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Winter stared listlessly out of the window, a dull pain beating in her chest as if from a far distance. Snow floated down, little sparkling bits of frozen water that still felt strange to her even after a few months of living on Earth.
It was winter here on Earth – the season her mother had named her after, that season of ice-cold beauty and an inexplicable coziness she still didn't quite understand. It was colder then she had ever been outside, so why did it feel warmer and cozier? It still puzzled Winter, but she had decided to relish the feeling rather than spend time wondering the answer. And today, she wished more than ever that she could stop thinking altogether, and just feel the comfortable coziness that came from curling up next to the fire with a cup of chocolate.
The anniversary of her mother’s death.
She had celebrated her birthday the previous week, a small, happy celebration with just her closest loved ones, and now that this day had come she just felt a dull coldness. A distant, thumping pain that didn't really feel like it would go away any time soon.
“Winter?”
Winter turned at the sound of Jacin’s voice, a cozy warmth spreading through her. Jacin was more like winter than she was, she sometimes thought. Cool and icy, but beautiful and with a warmth and coziness that seemed to go against his coldness.
“I'm here, Jacin.”
Jacin walked to her, his stiff guard posture seeming to melt away as he approached her. With a sympathetic smile he covered her hand with his and pulled her close with the other.
“It's that day, isn't it.”
It wasn't a question. Jacin didn't ask questions, not when he already knew the answer. Winter burrowed her head into his shoulder, wishing she could shed a tear. She wouldn't feel so guilty, so crushed if she could cry.
“The walls aren't bleeding, Jacin. The walls aren't bleeding, so why does my heart feel like it should hurt?”
Jacin carded a hand through her hair, resting his cheek against the top of her head. Comforting her even when she didn't make sense.
“If the walls were bleeding, wouldn't it still hurt?”
Winter squeezed her eyes shut, trying to shut everything out but Jacin – Jacin, her guard who has never abandoned her. Her winter when she couldn't be. Her cozy spot of warmth and her loyal protector.
She felt Jacin's lips against her hair and the knot in her chest loosened a bit more. Maybe her mom wasn't here, but Jacin was – Selene had been found – she could see Scarlet-friend and Wolf whenever she wanted – Cress and Thorne were a mere call away – everything was building up to make a perfect life.
“Jacin,” she murmured, unsure what she would say.
“Yeah, Trouble?”
“I – nevermind.”
Jacin pulled back and looked her in the eyes, searching with the eyes that seemed to see right through her. Pulled back each layer of skin and blood and flesh to see her heart beating, beating, beating in her chest.
“Winter.” His eyes continued to search hers. “Ask me. You don't have to worry.”
“I just – could you braid my hair?” She asked, her voice dropping to a shy whisper.
Jacin laughed softly, his arms falling away from her slowly. There was a fond expression on his face, the kind of expression he seemed only to make around her. His twinkling eyes and a barely-a-smirk on his face made him look almost teasing, though it settled in a gentler, sweeter expression.
Winter walked towards the window, Jacin’s fingers held loosely in her hand, and settled into the window seat. Jacin sat behind her, letting her hand go and beginning to gather her hair. With a wistful sigh, Winter rested her chin on her hand, elbow on the windowsill, and began watching the hypnotic dance of crystalline snowflakes fluttering to the ground.
“I’m not very good at braiding,” Jacin confessed. “Do you want one big braid or multiple smaller ones?”
Winter closed her eyes, remembering gentle hands combing her hair back, twisting strands of hair together into short braids that swished when she shook her head. “Multiple?”
Jacin grunted in affirmation and pulled back a small section of hair, beginning to twist it together. “Why did you want me to braid your hair? Your mom didn’t — I mean, she couldn’t have braided your hair, right?”
Winter heard the unspoken she died too early for that in Jacin’s voice. She closed her eyes, wishing for a saltwater tear that could drip into her scars and sting – wishing for something other than this gaping emptiness.
“Levana did.”
Jacin’s hands stilled at her answer, strands of hair falling out of his hands and whispering across her neck. It didn’t surprise Winter. How could anyone guess that Levana, the hateful, power-hungry queen, had been almost like a mother to her?
“What?” Jacin finally got out, his voice laced with disbelief.
“It was when I was younger. Levana was almost like a mother to me when I was a child. My hair got pretty long when I was about seven or eight, and she would always braid it for me.” A soft smile played across Winter’s lips for a second – only a second before it fell away. “That’s why I wasn’t expecting her attack.”
She could feel Jacin’s grip tightening around her hair, pulling at her scalp, but didn’t say anything. If anything, she welcomed the dull pinches of pain – it was something grounding her, like Jacin’s voice during a nightmare.
She hadn’t thought about it since Levana had been overthrown. She hadn’t wanted to think of it – the betrayal that had stabbed her in her chest, Levana’s twisted face, the twisting of her own body against her – who in their right mind would want to think of that? Who out of their right mind would want to think of that? Even someone crazy, insane, even someone driven mad – nobody could wish to think of that.
During Levana’s reign, Winter had avoided it. She struggled with nightmares, struggled with the mocking jeers of the court, struggled with staying herself in a land where nobody showed their true face. The Lunar court was a court of liars and two-faced snakes, and she was the only person who dared to tell the truth. And then she heard about Selene, and she joined the rebellion, and still struggled with nightmares and the pressure to be perfect, to be a perfect Winter, the princess who inspired, but this time she was actually doing something – that was enough for her. But now?
Levana overthrown. The crown given to Cinder – Selene – and then the monarchy dissolved. And she had time now, time to process Levana’s lies and cruelty. If the Lunar court was a nest of snakes, then Levana was the serpent. Syrupy-sweet words dripping off her tongue, nobody noticing the poison that dripped out too. One moment hypnotizing you with her slitted eyes, the next whipping around to sink her fangs into you, to inject her venom into you, and if you were lucky you could actually feel the pain.
Winter had felt the pain worse than anyone.
She had the chance to think about it now, but did she want to? Did she want to dig up those memories, the ones that could explode into thousands of shards of glass that dig themselves into her skin? Did she want to fall down on the floor, bleeding from the force of the memories that she had never asked for?
Did she want to get better?
This wasn’t Lunar sickness, this was something else. Something darker, like shadows made tangible. Like a shadow that fell on her, warping her, twisting her until she’s something else, until she becomes a shadow that can’t ever heal.
“Jacin,” she whispered, twisting her hands together in her lap. She was drowning, drowning in an ocean of unshed saltwater tears, and Jacin was the only thing that could pull her away. Her anchor, pulling her back to the real world.
“I’m here, Princess.”
Winter closed her eyes, memories flooding back. Her throat tightened, her chest squeezing in on itself like a cage crumpling in on her heart.
“Levana was like a mother,” she said. “She took care of me, her and my father. My father loved me, I know he did, but I could tell he didn’t love Levana, even when Levana tried to lavish love and every wish upon me. Eventually, my father died – I still don’t know how, I’ve heard the rumors but don’t know if they’re true – and Levana seemed like she would take care of me.”
Winter paused, enjoying the feeling of Jacin braiding her hair. She could feel that it would probably be too loose, and she smiled a bit at the idea of Jacin being bad at something. Knowing him, he would probably try to redo it until he got it perfect, but she didn’t mind. If anything, it made it more special.
“But then?” Jacin gently prodded, combing out another section of hair with his fingers. Winter clenched her hands and went on.
“It was the day after my thirteenth birthday. Levana had thrown a birthday banquet for me, and everyone came. I think some people had tried to spite her by saying I was more beautiful than her. Maybe they were genuine. All I know is that the next day, Levana cornered me.”
Jacin dropped the piece of hair he was braiding to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. Winter let her shoulders drop, relaxing her whole body as the memory flooded back, vividly.
Levana walked up to her, a sinister smile on her face. Winter, not yet knowing that she should be scared, approaching with a smile.
“Darling, could you hold this for me?” Levana purred, handing Winter a knife. Winter took it curiously, looking up at Levana expectantly.
Levana dropped to her knees, caressing Winter’s cheek.
“Oh, my poor child.” her eyes started to glint with madness. “How could you be more beautiful than me?”
Winter shrugged, smiling sweetly at Levana.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Winter, darling, do you think I’m beautiful?” crooned Levana, her lips bleeding a blood red.
“Of course!” Winter said with a nod, “you’re the most beautiful in the kingdom, obviously!”
“And would I be beautiful with this?” scars appeared on Levana’s face, some like crusted-over slices in the skin, others made of burn tissue.
Winter tilted her head to one side, considering. “No,” she eventually decided. “You’re more beautiful without them.”
“Scars, then… that’s the way to go…” Levana mused, standing. “Winter, you’d do something for me, wouldn’t you? To keep your Auntie the most beautiful in the kingdom!”
“Yeah, what is it?”
Her wrist bent up towards her, her arm at an awkward angle to her face. Moving against her will, relentlessly, curling up towards her face.
The cold metal of the blade against her cheek.
“You? More beautiful than me ? The queen of Luna?”
“Auntie!”
The scream was full of fear and pain, mingling with tears as the blade sliced down her cheek. A drop of blood bubbled up, like a smooth red ruby that shone in the light before breaking and dripping down her face like a tear.
“They’re delusional… delusional, every last one… I’m the most beautiful… have they forgotten all that I’ve done for them? Every sacrifice I’ve offered?”
A second slice, next to the first one. Tears of blood trickling down Winter’s cheek, and she couldn’t move, she couldn’t stop it, her father wasn’t here to protect her and Levana was making her cut herself…!
“They’ll never call you more beautiful than me, never again!” Levana said, her voice rising to a shriek. “ I’m the queen of Luna, I’m the most beautiful!”
Winter screamed again as the blade moved, carving a third tear into her cheek. When would Levana stop? When would this insanity end? Could she ever be safe, ever again?
Levana crouched again, pulling Winter towards her. “My dear, you know you’re not more beautiful than me, right?”
Winter could only sob, words stuck in her throat. Her cheek burned, stinging with every tear that fell out of her eyes. Her arm fell, Levana’s control broken, and the blade clattered to the ground as Winter fell to her knees, tears and blood falling to the floor and mingling like watercolors on paper.
“I’m still the most beautiful, aren’t I, Winter?”
Winter fell on her side, curling up into a ball. This wasn’t Levana. It couldn’t be. It was some cruel, sick joke.
“Winter? Can you hear me?”
Sharp nails pulled her hair away from her face, and Levana pulled Winter’s head into her lap.
“Oh, my Winter. You never needed to go through this.”
Winter blinked the last tears out of her eyes and looked up. Levana was watching her with a smile on her face, ebony locks of hair brushing the top of Winter’s head. Winter tried to sit up, but Levana pushed her back down with a quiet shhh .
“If only you were less beautiful.”
Levana traced her nail down the longest of the scratches and Winter cried out in pain. With a sad sort of sigh, Levana peered at the nail. Blood now covered the tip of her nail, like thin paint had splattered onto it. After a moment, Levana brought the finger towards her mouth and flicked her tongue against the tip, cleaning off the blood like a cat would clean it’s claws.
“We could have avoided all of this if Solstice had just birthed an ugly baby. Or if her child hadn’t been born at all.”
A spike of fear went through Winter’s heart.
“My dear Winter, remember this.”
Levana turned to look at Winter, her expression almost motherly if it weren’t for the blood smeared around her mouth. It must have been part of her glamour, because her lipstick had been blood-red and pristine moments ago.
“You are never going to be more beautiful than me.”
“That was when I knew for certain that Levana was insane,” Winter said softly. “She went from kind and motherly to cruel and sadistic, and then she put back on her motherly act. That was the first day I was truly afraid of Levana. That was the last day I let her touch my hair.”
Jacin paused a moment before moving to the last section of hair. “I can’t imagine how you managed to live in the palace with Levana after that,” he said. “That sounds like torture.”
Winter nodded. “It was worse because she just tried to act the same. It was only me finally telling her that I didn’t want her to touch me that stopped her from constantly offering to braid my hair. And so I–” She stopped, sorrow squeezing her throat too tight to get any words out. Jacin secured the last braid and stepped back.
“I finished,” he said. Winter turned around to look at him, the warmth of his sunshine smile making her feel cozy and at home.
“Thank you,” Winter whispered, letting Jacin pull her into a hug. “For everything.”
Jacin chuckled softly, resting his cheek against Winter’s hair. Pulling out of the hug, he looked into her eyes.
“How could I not, Princess?”
Winter smiled and rolled onto her tiptoes, brushing her lips against Jacin’s. Jacin pulled her close, clasping his hands behind her back.
Now she was home.