vibrant blue cloak peaks through the snow, drawing attention to the girl's skin as white as snow. Her black gloves obstructed her hands, but the Queen suspected that if the cloak and gloves were to be removed, this porcelain girl would fit well in the fresh snow. A living tribute to her waking. The girl sat under the heavy branches filled with snow of an ancient tree, her sorrow filled eyes making the Queen frown. Why would anyone be so desolated when the snowflakes sang silently a lullaby upon their head? Doesn't the girl feel the magic that was in the air? Wasn't she happy for the awakening of Winter? The Queen taught, looking more closely at the girl and trying to pluck - like one would pluck flowers in Summer - the thoughts that wandered through the girl's mind. "Ah, sweet child," the Queen whispered, a smile blooming on her frozen features. "If a gown you want, a gown you shall have."
Prologue
