Chapter 4: Cracks in the Ice
773 Words
Nicholas tried to ignore her.
For the next few days, he focused on everything except Alina. He threw himself into the workshop’s operations, scrutinizing every detail, every toy, every route calculation. He snapped at the elves, double-checked schedules that didn’t need checking, and spent more hours than usual in his office, pretending that Alina’s presence wasn’t throwing off his carefully controlled world.
But she was.
And the worst part? She knew it.
Alina didn’t press him, didn’t try to make conversation when he was in one of his moods, but she was always there. Always working. Always efficient. Always capable—which somehow irritated him even more.
Nicholas wasn’t used to being challenged. He wasn’t used to anyone standing their ground against him. And he certainly wasn’t used to someone like her—someone who wasn’t intimidated, someone who didn’t need his approval.
And yet… something about her presence unsettled him.
It was in the little things.
The way she hummed softly as she worked, filling the office with an absentminded tune that made it feel less cold.
The way she spoke to the elves—not as an authority figure, but as an equal, making them laugh, easing their stress.
The way she never reacted to his sharp words the way others did, only rolling her eyes as if he were nothing more than a stubborn child.
And the way, when she thought no one was looking, she would go completely quiet, her expression falling into something unreadable—something almost… sad.
Nicholas didn’t care. Not really.
At least, that’s what he told himself.
It was late when he found her outside again.
The North Pole was bathed in silver moonlight, the snow stretching in endless waves of white. The air was crisp, sharp against his skin, but Alina stood by the frozen lake, seemingly unbothered by the cold.
Nicholas considered turning back. He wasn’t in the mood for another round of her infuriating self-assurance. But before he could step away, she spoke.
“You don’t like the cold, do you?”
Nicholas frowned. “What?”
She turned slightly, her breath curling into the night air. “You’re always bundled up more than necessary. The coat, the gloves, the scarf.” She tilted her head. “Strange, considering where we are.”
Nicholas clenched his jaw. “I don’t see how that’s your concern.”
“It’s not.” She shrugged. “Just an observation.”
Silence stretched between them, the only sound the whisper of the wind against the ice.
Nicholas exhaled sharply. “You ask too many questions.”
She smiled faintly. “And you avoid too many of them.”
His irritation flared, but not in the way it usually did. This wasn’t the usual frustration he felt when people failed him—this was something else.
Something he didn’t like.
“I don’t avoid things,” he said flatly.
Alina turned to face him fully, her blue eyes steady. “Then tell me something real, Nicholas.”
He stiffened. “What?”
“Something real.” She folded her arms. “Not about Christmas. Not about work. Not about the elves.” A pause. “Just you.”
Nicholas felt the weight of her words settle over him, heavy like the snow around them.
He didn’t do real. He did control. He did efficiency. He did perfection.
But real?
He scoffed. “I don’t see the point.”
Alina studied him for a moment, then smiled—a small, sad kind of smile.
“I figured,” she murmured.
She turned to leave.
Nicholas should have let her.
He should have walked away.
Instead, before he could stop himself, the words slipped out.
“I hate the cold.”
Alina stopped.
Slowly, she turned back to him, surprise flickering across her face. “You… what?”
Nicholas clenched his jaw. He hadn’t meant to say it. But now that he had, there was no taking it back.
“I hate it,” he muttered, glaring at the snow beneath his boots. “Always have.”
Alina didn’t speak right away. When she finally did, her voice was soft. “Then why do you stay here?”
Nicholas lifted his gaze, something unreadable in his expression. “Because I have to.”
Alina held his stare, something shifting in her own eyes. Something knowing.
And for the first time since she had arrived, Nicholas had the unsettling feeling that she understood.
Not just his words.
Him.
And that realization scared him more than anything else.
- Writer
