CHAPTER 208: CHAPTER 208 – COLD BLANKETS AND A SLOW MORNING

That morning greeted her in a different way.

From behind Sylvia’s bedroom window, the dew that usually left only thin stains had turned into a layer of frost clinging to the glass. The sunlight seeping in from outside reflected against it in a pale shimmer, as if the window were decorated with frozen jewels.

Sylvia slowly opened her eyes. Her eyelids felt heavy not from fatigue, but from the biting chill of the morning air. Her body itself wasn’t affected by the cold , her blood no longer flowed, her skin forever cool but something in her mind still connected this sight to the sensation of freezing.

She gazed at the frosted pane for a moment, then drew a small breath."So cold..." she murmured, even though she knew her body couldn’t truly feel it.

With languid movements, she pushed herself halfway upright in bed. The thick black blanket slipped from her shoulders, exposing pale skin beneath her dark nightgown, which did little to shield against the imagined chill. She had thought to rise, but the instant her toes touched the stone floor, her body reflexively screamed frozen.

Sylvia frowned and, without another thought, pulled herself back into bed. The thick blanket cocooned her once more, this time even over her head, leaving only a small gap for breath.

"...Better to delay getting up a little," she whispered, her voice muffled by fabric.

The room was silent, broken only by the faint sigh of wind slipping through the window’s gaps. The sheer curtains swayed gently, adding to the sense that this morning was no friend to activity. Sylvia closed her eyes again, letting time pass without thought of duties or the pile of reports awaiting her.

But her mind would not fall still. Amidst the silence, Sofia’s face drifted into her thoughts once more golden hair, calm blue eyes, that tender smile. All warmer than any blanket could ever be. Sylvia pulled the covers tighter, as though to trap that vision within and keep it from slipping away.

Minutes passed. Perhaps longer; there was no clock to mark the time in her chamber. At last Sylvia sighed deeply and pushed the blanket back from her face.

"If I stay here any longer, Celes will surely break down the door and drag me out." A faint smile tugged at her lips.

This time, she sat up more firmly. Her long black hair spilled in disarray over her shoulders, some strands clinging to her pale skin. She ran her fingers through it slowly, then stood.

Her steps carried her lazily to the window. Pressing her palm against the glass, she saw her touch fog it anew. Outside stretched the castle grounds, thinly veiled in snow; frozen trees with stiffened branches; small birds flitting low, searching for food among the ice.

There was an odd tranquility in it all. The world looked still, almost breathless. Sylvia wiped away a patch of frost with a lazy swipe of her hand and whispered,"Winter in this world... is no gentler than Earth’s."

She turned and walked to the bath chamber. The stone tub, warmed the night before, had grown cold again. Sylvia only gave it a glance before deciding against bathing this morning. Instead, she fetched a small pitcher from the shelf, filled it from the large basin, and warmed it briefly with nether flame. Thin steam curled up as she splashed her face.

The strange sensation warm on her skin, yet always cold at her core made her breathe out with quiet relief. She smoothed her hair as best she could, then donned her long black gown, layered over with a thick fur-lined mantle. She didn’t need it, but she liked the sense of normalcy it gave.

Once ready, Sylvia left her room. The castle corridors were filled with chill air; even the torch flames seemed to shrink, as if beaten back by the season. The zombie soldiers standing guard remained unmoving, untouched by the cold, though a thin rime of frost clung to their armor.

She walked toward the grand hall. There, the long table was already covered with documents left by Celes the night before. Sylvia sighed softly."So much for hoping this morning would be peaceful."

Before sitting, she stepped out onto the castle’s main balcony. Her gaze swept across the wide landscape: the river beginning to freeze, the lake crusted with a thin sheet of ice, the forest branches glittering white.

"If Sofia were here..." she murmured, "she would already be fetching another blanket for me."

A faint smile curved her lips, warmer than before. She lingered there, letting the icy wind touch her face.

At last, she turned back inside. The morning she thought she could postpone still demanded to be lived. Yet something felt lighter within her heart as though the frost itself had carried Sofia’s shadow to her side, keeping her company though far from home.

Sylvia exhaled long as her eyes landed on the mountain of parchment stacked on the hall table. Like a small hill of ink, seals, and paper. Each sheet heavier, it seemed, than a spear thrust on the battlefield.

Thankfully, this castle was ninety-nine percent filled with zombies. They did not eat, did not sleep, did not complain, did not write reports. They only stood, awaited orders, carried them out. Life was simpler that way.

Otherwise, she would already be exhausted keeping track of how much bread, meat, or soup would be needed to feed thousands daily. At times she thought, if the castle were full of humans, she would be acting more as head cook than queen.

She picked up a document, eyeing Celes’s meticulous handwriting, always neat, always too detailed."Hmm. Inventory of building supplies... distribution routes for magic crystals... report on west wall repairs..."

Her shoulders sagged.

"...If Sofia were here, she’d smile and tell me to read it slowly. Then she’d just snatch the papers from me and read them herself."

She set the sheet back down, propping her chin on her hand.

Stacia and Alicia had yet to return from their journey. Weeks had passed since their departure, and though Sylvia knew both were strong, she couldn’t fully shake the worry gnawing at her. They were adventuring in this strange world, searching for ways to perfect dimensional magic. While she... could only wait in the castle.

"Waiting... is not my strength." Her smile was faint, tinged with bitterness.

Aurelia too had returned to the human city. That woman always had her own affairs, politics, ties with nobility, keeping order so the city did not fall into chaos. And so the castle was left with Sylvia, Celes, and the countless obedient dead.

The silence was at times comforting, but more often... hollow.

Sylvia glanced around the grand hall. Gray stone walls cold as ever, magical torches flickering faintly, motionless shadows of zombie guards flanking the doors. No human voices. No Alicia’s playful teasing. No Stacia’s constant theorizing. No Aurelia’s calm but piercing remarks.

Only herself, paper, and silence.

"Queen of zombies, mistress of a castle, commander of thousands... and full-time workers," she muttered softly, almost as though joking with herself.

She reached for a black cup beside the papers. Only water filled it. No tea, no coffee. Just cold water that caught the light. She stared at it for a while, then sighed, took a small sip, and turned back to the documents.

This time she tried to read more seriously. But the words on the page quickly turned into stiff rows of meaningless symbols. Her focus faltered. Her mind betrayed her summoning Sofia’s face again, her gentle voice, her smile.

Sylvia shut her eyes. Her fingertip tapped slowly against the tabletop, as though following a rhythm only she knew."If only you were here, Sofia..."

She didn’t finish the sentence. The longer she said it, the greater the distance between them seemed to grow.

The hall door creaked softly. From behind it stepped Celes, her stride calm yet brimming with purpose as always. Her silver hair caught the dim torchlight, and in her arms rested a thick new stack of documents.

Sylvia only cast it a brief glance before letting her forehead fall onto the table."...Don’t tell me that’s for me too."

Celes stopped before the grand table, carefully setting the stack down beside the previous reports. "Additional records, Your Majesty. From the logistics division, as well as several notes from the patrol units."

Sylvia lifted her head slowly, red eyes narrowing, lips curving into a very clear pout."Celes..." her voice was low, half-petulant, half-accusing. "I only just started on the old ones. And now you bring more? Do you intend to bury me alive beneath paper?"

Celes, ever composed, inclined her head slightly. "Reports cannot be delayed, Your Majesty. If left unchecked, the backlog will worsen. The sooner addressed, the sooner completed."

Sylvia pressed her palm flat against the papers in front of her, as though that might make them vanish. "Sooner finished for you, perhaps. For me, this is punishment."

Celes’s gaze softened, though her tone remained steady. She plucked one sheet from the new pile and set it before Sylvia. "This one is important. Movement of unidentified creatures in the eastern valley. Not dangerous for now, but worth recording."

Sylvia exhaled heavily, then slumped into her chair with a morose expression. "Sometimes I think it would be easier to fight ten thousand soldiers than to read ten thousand letters on a page."

Celes’s lips curved into the faintest smile, amused. "That is why I am here to ensure you don’t overlook what matters."

Sylvia’s crimson eyes narrowed, her pout deepening. "Hmph. You do enjoy watching me suffer, don’t you?"

Celes bowed her head once more, offering no denial. Yet in her dim gaze, a faint glimmer betrayed something almost mischievous.

Sylvia finally huffed, snatching up the sheet with lazy reluctance, reading it while still pouting. "Fine... but you’ll read the rest to me. Otherwise, I’ll pretend I never saw them."

"As you command, Your Majesty," Celes replied, voice soft yet unwavering.

And for the first time that morning, Sylvia yielded to the mountain of parchment though her expression remained that of a sulking child forced to eat bitter vegetables.