CHAPTER 1.6 - SNOW PRINCESS'S SORROW

It was freezing cold in this place. The whiteness of the snow covered everything it touched, transforming the vast forest into a snowy landscape. It was a somber and desolate place, where the occasional rustle of the trees and sounds of animals were the only interruptions to the eerie silence. Nestled among the snow-covered trees, a towering castle stood, its presence exuding solitude and a bone-chilling coldness that could be felt by anyone who laid eyes upon it.

Seated in one of the numerous rooms of the castle, a girl watched the snowflakes gently descend to the ground, her gaze filled with longing. Her ruby-red eyes occasionally wandered to the front gates, eagerly awaiting their opening. It had been months since her papa had promised to return. With a sigh of annoyance, the girl couldn't help but feel a sense of annoyance.

Yet another day passed, and she found herself lost in the repetitive cycle of waiting and wondering when her papa would finally come back. Suddenly, a gentle knock could be heard, and the door to the room swung open. Two young women with similar red eyes, dressed in maid uniforms, entered with a tray of delicious-looking food.

"My lady, I have come to bring you your breakfast," one of the maids said.

The young girl turned her head and replied dismissively, "Just put it there. I'll eat later."

"My lady, please. You already skipped last night's dinner," said one maid with concern.

The second maid nodded in agreement and added in a more monotone voice, "Yes, please eat the breakfast."

The young girl huffed in frustration and reluctantly made her way to a small dining table in the room. The maids diligently prepared and arranged plate after plate of food. The young girl's eyes twitched at the sight.

"I can't eat this much," she complained.

"My lady, this meal was made with your nutritional needs in mind. Please try to finish all of it," one of the maids insisted.

The young girl grumbled unintelligibly but reluctantly picked up her fork and knife to start eating. As she ate, her gaze shifted towards one of the maids—the more lively one.

"Any news about papa from grandfather?" she inquired.

The maid shook her head. "I'm afraid not, my lady. Lord Jubstacheit is still unwilling to share any information."

Clicking her tongue in annoyance, the young girl muttered, "Idiot grandfather," before continuing with her meal.

The room fell silent, the only sounds being the occasional clinking of utensils against plates. The two maids stood still, waiting. The young girl despised this silent and cold atmosphere. She missed the days when her papa was here, taking her out to play—playing hide and seek in the castle, hunting for chestnuts, building snowmen, and more. Mama would occasionally join them, whenever she wasn't busy assisting her grandfather. At night, she would sleep nestled between her papa and mama, listening to bedtime stories before drifting off to sleep.

Now, she couldn't do any of those things anymore. No more playtime, no more fun, and no more warmth in the castle. She glanced at the two maids beside her, the ones her grandfather had ordered to cater to her every need.

"Sella, Leysritt," she called them.

"Yes, my lady?" Sella responded with the professionalism expected of a maid.

"Yes?" Leysritt, Sella's sister, answered in a more laid-back tone.

"I told you that I don't want you two to be so formal. It's honestly annoying. Just call me Illya."

Sella looked reluctant. "I'm sorry, my lady, but it's proper for us to show the respect you deserve."

Leysritt, on the other hand, hummed and nodded. "Sure, Illya."

"Leysritt!" Sella exclaimed, shocked.

"What? Illya told me to do it, so I did," Leysritt simply responded.

Sella was fuming. "Y-You..."

The young girl giggled, finding amusement in the interaction. "Now that's more like it. That's why I like you more than Sella."

Hearing her words, Sella's jaw dropped. She glanced at her sister and noticed Leysritt giving her a smug smile. Sella gritted her teeth, huffed, and turned her head away from Leysritt.

"Anyway," The young girl clapped her hands to get the attention of the two maids. "What's my schedule for today?" she asked.

Sella cleared her throat, regaining her composure. "For today, my lady, you will have another lesson in the basics of Einzbern magecraft."

"Nothing different, huh?" Illya remarked.

"For now, yes. But soon, my lady, you will receive personal lessons from Lord Jubstacheit himself..." Sella's gaze shifted downward, aware of her lady's not-so-subtle dislike for her own grandfather.

Illya's expression remained indifferent upon hearing this. Months of essentially being alone in the castle had taught her to hide her emotions better. While she would love to slap her grandfather once and maybe even deliver a punch to his gut, she knew how much control he had over the castle.

Why did she feel this way toward her own grandfather? It was simple—he was a jerk.

There was a day when she missed her papa and mama so much that she went to her grandfather to ask where they were. Not only did he ignore her, but he also swatted her to the floor when she wouldn't leave him alone. The harsh, cold look her grandfather gave her that day still sent chills down her spine.

"Compose yourself, act like a proper Einzbern," he said.

After that she had bolted to her room, crying herself to sleep.

Then, one day, her grandfather's mood hit an all-time low. She didn't witness it directly, but she occasionally heard him curse her father—traitor, heretic, thief—followed by the sound of something being thrown against the wall. The rage was short-lived and quickly replaced by his usual silent, cold demeanor, but this time, it felt different.

Since that day, her grandfather had worn a look as if he were about to burn someone alive. He approached her one day and told her that he would shape her into a proper Einzbern, that she would fulfill the Einzbern family's dreams. And so, her lessons in magecraft began.

The young girl disliked it all. Her grandfather was obsessed—Einzbern this, Einzbern that. Every word that came out of his mouth was about how she would fit perfectly into the Einzbern plans. At this point, she couldn't care less about the Einzberns. She even doubted whether her grandfather knew her name.

Illyasviel Von Einzbern—a precious name given to her by her papa.