Chapter 37: The Queen of Ice

"What are you speaking of?" The king roared, the light catching the razor-sharp point of his blade.

"Oh please, you cannot tell me that you don't remember me?" she asked coyly.

"I hadn't met you until we were introduced after Maeve's death," he retorted, looking suspiciously at his wife. She threw back her head and laughed. Her laugh was musical and tinkled prettily, but there was a dangerous edge to it.

"Oh, darling," she drawled. "We met long before that. Do you not remember that serving girl that you took to your bed when your wife was pregnant?" His face blanched.

"I do not know what you are speaking of," he stammered. She cackled.

"My, my. Well let me jog your memory, shall I?" She said flatly, her eyes boring into his, a terrifying smile upon her lips. She caressed her long white hair, starting at the crown of her head and down. Where her hands passed, the white bled into an inky black. The king gasped and took a staggering step backward. She crossed her hands in front