Ice Veins; Ice Heart

1.

If you're like me and don't like cutesy stuff because it reminds you of your own loveless life, u can skip all the numerical chapters and get right down to le drama that follows.

Opening her eyes, Ilsa's first sight was of a beautiful Victorian ceiling. A chandelier that hung from it and what could only be described as a variation of the Sistine Chapel painted on the ceiling.

She was so lost in the vision of such beautiful artwork that she forgot to take in where she was completely.

She shifted her head and noticed she was lying on satin pillowcases and sheets. On her left were high-arched windows that reflected the beauty of the Italian countryside. She flipped over the sheets and stepped out of the ginormous king-sized bed on the woven Persian rug. The bedroom was adorned with a bookshelf the size of a library. Books of all sorts were placed within. Every literary publication could be found in the original first versions. To the side of the library was a door leading to a wardrobe that could put the designer collections of Versace, Gucci and Balenciaga to shame. The clothes that hung in the racks were astounding.

Ilsa quickly stepped out of the walk-in wardrobe and shut the door. She refused to explore any more of the room; she was placed in fear of a heart attack. The shock of it all was creeping within her.

She walked further towards the window, admiring the scenery behind the glass pane. Ilsa was in a peaceful bubble, completely forgotten of Edward's treachery and the impending trial that rested solely on her shoulders.

A singular knock piqued her attention.

"Come in." She said absent-minded, not caring about who was behind the door.

"Good morning, my Queen." A sweet voice chirped.

Turning around, Ilsa smiled at the sweet summer child standing before her.

"Good morning, Jane."

"I hope you rested well and regained your strength, my Queen. The Kings and the Guards were heavily worried for your well-being." Jane said.

"I'm sorry to have worried them. I guess between the plane ride and...and the whole incident just took it out of me." Ilsa sighed. She refused to speak the traitor's name.

"What he did was irresponsible. He must be punished severely for treating you such, my Queen." Jane replied, with malicious intent coating her every word.

"Until I decide I plan to let him rot down there."

"An apt decision, my Queen."

"Jane, please, I am no more a Queen than I am an ostrich. Please just call me Ilsa." Ilsa said warmly. She hated all types of royal salutations attached to her.

"I apologize, but you are the King's mate; it is only right I address you with proper respect." Jane firmly stated, uncomfortable at Ilsa's nonchalant attitude.

"I must insist. Please, Jane, call me Ilsa. I am not above or below. We are equals." Ilsa smiled at the child in front of her. Even though Jane was hundreds of years older than her, she saw Jane as a 14-year-old child because that is what she was. Being immortal means being frozen in time. Jane was frozen at fourteen, and she will always remain fourteen, both physically and mentally.

"As...as you wish, my...Ilsa."

"Wonderful. Now, back to business. Where are my mates?"

"The Kings have requested your presence at breakfast. They made sure to instruct the chef to prepare a wonderful and nutritious meal."

"That is amazing! I am absolutely famished. Please lead the way!"

"If we are equals, may I speak freely?"