The Ice King's Queen
“My name is James. I am the head butler of the Goven family. Your grandfather has been searching for you for years now.”
Dukia couldn’t speak, she was just gawking.
“He regrets everything that happened,” James continued, holding the umbrella above her head, “more than you can possibly imagine. He would like to apologize and beg for your forgiveness. He would like to give you what is yours.”
He brought out a picture from his breast pocket, Dukia took it with trembling fingers.
A little girl of about six years old, grinning on a swing. Her father’s hands pushing her from behind and her mother waving from a garden chair.