The Snow Queen's Shadow
Danielle’s cloak.
“Why won’t Gramma wake up?”
Danielle kissed him, unable to answer.
“Because your grandmother is dead,” Armand said.
“Why?” Jakob burrowed his head into Danielle’s shoulder. “Why is she dead?”
“Your grandmother was sick for a very long time,” Danielle said. “She was hurting, and she was very tired. She’s not hurting anymore. She’s at peace.”
Jakob turned his head, peeking at Beatrice from the corner of his eye. “Will you die?”
“Yes,” said Armand. “Everyone dies.”
“But not for a long time,” Danielle said sharply. “Armand, what’s wrong?”
“You’d prefer I lie to my son?”
“I’d prefer you remember he’s not yet three years old. He doesn’t understand—”
“What is there to understand?” Armand stepped away, turning his back on the queen’s body. “These empty rituals we perform to comfort ourselves? We will spend these days paying our respects to a broken husk. We will share pleasant memories, ignoring her flaws and making her out to be a saint called back to Heaven. We will cry false tears, though all knew she was dying. We will ‘celebrate her life’ and pretend death doesn’t wait to take us all at any moment.”
There was no compassion in his voice. He spoke as though to a stranger. Momentarily speechless, Danielle turned to Father Isaac. Isaac had known Armand for years, long before Danielle came to the palace
“Your Highness, your son looks to you for strength,” said Isaac, his words ever so slightly chastising.
“He looks for lies.” Armand barely even glanced at Jakob. “We dress death in its finest garb, arrange it to appear restful and calm. Let him see the world as it truly is.”
“As it truly is?” Isaac’s bushy brows lowered slightly.
Danielle reached toward Armand’s shoulder. “Armand, that’s enough. What’s the matter?”
Armand pulled away. “My mother is dead. I’ll thank you not to harangue me with foolish questions.” With that, he walked out of the chapel, leaving Danielle to stare in silence.
“What’s wrong with Papa?” Jakob asked.
“He’s upset.” Danielle squeezed him tight, planting another kiss on his sweaty brow. Had Armand been anyone else, she might have suspected him of drinking, but Armand rarely indulged these days. “Sometimes it’s easier to be angry than sad.”
Isaac placed a hand on Jakob’s back. “Your father loves you. His anger is not toward you.”
“Mad at Gramma?” Jakob asked.
“He’s not mad at anyone,” Danielle said. “He’s just mad.”
“I don’t like this papa.”
“Your father loves you, Jakob.” Danielle hugged him. “And he didn’t mean to upset you.”
Isaac stepped away, twirling his crucifix between stiff fingers as he looked up at the stained glass windows.
“What’s wrong?” Danielle asked, watching him closely.
“I’m not sure. For a moment, when Armand left . . . the windows have whispered to me today, but their warnings are too faint.” Father Isaac’s magic might not be as powerful as Snow’s, but he had spent years working spells of peace and protection into those windows.
“You think something could be wrong with Armand?” Danielle kept her voice steady so as not to upset Jakob. “Something magical?”
Isaac shook his head. “It may be I’m simply on edge myself. Or perhaps it’s an effect of Snow’s broken mirror. That much power released in the palace . . . How is she?”
“I’ve barely seen her today,” Danielle admitted. Snow certainly hadn’t acted hurt as she flitted through the palace, retrieving the rest of her broken mirrors. Tymalous had clearly taken good care of her.
“I never saw Snow’s mirror, though she told me of it once,” Isaac said. “Given its power, I’m surprised its destruction didn’t have more of an impact on my own magic. She did well to contain the damage.” He turned away from the windows and tucked his hands into his sleeves. “She’s not been by today. We each grieve in our own way, but I know she and Beatrice were close. She should take the chance to say farewell in private, before the funeral. As should you.”
Danielle nodded and set Jakob down. Keeping his hand in hers, she stepped toward the queen’s body. As she knelt, she glanced at Father Isaac, who had gone back to studying the stained glass windows. Worry furrowed his brow.
Danielle bowed her head and prayed.
CHAPTER 3
T ALIA STOOD IN THE SHADOWS BEHIND Danielle,
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