Frost is still there... sort of. More accurately, what remains of Frost is there, crumpled on the floor and obviously dying. Not long after it ends, he will manage some frail, spiteful tittering despite his imminent mortality, though for the first time he seems genuinely disappointed and distressed.

"You stupid bitch," he wheezes, the magical form of his body torn and bleeding aura into the air. "You couldn't even die right."

The Winter Queen looks in his direction from her own crumpled place on the floor. Yet, it doesn't seem like her thoughts are quite clear enough to process it.

"Frost..." she says, with a muddled but obvious sense of betrayal. "You..." She looks at Reira and then shakes her head. "No, don't touch me." She's defensive, but something about it seems more self deprecating than offended.