The Snow Queen

Suddenly, my phone vibrated. It was Copperhead. A bad feeling swept over me. I wondered what kind of business he had at this hour when he should have been focusing on making a baby with his wife in bed.

“Hmm. What is it?”

I pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Damn it.

“What’s the dirt they’re planning to leak? Sex? Money?”

A vein throbbed at my temple.

That old man…

I took a deep drag on my cigarette, trying to regain my composure.

For the past eight months, we had been meticulously digging into the judicial system’s corruption. It was all part of our preparations for the upcoming parliamentary elections in a month. The judiciary had been monopolized by the Tattooed Elders, who held all the prime positions. It was common to hear jokes like, “It’s better for guilty warrior nobles to commit suicide than face judicial murder in court.” On top of that, there were rampant monetary transactions and bribery scandals.

ProLee Productions wasn’t an easy operation. There was so much corruption that Copperhead often complained, saying he felt like a miner digging in a gold mine. Ahead of the elections, a national audit was scheduled, during which we planned to expose the judiciary’s corruption and bring the Tattooed Elders crashing down. D-Day was a week away.

I stubbed out my cigarette and tossed it in the trash. It was infuriating.

Damn old man.

There was no other choice…

“Reserve a restaurant for 9 PM. Have everyone gather at headquarters by 7.”

Copperhead hung up. He sounded completely displeased. He was the team leader for this project. After nearly a year of hard work, it was understandable that he wasn’t happy about seeing it potentially unravel.

But I wasn’t worried. I had no intention of backing down so easily. Since Pusher had thrown a nun into play, we were going to counter with a priest. Pusher’s son, a university professor, was having an affair with a priest at the same church. Pusher had no idea. If we exposed it, he’d be in for the shock of his life.

I pulled out another cigarette and lit it.

Ray still hadn’t come down from the tower, even after 30 minutes. She had told me to wait and went up, but there hadn’t been any news since. I looked up at the tower.

It was pathetic. A gothic black stone tower, looking like a hastily added turret. The vast Whitebirch Forest surrounding it added to the eerie atmosphere. It was the perfect setting for a slasher horror movie, with a voluptuous blonde and a masked chainsaw-wielding monster.

Well, Ray, who firmly believed she was the reincarnation of the Snow Queen, probably had different feelings about it.

I shrugged and lit my cigarette.

It was a rare Sunday without snow. Ray and I had come to sightsee on one of the two monthly public opening days of the royal palace. Two months ago, by sheer coincidence, Leopard, who had just moved to our neighborhood, along with his girlfriend, Dealien (who had miraculously snagged him despite a childhood accident that left her unable to engage in witty conversations), had declined our invitation, saying they were sick of the palace. Having frequented the palace countless times, I, too, wasn’t particularly thrilled, but Ray, seeing the palace for the first time in 600 years (!), was visibly excited.

We arrived at the palace gates at 10 AM, bought tickets, and blended into the crowd of elderly tourists from all over the country. There were three main courses for touring the palace: the horseback riding course, the carriage course, and the walking tour with a guide.

The ticket vendor recommended the horseback or carriage courses, saying they were popular with couples. I chose the horseback course. I hadn’t ridden a horse in a while, but fortunately, the horse was tame, making it easy to ride.

Riding with Ray in front of me as we roamed the palace grounds was exhilarating. The palace, with 900 years of history, was so vast it felt like a small city. Various palaces and mansions surrounded the Mara Palace, which was still used by the royal family. The mansions surrounding Mara Palace were all connected by corridors. In the 19th century, when nobles had to reside in the palace to maintain their status, these mansions would have been bustling, but now they were mostly used as cafés or royal galleries.

“It’s basically an expensive walk. In the old days, even commoners could enter the palace if they were well-dressed, but now, due to fears of assassination, entry to the Mara Palace and the main halls frequented by the royal family and nobles is restricted. So, even though the palace is open to the public, all we can really see are the empty, cobweb-covered castles.”

“But there are guards everywhere, right?”

“They’re there to prevent damage to the sculptures and murals inside. Hmm, let’s head to the Mara Palace courtyard. According to the pamphlet, there’s supposed to be a royal parade for the tourists.”

Parade, my foot. All it was was the king and queen circling the garden in an open car, flanked by a few guards. The king, who had caught a cold, wore a large mask that covered his face up to his eyes. Tasha Swain, the queen who Pusher had finally managed to crown, kept coughing incessantly.

Just seeing Tasha Swain still made me sick to my stomach. Around this time last year, Pusher had shocked the nation by hosting a live televised hair show, inviting 58 noble women of marriageable age, including famous figures. Then, he sent in gangsters disguised as hairdressers to forcibly shave their heads in front of the entire nation. Three days later, the terrified king announced his emergency remarriage to Tasha Swain.

After just 20 minutes, the royal couple disappeared back into the palace. From the elderly tourists to Ray, everyone looked thoroughly disappointed.

“Haha. What a terrible visual ensemble, the king and queen. If you saw the king’s real face, you’d be begging for him to put the mask back on.”

“Indeed. And he’s much more petite in person than in photos.”

“He’s extremely short. I’ve seen both King Terence and King Kruger up close, and neither one is even close to 170 centimeters. At least Terence was handsome and well-built, but Kruger is the worst.”

We had a meal at the Klum Palace, where the king’s mistresses supposedly stayed. The banquet hall, where most tourists enjoy lunch or tea, was spotlessly clean, without a single cobweb. It was a beautiful palace, the epitome of Rococo style. We ate our packed lunch at the lavish table and even had muffins. After touring the palace again, we headed toward the Whitebirch Forest.

The infamous Whitebirch Forest was tucked away in the western corner of the royal estate. After driving for about 40 minutes, the vast expanse of the forest came into view. In the faint distance, a lone black tower stood ominously. A flock of crows flew across the sky. The wind wandered through the deserted forest, howling like a lost ghost. It was rather eerie. It took a while to traverse the forest—about 30 minutes later, we arrived at the tower.

I helped Ray off the horse and looked up at the tower.

In a way, it had a certain charisma. The towering structure soared into the sky, with only two windows—one on the first floor and one at the very top. If it weren’t for the entrance, one might think it was the tower where Rapunzel was held.

“Wait here. I’ll be back soon.”

With just that, Ray ascended the tower. And there had been no word from him since.

I tossed my cigarette into the trash bin outside the tower—the only modern thing in this place that seemed frozen in time from the Middle Ages.

With nothing better to do, I pulled out the pamphlet to read. No wonder it felt eerie—this was no ordinary tower, but a former prison. It had been used to confine the king’s half-siblings and other royals who had raised suspicion. There was even a mention of the Whitebirch incident. After that cursed event, the king had sealed off the tower, and it had remained vacant ever since.

I tossed the pamphlet into the trash and checked my watch. It was already 5 o’clock. Ray’s nostalgia or whatever it was, I couldn’t bear to wait any longer. Thirty minutes was more than enough. If I wanted to make it back to headquarters by 7, I needed to start moving.

I entered the tower. The staircase leading to the top was as gloomy as the exterior. The cold, suffocating air seeped from the black stone walls. Thin beams of sunlight barely pierced through the cracks in the walls, barely illuminating the dark interior. I wondered how anyone survived in this pitch-black place at night, and I looked around out of curiosity.

The first floor, where the windows were, appeared to be the kitchen. In the middle of the empty kitchen was a well. Hmm… I kept climbing the stairs. It became clear why there were only two windows in the tower—except for the first floor and the very top, the rest of the tower was just a solid pile of stone with a staircase winding through it. After what felt like an eternity of climbing, I reached a worn wooden door.

“Ra…” I began, but froze. Ray was talking to someone—or rather, talking to himself.

“That’s a lie! How could he be the husband?”

A chill ran down my spine. There was a pause, and then the voice continued from behind the door.

“I can’t believe it. How could he possibly be my husband?”

I swallowed dryly. Two months ago, Ray’s doctor had said that he only needed to come to the hospital once a month from then on. Even I could see Ray’s condition had improved. He no longer bundled up in layers even in spring, and his social anxiety had lessened significantly. Apart from his delusion of being the reincarnation of Whitebirch, he seemed much better.

And yet, here he was, talking to himself. Maybe it was a mistake to bring him to this place, this Whitebirch Tower.

I took a deep breath and slowly pushed open the door.

“Ray.”

Ray gestured for me to be quiet with a serious expression. I stood frozen for a moment as he spoke into his phone. “Yes,” he said.

Damn it.

“Messara, we need to head home right away. Good news—Diana went into labor as soon as we left, and she’s already had her puppies. Mrs. Castlemaine helped with the delivery and said there are four of them.”

Ray put down his phone as he spoke. I was caught off guard. “What?”

“And guess who the father is? It’s Milky.”

I stood silent for a moment. Milky, Diana’s mate.

That was the mystery that had captivated us for the past two months. Diana, now fully grown, had her first heat in midwinter. We had debated whether to spay her but decided to let her have one litter. We found her a sturdy mate and planned the day for their mating.

The morning before the planned day, I had gone out for a smoke and found Diana trotting back home through the fog, looking utterly satisfied, with her strawberry-patterned dress all wrinkled. She had apparently snuck out overnight through the milk chute under the front door to satisfy her urges.

Her belly had started growing after that. And now we learned that Milky, the neighbor’s dog, was the father. He was a husky, a big one at that, so we hadn’t even considered him a suspect. We couldn’t have.

Because Milky was a massive Siberian husky. Who would have thought?

“They said the puppies have Milky’s fur color and ear shape, and they’ve got big paws even as newborns.”

“Well, well… either Milky’s impressive, or Diana’s something else. It’s absurd. So that’s why the call took so long?”

Ray nodded. “Yes. I think we were on the phone for about 20 minutes.”

“Well, let’s get going. There’s nothing else to see here, even if the view is nice.”

I glanced around the tower. There really was nothing else. Just an empty room surrounded by black stone walls.

“If I knew the call would take this long, I wouldn’t have bothered bringing the snack basket up here. You must’ve been bored,” Ray remarked.

As Ray was about to take out a muffin from the snack basket, his phone rang again. He quickly handed me the basket and left the room to take the call. It seemed like it was from Lady Castlemaine.

I strolled around the room, eating a muffin, and my mood finally started to improve. On a day like this, with all the frustration, the fact that Diana had given birth felt like a small blessing from the heavens.

I decided to enjoy the view one last time before leaving. It was stunning. Beyond the Whitebirch forest, the palace stood like a mirage against the blue sky—a perfect painting. I almost felt like yelling out with the thrill of a young boy, but I stopped myself. This wasn’t the German Alps, and I wasn’t some lost hiker.

I looked around the room again. It felt so empty, almost identical to the impression I had when I first visited Ray’s one-room apartment. Maybe Ray had even modeled his room after the images of this tower from Whitebirch’s historical texts.

Ray’s delusions were so complete that his doctor had once marveled at how meticulously he had constructed this alternate world in his mind. Ray had done extensive research on the subject, fully immersing himself into the character to the point where it was difficult to distinguish between reality and fantasy. According to the doctor, Ray’s mental world was like that of an actor completely absorbed in a role, making it hard to break through. The only saving grace was that Ray was working hard to accept reality and overcome his obsession with the Snow Queen.

I chuckled bitterly. In the end, what became known as the “Ryeong Incident” was simply the result of a mentally disturbed person’s strange behavior, and that case file was buried deep in a cabinet in my office. It was a farcical, yet horrifying, tragedy.

I rested my hand on the window ledge and looked down. Ray was already walking briskly away from the tower, his auburn hair fluttering even from this distance.

My phone vibrated. It was Leopard.

“Yeah, what is it?”

—What do you mean, what is it? I’ve booked the negotiation spot. Same place as before, an Italian restaurant out in the suburbs. I’ve also contacted Pusher. You should’ve heard how loudly he was waving that damn fan, said he’d be bringing his daughter this time. Oh, man, this takes me back. Remember when we were heading there to meet Manen after getting screwed over by Redfox?

I leaned against the wall, pulling out a cigarette. Damn it.

“What did Pusher say?”

“Wait for now.”

I ended the call with just that. Anger simmered inside me. After failing to place the queen on the throne a year ago, I was now served with this massive humiliation. If it were up to me, I’d take pliers to Altonen’s privates and squeeze a hundred times.

I took a deep drag from my cigarette and mulled over Leopard’s words—Pusher saying, “Too much work to bother with a fight.” The meaning was obvious. The Winter Olympics that the kingdom was hosting in 2132 were just two years away, and with the kingdom’s tarnished reputation from years of corruption, this event was crucial for restoring its image. It also had to be thoroughly prepared to avoid financial disaster.

However, Lord Wolfscott and Manen had done none of that preparation. Instead, they had taken bribes from construction companies under the pretense of building venues and had passed away peacefully afterward. Eight months ago, I received a report that Pusher had started taking sedatives after inspecting the Olympic preparations under Lotus’s jurisdiction. Sensing something was off, I reviewed the reports myself, and the realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

I had always known Lord Wolfscott was making a mess, but I never imagined they hadn’t done

to prepare. It seemed like Lord Wolfscott had foreseen my betrayal and left this disaster as his final revenge. Damn him.

Pusher wasn’t wrong. There was too much work to do to get sidetracked by fighting, but I still seethed with rage. My blood felt like it was boiling from my feet up.

That old bastard dared to screw me over again? And now he’s lecturing me?

I kicked the wall in frustration, the heavy thud echoing through the room. Once, twice, three times, I kicked until I had left a few marks on the precious royal property. Only then did I stop, struggling to calm myself as I extinguished my cigarette.

Calm down…

I decided to relax with dinner, maybe get Ray to join me. Just as I was about to pick up the snack basket, there was a loud noise from the wall. Surely, a few kicks couldn’t have been enough to bring down the tower, could they? I stared at the wall.

The noise was coming from a section of the wall near my waist. The sound was grating and uncomfortable, like nails on a chalkboard. Slowly, the wall started trembling, and then, as if it were a drawer, it slid open.

What the…

I frowned. The wall revealed a hidden compartment, a cleverly disguised secret door. The spot I had kicked must have been a trigger. I had always known that ancient builders had strange tastes, but I never expected to find myself in such an adventure.

Could this be… a medieval panic room?

The small gap between the door and the wall was just enough to reveal a box. I pulled it out. Thanks to being in such a sealed and cold space for so long, the box was well-preserved. As I opened it, I gasped.

A sharp burst of light flared out like magical flames, slicing through the darkness in an instant. In the brilliant glow, the contents became visible. Jewels—sapphire rings, ruby bracelets, diamond necklaces, pearl earrings, emerald hairpins, opal pendants…

The dazzling colors spread like a wild storm of light, cutting through the dark and cold like a flickering candle in an old attic. After a long moment, I finally managed to exhale.

Could this be a miracle?

It felt like one. There was no other way to describe it.

I quickly regained my composure. Drawing on my years of experience as a jewelry enthusiast, I carefully examined each piece. There were six items in total, each one magnificent. These were no ordinary treasures. The diamond necklace, in particular, seemed priceless. Even just by eye, I could tell there were hundreds of diamonds embedded in it, totaling over 4,000 carats. It was on par with the diamond necklace that had brought down Marie Antoinette.

The other jewels were no less remarkable. No base metals had been used—each stone was of the highest quality. Despite their age, the treasures had been perfectly preserved, likely due to their excellent craftsmanship.

I was so overwhelmed with joy that I nearly fainted.

“Ha.”

What a stroke of luck. Puppies and now treasure—was this God’s way of showering me, Four Messara, with an overabundance of blessings?

Laughter slipped out on its own. Finally, holding the box in my arms, I spread them wide and burst into loud laughter.

“Hahahahaha!”

Was this how Ali Baba felt when he discovered the cave? It was exhilarating. Suddenly, my phone vibrated. It was Ray.

“Oh, yes. I’ll be right there.”

I moved the jewels into the snack basket. I wanted to steal the entire box, but it was too big to fit in the basket. Who was the kind soul who did this? It must have been some unlucky royal locked away in the tower by the king.

After moving all the jewels, I paused as I closed the basket. At the bottom of the jewelry box, a piece of parchment was folded. I unfolded it and read it. It was hard to understand. The old-fashioned language made it impossible to figure out what it said, and the handwriting was atrocious. I could only barely make out something like “I love you…” If this was supposed to be a love letter, I could guarantee it was rejected.

I folded the parchment and put it back into the jewelry box. After returning the box to the gap, I kicked the wall repeatedly. The stone door closed with that same ear-scratching sound.

Haha.

As expected, people from the old days were romantic…

Carrying the snack basket, I left the room. I was insanely happy. Laughter kept spilling out. How could I not laugh? How could anyone hold back from laughing at this?

I practically flew down the stairs and out of the tower. Ray was forcing some dried-up weeds into the horse’s mouth, trying to get it to eat.

“Are you getting back at me? I’ve been waiting for 30 minutes.”

“It’s nothing. Let’s go. Headquarters just called me for work.”

“Really? If it’s enough to work on a Sunday, it must be serious… But why are you laughing like that?”

Ray tilted his head in confusion. I desperately controlled my expression and handed him the snack basket. Ray muttered, “Why is it so heavy?” and tried to open the basket lid. I quickly mounted him on the horse.

“Don’t open it for no reason. I picked up a few rocks as a souvenir from the tower and put them in there.”

“…Rocks? You picked up rocks as a souvenir and put them in here?”

Ray looked at me in disbelief. I pretended not to notice and hopped onto my saddle. We slowly left the tower. The horse trotted leisurely along the path.

I whipped the horse forward. The towering white birches whizzed past. Ray clutched the reins tightly and leaned forward.

“Don’t drop the snack basket! Hold it tight! It’s important!”

I shouted as I slapped the horse’s rear with the whip. The horse galloped at full speed. Dirt flew from the hooves. Ray’s amber hair fluttered wildly in the wind as he bent over, screaming. Behind him, I laughed.

This is really something.

Some of the jewels would probably suit Ray. After finishing the negotiations, I thought I might try putting some on him at home. As for the diamond necklace, I planned to sell it immediately. Selling just that one would bring in enough money to run Guiger for 20 years.

No, since it was a gift from the gods, it seemed fitting to use it for something more meaningful than just evil deeds. Perhaps I’d buy a cozy little cottage on a warm southern island. Or maybe expand our home. How about setting Ray up with a small publishing house? I could even donate generously to charity…

Even after spending extravagantly, there would still be enough left to fill 300 sacks. This was the moment the kingdom’s wealth rankings would shift. The joy was enough to drive me mad.

I let out a hysterical laugh.

“Haha!”

I hugged Ray tightly. Impulsively, I kissed his cheek. The yellow full moon had already risen. Snowflakes had started to fall gently. The white birch forest was slowly soaking up a rosy hue. The wind spread out like watercolors on a palette.

I spurred the horse on. Urging it, we raced at full speed. We ran and ran, cutting through the snow and slicing through the wind. We even sliced through the moonlight in an instant. We raced through the white birch forest, holding Ray’s hand.