How to survive in the Romance Fantasy Game Chapter 693: Frozen Trials 6

A week had gone by.

Snow gazed at her image in the gently flowing river.

" ... "

The water flowed softly, warping the visage that gazed back at her.

Speckles dotted her cheeks.

Dark, somewhat curly locks tumbled untidily down to her shoulders.

Saggy flesh near her chin.

A slender build that obviously lacked good nourishment.

She appeared... plain.

No.

Even plainer than that.

Exhausted.

Despite seven days of awakening in this state, she hadn't adjusted yet.

All her life, people had labeled her stunning.

Flawless.

A royal figure shaped from ice and radiance.

She had never refuted it.

She never had to.

Her allure was undeniable.

But now, staring at this countenance—

It held no grandeur.

Merely a commonplace lass.

"Snow! Where have you gone? Come on quick! Scrub those dishes! New patrons are arriving and the Head Chef's yelling at me already!"

Her body tensed up.

"On my way!"

She swiftly hoisted a hefty pot piled with damp dishes.

Droplets trickled down her arms as she dried them using a coarse rag. Her digits were reddened from the chilly stream.

She dashed indoors via the rear door.

The inn buzzed with noise. Filled with haze, chuckles, and the aroma of grilled flesh.

"Snow!" the cook growled as soon as he spotted her. "I instructed you to wash those dishes quicker! See all these burly folks hanging around!"

She peeked toward the entrance area.

A bunch of massive explorers occupied one of the lengthy benches, their plated shoulders jostling one another, tankards thudding down restlessly.

"Apologies, Chef, hehe... the stream looked murky briefly, you know..."

"Stream murky?" he retorted sharply. "In a crystal-clear river right by the chapel? Are you joking with me?"

"Hehe..."

She let out a forced, uneasy chuckle.

"Tch! I've got no patience for this. Head to the front and assist Luie and Kala. Serve those meals!"

"Understood, Chef."

Kal Karam, the proprietor and chief cook, was an enormous fellow.

Wide shoulders, bulky limbs, facial hair shrouding half his features.

He resembled a battle-hardened fighter more than a stew-maker.

With a harsh huff, he pivoted back to the hearth, seizing a skillet with a single grip as if it were featherlight.

And Snow—

Formerly a noble princess.

Once a wielder of blizzards and a figure towering over realms.

Now ferried platters of seared meat and soup amid a raucous inn.

For seven days, she had attempted to decipher the ordeal.

Why this form?

Why this existence?

What precisely was under scrutiny?

Her elegance?

Her spirit?

Each dawn, she roused in a tiny loft chamber over the inn. Daily, she labored. Washed. Waited tables. Tolerated.

No beasts.

No sorcery.

No evident goal.

Simply this.

"Snow! Table three!"

"Heading there!"

She navigated swiftly among the benches, vigilant against spills while rugged explorers guffawed and quarreled boisterously.

....

"Um... I've pondered this for some time, but... what precisely are you up to?"

At Riley's inquiry, the Frost Queen halted.

Her digits lingered softly against his face.

She cocked her head a bit, her gaze sharpening as though deeply pondering the reply.

Following moments of hushed reflection, she released his visage and settled back correctly.

" ... Accurately outlining. "

"Outlining?" Riley massaged his cheeks. They weren't injured — merely mildly heated from the icy contact.

"Indeed. "

"For what reason? "

She clasped her hands tidily upon the surface.

"Since replication must preserve flawlessness to align with the essence of loveliness. "

" ... Understood. "

Riley fluttered his eyelids.

That clarified zilch.

The more moments he shared with the Frost Queen, the further she seemed from the image he believed he grasped.

Upon their initial encounter, she had been frosty. Remote. Nearly unreachable.

Currently?

She remained frosty.

Remained refined.

Yet she sporadically seized his countenance every twenty to thirty minutes, as if scrutinizing a statue she herself sculpted.

For context — they occupied her "banquet table. "

Though dubbing it so seemed overly kind.

It was a compact rectangular slab crafted from pristine white frost. A pair of iced seats opposing one another. Lacking embellishments. Lacking repast. Merely them.

The encircling chamber sprawled wide and barren, yet she adamantly termed this setup a banquet.

Over the previous hour, the routine had recurred.

They conversed ordinarily.

Quietude descended.

Then abruptly—

She would incline ahead.

Clasp his face using both palms.

Softly compress his cheeks.

Rotate his head marginally to the left.

Subsequently to the right.

Occasionally she'd tweak his jaw's tilt.

Examine him keenly.

Then affirm with a single nod to herself.

And resume her position as though unperturbed.

The initial instance, Riley was too stunned to respond.

The subsequent one, he figured it might be an odd Frost Queen tradition.

By the fifth, he began questioning her ennui.

Something in her evoked memories of Seo.

Admittedly, Seo displayed awkwardness more overtly.

But the Frost Queen shared that identical peculiar interpersonal gap.

As if she comprehended humanity conceptually... yet not practically.

Nevertheless, even Riley's tolerance had boundaries.

"So, " he attempted once more cautiously, "what specifically are you replicating? "

She regarded him serenely.

"You. "

" ... Me. "

"Yes. "

"In which manner? "

"In all manners. "

That failed to reassure him.

Her ghostly pale orbs swept over his features anew, as if gauging balance visible solely to her.

"There exist minor flaws, " she whispered softly. "Subtle expressions. Uneven muscle strain. It hinders harmony. "

"Harmony of what? "

"The perfect form. "

Riley eyed her steadily.

" ... You realize I'm merely an average fellow, correct? "

She creased her brow subtly.

"You are not. "

"That's not my point. "

She advanced forward unexpectedly once more.

Riley recoiled a tad this instance.

Her frigid fingertips cradled his cheeks again.

She pressed them gently, his mouth contorting comically beneath the force.

"Stay immobile, " she instructed gravely.

"I am immobile! "

She disregarded him.

Her thumbs fine-tuned his chin's position.

She drew nearer.

Their countenances were mere inches away now.

Her demeanor was profoundly concentrated — akin to a painter refining a concluding stroke.

After an extended interval, she released him yet again.

" ... Advancement. "

Riley gradually reclined in his seat.

"I'm beginning to feel like a molded figurine. "

She batted her eyes once.

" ... That holds truth. "

He exhaled.

Yeah.

He truly failed to comprehend her whatsoever now.

He glanced downward.

'My beverage has chilled...'

A delicate frost coating had appeared atop the formerly hot drink in his frost-hewn vessel.

It no longer vaporized. It merely rested there, undisturbed, overlooked amid yet another unforeseen facial check.

"Would you like to heat your beverage anew? "

The Frost Queen posed it offhandedly, as though warmth yielded to her as effortlessly as respiration.

She executed a minor motion toward the mute attendants positioned along the barriers.

Riley negated with a head shake and set the vessel aside.

"No, it's alright... "

"Really? You're rather peculiar for a mortal. "

I ought to utter that to you.

He nearly voiced it.

Nearly.

Yet he restrained the remark.

She wasn't mortal.

Not truly.

Grumbling about her notion of normality proved futile.

He peered at her once more and sighed softly.

For the prior hour, they had achieved naught.

A handful of phrases exchanged.

Prolonged hushes.

The sporadic cheek-seizing ceremony.

Even their prior greeting seemed odd — courteous, aloof, incomplete.

Like two monarchs convening for protocol instead of two individuals truly connecting.

Yet she had shown nothing but benevolence.

Politeness.

Composure.

No animosity. No menaces. No evident spite.

Which rendered it more vexing.

Riley eased back a touch in his iced seat.

She hadn't summoned him hither without purpose.

Of that, he felt certain.

And should a purpose exist, it didn't stem from animosity.

But then what?

What did she seek?

Whenever he endeavored to inquire straightforwardly, she would deftly redirect the subject.

Just... discreetly.

Like flakes drifting from a ledge.

He observed her soundlessly.

The Frost Queen wasn't a figure to underestimate.

Should conflict erupt, he would need to invoke his sacred power.

No question there.

She wasn't a foe to confront offhandedly.

And wielding that force offered assurance... alongside peril.

Not to overlook...

Her commanders lingered right beyond the portal.

A few dozen paces at farthest.

Riley sensed them.

Their aura remained unveiled.

Weighty.

Vigilant.

Poised.

Should he err in motion — should his energy veer incorrectly — they would charge forth unhesitatingly.

And that would prove irksome.

Not due to inability to manage them.

But owing to the extent he currently restrained himself.

If he ceased the restraint... this fortress wouldn't endure intact.

"Your musings run profound... "

Her tone drew him forth.

" ... I can't precisely entertain shallow ones in your company. "

She fluttered her lids languidly.

"Your phrasing is valued, yet harbors no malice. I guarantee no injury shall befall you or your cherished one within this stronghold. "

Riley's gaze tightened marginally.

"Are you certain that's prudent to declare here? "

He discreetly eyed the attendants bordering the walls.

Toward the grand entrances.

Toward the commanders stationed past them, who likely overheard each utterance.

At present, the Frost Queen essentially extended regal welcome to him — an invader.

And not merely any invader.

He ranked among the prime causes her beastly horde had been ravaged.

Her elite commanders? He had almost eradicated them due to her directives.

She recognized that.

They recognized that.

Bitterness must seethe beneath.

Fanning that bitterness wasn't shrewd governance.

Even in a bastion governed by might and prowess, allegiance still counted.

She comprehends I'm among the culprits behind her depleted ranks... right?

"Their views hold no sway over me. "

She stated it plainly.

No delay.

No haughtiness.

Merely truth.

"Is that the case... " Riley murmured.

Her stare remained steadfast.

"Within this stronghold, " she proceeded steadily, "might determines rank. Naught more. Naught less. Should they harbor grudge against you, they might contest you. Should they falter, their grudge turns to quietude. "

That offered scant solace.

"That's an exceedingly direct framework, " Riley remarked wryly.

"It proves effective. "

She genuinely disregarded her underlings' sentiments — provided discipline endured.

"Even so, " Riley appended, "reliance isn't dismissed so casually. "

She angled her head faintly.

"I do not dismiss it. I merely forgo dependence upon it. "

Hush enveloped them anew.

Chilled breeze wafted gently over the petite surface.

For a sovereign of a monstrous domain, she articulated with unnerving precision.

She wasn't impulsive.

She wasn't innocent.

Which amplified this scenario's bewilderment.

"Then why summon me? " Riley ultimately queried, his tone more forthright now. "You know my deeds. You know my capabilities. "

Her orbs gentled — marginally.

"Yes. "

"Yet you converse here solo with me. "

A subtle interlude.

Then—

"Because, " she uttered softly, "you prove essential. "