Within a century, life changes. With two passing, so does one's heart. By the seventh, anyone can tell that the world from before would be vastly different.
The mountain now named, "The Frostborne's Castle" by the unlucky was noted to have been uninhabitable. A rumour spread, a vampire lived there, but was grossly underestimated compared to the real event now considered history, or rather, something which never existed.
The royal family simply got rid of their own first children and kept the rest. The mountain was said to just be so cold people went delusional. And this duke who kept following her, was simply irrational.
"Will you marry me today with these flowers, please?" His green eyes were full of hope as he quickly knelt on one knee, dirtying his suit for her as she walked off, ignoring the honey-blonde male and heading to her study.
Although the room was a study, there were barely books as she could not leave the mountain. Only what she wrote, or others had brought. With annoyance, she flicked her wrist to try and keep the door shut, but the man entered through the slightest crack in the window from behind.
"So this is where you went, you teleported again!" He happily chimed and placed the flowers on her desk before politely sitting on the floor. She only had a singular chair within most her rooms.
She wanted to strangle him but refrained. Picking up the flowers, she dropped them all to the store and violently stomped on them. Satisfied, she went back to her book.
She raised her hand and put him at the opposite end. "Was my enjoyment that obvious?" He asked while staring at her shoes. She didn't have the luxury of leaving and wore what he gave her due to the cold, and yet he acted so mighty.
"Please, leave." She said while having the door opened. Sadly, he puffed his cheeks and slammed his sword sideways to stop himself from floating out.
Today was another fail. He asked her to marry him for the 137th time, 4th this week. It was only Tuesday. Each day he would come by, doing his best to profess his love.
Although there were numerous ways to deal with him, he would always come back. Boarding every door, setting a massive blizzard, she even tied beasts to the foot of the mountain and waited for him to leave but ended up watching him tame and skin some, turning the fresh frozen fur to a wooly coat he had custom made at the capital.
She generally considered stomping on him, but she was afraid he would like it. No matter how much she yelled, threatened, and raged he would simply ask for her hand in marriage again, no matter how much she claimed to dislike him.
"Those flowers today were custom made. You mentioned liking lilies?" He asked recalling some trivial detail about herself she offhandedly mentioned. In times like these, there was no way to dislike him as he put his honest all.
Putting her book down, she hummed. "White lilies are not good. Red are preferred," she told before getting up. "they're the color of fresh human blood, the greatest taste." After, she smiled eerily with her face twisted as the light in the background made her look like a monster from a fairy tale book.
Without further delay, he rushed out. She could never tell what was on his mind, or what he took seriously. She made a general statement, an answer to what he asked, and yet he was grinning ear to ear like a child receiving a gift, his favorite at that, and would show up again the next day.
With a sigh, her messy silvery locks fell over her face while she bent over. Picking up the flowers she brutally crushed, she counted the petals before putting them in a vase for safekeeping. If they really could survive winter, then maybe the kids would like them.
Thinking back, it was nearly time to bring the next. The fourth born this season was nearly of age to be taken away, she had been putting things off after he first arrived months back. Although she hated him, he did come at a good time.
Five months ago, her body was frozen solid despite being indoors. Her mind and body were numb as she begun to write. How many centuries had passed? How much longer could the mountain survive?
The townspeople were becoming braver and some claimed she didn't exist. An old folk's tale that even the young ones have been dared to come to this mountain. They never made it to her house nor disturbed the resting place, but she had to wonder what year was it.
Feeling nothing but intense dissatisfaction and tiredness from being in solitude for the last few decades. The next child should come soon, maybe this time she would teach him how to make some food. With nothing to do, she just felt like going to sleep. How old would he be?
Just dozing off, she heard violent screams and the clanging. She even heard gunfire meaning there were definitely people, she felt that a presence of true viciousness invaded her mountain, terribly annoying.
Territory was important to a vampiress, as much as to humans. Pushing herself up, she transported with speed towards the very top of her mansion. A bunch of rogue thieves and their victim?
A bloodied, bruised, and elegant man dressed in the finest of accessories was cornered. His hair was covered in snow but she could make out he had blonde tips. His eyes couldn't stay open as her blizzard grew stronger, a warning to the traitors that if they broke the rules and entered her domain they would not survive her wrath, one that even frostburn would be considered gracious.
"The emperor wants you dead." A man yelled out amongst the thieves. She could hear perfectly as she learned how to block out the never ending screams within the wind and snow. "With you buried here there will be no evidence." He grinned, she could hear and see it all, and she finally pieced together what he wanted.
Although she wanted peace, they wandered dangerously close to the bodies she had laid to rest. At the very least, respect the dead. Perhaps she knew the meaning of sadness with death better than anyone, but to see the blatant disrespect drew her mad.