Chapter 2: The City Beneath the Snow

Cold.

It wasn't the numbing cold of rain.

Nor the sharp sting of winter in Seoul.

This cold was ancient.

It settled into her bones like it had existed long before she had taken her first breath.

Anastasia's eyelashes trembled.

A distant bell echoed through the silence.

Once.

Twice.

Then a chorus of bells answered from somewhere far away, rolling across the morning like waves over a frozen sea.

Her eyes fluttered open.

For several long moments, she simply stared.

Above her stretched an elegant ceiling carved from pale oak, its intricate patterns woven with silver vines and tiny crystal stars that shimmered in the morning light.

A magnificent chandelier hung overhead, every crystal catching the sun like frozen drops of water.

She frowned.

Hospitals didn't have chandeliers.

Slowly, she pushed herself upright.

The blanket that slipped from her shoulders was impossibly soft, lined with white fur she couldn't identify.

The room around her was unfamiliar.

A stone fireplace crackled gently in one corner.

Dark walnut furniture stood polished to perfection.

Heavy sapphire-blue curtains swayed with the breeze coming through a half-open window.

The air smelled of cedarwood, melted beeswax, and lavender.

Nothing looked modern.

Nothing made sense.

"...Where am I?"

Her voice sounded hoarse.

No answer came.

Only the distant bells.

Drawn by instinct, Anastasia climbed out of bed and walked toward the open window.

The icy wind brushed against her cheeks.

Then she saw it.

Her breath caught.

Beyond the palace walls stretched a city unlike anything she had ever seen.

Snow blanketed every rooftop.

Towering sapphire domes crowned magnificent cathedrals, their golden crosses blazing beneath the pale morning sun.

Smoke curled lazily from countless chimneys.

Wide stone streets wound through the capital, already alive with horse-drawn carriages, merchants bundled in thick winter cloaks, and soldiers in dark blue uniforms patrolling the avenues.

Far in the distance stood a river frozen beneath sheets of glittering ice.

It was beautiful.

Silent.

Regal.

A city that looked as though winter itself ruled over it.

Her heartbeat quickened.

"I know this place..."

The words escaped before she realized she had spoken them.

She had never traveled here.

Never seen it in person.

And yet...

Every street.

Every tower.

Every cathedral.

She knew them.

Her fingers tightened around the frosted windowsill.

"... PERTOVA."

The name slipped from her lips like a forgotten memory.

The Imperial Capital.

The heart of the Velikaya Imperiya.

The city where every smile hid a conspiracy.

"No..."

She took an unsteady step backward.

"It can't be..."

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed outside the room.

Before Anastasia could react, the wooden door opened.

A young maid carrying a silver tray entered.

She froze the moment their eyes met.

"You're awake!"

Relief washed across the girl's face.

"I thought the fever had taken you."

Anastasia stared.

The maid wore a simple black dress beneath a crisp white apron.

A linen cap rested neatly over her short hair.

Everything—from her clothes to the way she carried herself—looked exactly as servants had been described in **The Winter Crown**.

The novel.

A chill crawled down Anastasia's spine.

The maid hurried forward.

"How are you feeling?"

"...Who are you?"

The maid blinked. "It's me, Katya."

She tilted her head.

"Have you forgotten me already?"

Katya...

The name stirred something.

A side character.

A palace maid.

She had appeared only a handful of times.

Anastasia's pulse began to race.

No...

No, this wasn't possible.

"This..."

She looked around the room once more.

The furniture.

The fireplace.

The snow beyond the window.

The cathedral bells.

Her breathing became uneven.

"This is..."

Her voice barely rose above a whisper.

"...The Winter Crown."

Katya frowned.

"The winter crown?"

"No..." Anastasia quickly shook her head.

"Nothing."

Katya exchanged a puzzled glance with her.

"You've been talking strangely since you woke up."

A sudden knock interrupted them.

Three sharp knocks.

The door swung open before anyone answered.

An older woman entered.

She was tall, stern, and impeccably dressed in a dark navy gown trimmed with silver embroidery.

Every servant immediately lowered their head.

Even Katya straightened so quickly that the tray rattled.

The woman surveyed the room with piercing gray eyes.

"So."

"You're awake."

Her voice was calm.

But not kind.

Anastasia instinctively lowered her gaze.

"I'm sorry..."

"You should be."

The woman stepped closer.

"The Winter Banquet begins tonight."

"The palace has no time for sick servants."

Servants...

Anastasia frowned.

Was she...?

The woman held out a neatly folded uniform.

"Report to the East Corridor before the second cathedral bell."

Her heartbeat stopped.

The East Corridor.

No.

No.

Her mind raced through the opening chapter of the novel.

The East Corridor was where a palace maid accidentally overheard a conversation between two high-ranking nobles.

She wasn't supposed to hear it.

Before dawn...

Her body was discovered beneath the frozen bridge behind the Winter Palace.

The official report called it an unfortunate accident.

But every reader knew better.

She had been murdered.

Anastasia slowly accepted the uniform.

Her hands trembled.

The housekeeper turned without another word.

As the door closed behind her, the room fell silent once again.

Katya sighed.

"Housekeeper Vera is terrifying."

Anastasia barely heard her.

East Corridor.

Winter Banquet.

The first chapter.

Every event was unfolding exactly as it had in the novel.

"I..."

She looked down at the neatly folded black-and-white uniform in her hands.

A strange unease settled over her.

Something still didn't feel right.

She hurried toward the ornate mirror standing beside the wardrobe.

For a heartbeat...

She expected to see herself.

Instead...

A young woman stared back.

Soft brown hair fell just below her shoulders.

Amber eyes blinked in confusion.

Her features were delicate.

Beautiful.

Completely unfamiliar.

Anastasia stumbled backward.

"...Who..." She touched her own face.

The girl in the mirror copied the movement.

"This isn't..."

Katya looked at her oddly. "What do you mean?"

Anastasia's lips trembled. "My face..."

Katya laughed. "What about it?"

"You still look like Anna."

Anna.

The name struck her like lightning.

Anna.

The unnamed palace maid.

The girl whose death occupied less than two pages.

The girl whose existence every reader had forgotten.

Except Anastasia.

Her knees nearly gave way.

"No..." She whispered.

"No..."

She wasn't the heroine.

She wasn't the villain.

She wasn't even an important side character.

She had become the girl who was never meant to survive the first chapter.

At that exact moment, something on the bedside table caught her eye.

A familiar blue hardcover book.

Its silver title glimmered beneath the morning light.

**The Winter Crown.**

With shaking hands, Anastasia opened it.

The pages turned by themselves.

Stopping at Chapter One.

The ink shimmered.

Then, slowly...

A new sentence appeared beneath the printed text.

A sentence she had never read before.

**Welcome back, Reader.**

Another line followed.

**Survive until sunrise... if you can.**

To be continued.....

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***