Tower of Thorns Tower of Fangs Volume 4 chapter 23

 

Volume IV  The White King

ARC IV  THE HEART OF WINTER

Chapter 23 The Boy and the King

Snow fell softly over Everfrost. Endless white flakes drifting from a pale sky. Silent. Beautiful. Cold. Toivo hated this place. Not because it was dangerous. neither because it was hostile. nor because he was afraid. Because Everfrost made him think too much. About Moon. About the White King. About things he wished he could ignore. Especially the White King. Toivo wandered alone through the frozen gardens. The crystal pathways wound between silver trees and frozen streams. The branches glittered beneath moonlight. Every leaf appeared carved from diamond. The entire garden felt trapped inside a dream. A beautiful dream. A lonely one. Toivo stopped beside a frozen pond. Its surface reflected the night sky perfectly. For a moment he saw his own reflection. Tall. Broad shouldered. Blond. Blue eyed. Then another reflection appeared beside his own. The White King. Toivo immediately frowned.

The White King said

"Good evening."

Toivo seriously considered walking away. The White King noticed. He smiled.

"I deserve that."

Toivo blinked. That was not the response he expected. The White King stepped beside him. Together they stared into the frozen pond. The resemblance was undeniable. Not identical. Never identical. Yet similar enough. Both possessed blond hair. Blue eyes. Northern features. They share similar features yet The white king was taller. The wider frame frame. The same shape of face. The difference lay in refinement. The White King looked like a legend carved from ice. His skin was fairer. His posture flawless. His movements graceful. Everything about him appeared regal. Elegant. Perfect. Like a king from a story. Toivo looked like reality. Scarred hands. Wind-burned skin. A nose broken at least once. Muscles earned through survival rather than nobility.

The White King was what Toivo might have become if life had been kinder. And Toivo hated that realization.

The White King seemed to read his thoughts.

"You're staring."

Toivo crossed his arms.

"So are you."

"Fair."

Silence followed. The frozen garden glowed beneath moonlight.

Eventually the White King spoke again.

"You dislike me."

Toivo laughed.

"No."

The White King raised an eyebrow. The expression looked annoyingly familiar.

"You're lying."

Toivo groaned.

"Fine."

The White King waited. Patiently.

Toivo looked toward the frozen pond. Then finally admitted it.

"I don't know what I feel."

The answer surprised even him.

The White King nodded. That seemed honest enough. More silence.

Then Toivo asked the question he had been carrying for weeks.

"Do I remind you of yourself?"

The White King smiled faintly.

"No."

The answer came immediately. Without hesitation.

Toivo frowned.

"Then why do we look alike?"

The White King stared toward the distant castle.

His expression became thoughtful.

"You don't look like me."

That answer only made things more confusing.

The White King continued softly.

"You look like the boy I used to be."

The words struck unexpectedly.

Toivo looked toward him.

For the first time the White King seemed older. Emotionally. Like someone carrying centuries of regret.

The White King smiled sadly.

"Before power."

A pause.

"Before immortality."

Another pause.

"Before mistakes."

His pale eyes drifted toward the stars.

"You remind me of the person I failed to remain."

Toivo didn't know what to say.

The answer felt too honest. Too human.

The White King laughed quietly.

"You expected something more dramatic."

"A little."

"Sorry."

Toivo found himself smiling despite everything.

The White King noticed. Then his expression softened.

"You love him."

The words struck harder than any axe.

Toivo froze.

The world froze with him.

Even the snow seemed to stop falling.

For several seconds he genuinely forgot how to breathe.

The White King looked entirely unbothered. As though discussing the weather.

Toivo recovered enough to speak.

"...what?"

The White King looked amused.

"You heard me."

Toivo wanted the ice beneath him to crack open and swallow him whole.

Immediately. Preferably now. The White King laughed. A real laugh. The first Toivo had ever heard from him.

"You are incredibly obvious."

Toivo covered his face.

"I hate this place."

The White King laughed harder.

"That makes two of us."

Eventually the laughter faded. Silence returned. Then the White King's voice became quieter. More serious.

"You're fortunate."

Toivo lowered his hands.

The White King stared toward the distant moon.

"Your story is still being written."

The words felt heavier than they should.

"You still have choices."

The frozen wind drifted between them.

"You still have time."

A pause.

"You can still become someone."

Toivo frowned.

"And you can't?"

The White King's smile returned.

Sad. Beautiful. Terribly lonely.

"No."

The answer came softly.

"I already became who I am."

The words carried centuries of regret.

Toivo suddenly understood. The White King wasn't trapped by ice. He wasn't trapped by immortality. He wasn't trapped by Everfrost. He was trapped by the past. A prison far stronger than any wall. The White King looked toward him. For a moment just a moment he looked tired. Very tired.

"Do you know what I envy most about you?"

Toivo shook his head.

The White King smiled.

"Hope."

The answer surprised him.

The White King continued.

"You still believe tomorrow can be better."

Snow drifted through the moonlight.

"You still believe people can change."

A pause.

"You still believe love can end happily."

The last words almost broke.

Almost. The White King looked away before Toivo could respond. Because some wounds never healed. Not even after centuries. Eventually he spoke again. Quietly.

"Don't waste that."

Toivo stared at him. At the king. At the legend. At the man who had everything. And suddenly realized the White King would trade all of it away. The throne. The kingdom. The immortality. The power. Everything. For one more spring day beneath that forgotten sky. One more laugh. One more smile. One more moment. One more chance. The realization changed something. For the first time Toivo stopped seeing him as a rival. Not because the jealousy vanished. It hadn't. Not entirely. But because he finally understood, The White King wasn't competing with him. The White King wasn't trying to reclaim Moon. The White King wasn't trying to win. He had already lost centuries ago. And he knew it. They stood together beneath the falling snow. The boy. And the king. The future. And the past. Looking at one another across a distance neither power nor time could bridge. Then the White King smiled.

A genuine smile.

"You know."

Toivo sighed.

"What now?"

The White King's eyes sparkled faintly.

"You really should tell him eventually."

Toivo nearly died.

The White King laughed all the way back toward the castle.

Leaving Toivo alone in the snow.

Completely horrified. And for the first time since arriving in Everfrost the frozen kingdom felt a little less cold.