Chapter 5: First Frost

Morning arrived quietly. Pale sunlight filtered through frost-covered windows, casting silver patterns across the floor of my chambers. Outside, snow drifted lazily from the gray sky, blanketing Frostmane in another layer of white.

For a moment, I stayed beneath the heavy furs, listening. The manor was already awake. Distant footsteps echoed through the corridors. Somewhere below, doors opened and closed. Faint voices drifted upward before disappearing into the morning hush. Life here began long before sunrise.

A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.

“Your Grace?”

Agnes entered after receiving my permission. As always, her posture was flawless, her expression carefully composed.

“The Duke left before dawn. The morning patrol reported heavy snowfall along the eastern pass.” So he was already working. Somehow, that didn't surprise me.

Agnes drew back the curtains, letting more light spill into the room.

“Breakfast is prepared. Lady Nella will accompany you afterward.”

“Lady?”

A flicker of confusion crossed my face.

“The young attendant assigned to assist you,” Agnes replied. “She insists on introducing herself properly.”

Before I could ask another question, the door opened again.

A young woman hurried inside so quickly that she nearly tripped over the edge of the carpet.

“Oh! Your Grace, I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking, I mean, I was looking, just not at the floor.”

She froze, cheeks turning bright red.

“I've already embarrassed myself, haven't I?”

For the first time since arriving in Frostmane, I almost laughed.

“You've only been here for five seconds.”

She blinked. “Is that a good sign?”

“I think so.”

Relief spread across her face so quickly it was almost contagious.

“I'm Nella,” she said with a quick bow. “I'll be helping you learn your way around Frostmane. Well, if you don't mind me talking too much.”

Agnes sighed quietly. “She always talks this much.” “I do not,” Nella protested. A beat later, “Usually.”

Despite myself, the corners of my lips lifted. Perhaps my first morning in Frostmane wouldn't be quite as lonely as I'd expected.

After breakfast, Nella happily led the way through Frostmane.

“The manor is much bigger than it looks,” she said, walking a little too fast before remembering to slow down. “I've worked here for three years and I still get lost sometimes.”

“I'll try not to wander off, then.”

“Oh, please don't. The west wing is confusing enough without having to search for a missing duchess.”

I laughed softly.

“I'll keep that in mind.”

Nella smiled, looking pleasantly surprised that I'd responded at all.

The corridors were lined with polished stone, their walls decorated with old banners embroidered with silver wolves. 

Tall windows overlooked snow-covered cliffs, while braziers burned steadily, chasing away the mountain chill.

“This is the library,” Nella said, pausing before a pair of carved oak doors. “It's one of my favorite places.”

Inside, towering bookshelves stretched toward the ceiling. Sunlight poured through frosted windows, giving the room a quiet, peaceful glow. The scent of old parchment and cedar filled the air.

“It feels alive,” I said after searching for the right word.

Nella nodded eagerly.

“I think so too.”

They continued through the manor until warm air drifted toward them.

“The kitchens!”

The moment we stepped inside, the comforting smell of fresh bread, herbs, and simmering stew wrapped around me. Servants hurried between long wooden tables while cooks worked over steaming pots.

For a brief moment, the warmth reminded me of my grandmother's kitchen. Without thinking, I rolled up my sleeves.

The head cook frowned.

“Your Grace?”

“The dough looks a little dry,” I said gently. 

“May I?”

The cook hesitated before silently handing me the bowl.

I poured in a small splash of warm water and folded the dough carefully instead of kneading it too roughly.

“It stays softer that way,” I explained.

The cook pinched off a small piece, baked it quickly over the hot oven, then tasted it.

His eyebrows rose ever so slightly. “Better.” That single word felt like a victory.

As I washed the flour from my hands, Nella stared at me with wide eyes.

“You.” She stopped herself. “What is it?” I asked.

She lowered her voice. “I thought you would yell if something wasn't perfect.”

Silence settled between us.

I blinked.

“Why would I do that?”

Nella's face immediately paled.

“I'm sorry! I shouldn't have said that!”

She bowed so quickly I thought she might fall over.

I gently touched her sleeve.

“It's alright.”

But as we left the kitchens, her words lingered in my mind.

Someone had taught the people of Frostmane to expect anger whenever Lady Odette Verenne entered a room.

Leaving the warmth of the kitchens behind, Nella led me through a stone archway into the gardens. Winter had claimed almost everything.

Snow rested on trimmed hedges, and the fountain at the center lay frozen beneath a thin sheet of ice. Yet, despite the cold, patches of evergreen shrubs and pale winter flowers stubbornly clung to life.

“It's beautiful,” I murmured.

“It is,” Nella agreed. “The gardeners work very hard to keep it alive.”

As we walked farther in, my attention caught on a small flower bed near the wall.

Unlike the rest of the garden, it had been neglected. Weeds poked through the snow, and several frost-resistant flowers had withered beneath broken branches. Without thinking, I knelt.

“What are you doing, Your Grace?” Nella asked.

“Just helping a little.”

Carefully, I brushed away the snow, removed the dead leaves, and straightened the bent stems that still had life in them.

My grandmother used to say that even flowers needed someone willing to notice them.

A shadow fell across us.

“So you've returned to play your little games.”

I looked up to find an elderly man in a heavy wolf-fur cloak standing a few steps away, his weathered face hard with disapproval.

Nella immediately lowered her head.

“Elder Rowan,”

His cold gaze remained fixed on me.

“Leave the garden.”

I slowly rose to my feet.

“I only wanted to tidy up.”

“You've ruined enough things.”

His voice was calm, but every word struck like ice.

“For years, you mocked the work of those who cared for this place. Do not pretend kindness now.”

My throat tightened. I couldn't defend myself. The woman he remembered wasn't me. Yet the hurt she had caused still remained.

From an upper balcony, I caught sight of Evren. He had stopped walking. For a brief moment, our eyes met.

I wondered if he would say something.

He didn't.

After a quiet pause, he turned and continued on his way. Something inside me sank, though I couldn't blame him. Trust wasn't built in a day.

As evening settled over Frostmane, I wandered back to the library alone. The silence welcomed me.

Drawn to a shelf near the back, I found an old volume bound in faded blue leather.

Legends of the Moon Goddess.

As I opened it, something felt wrong. Several passages had been neatly scratched out. Entire names had vanished from the pages.

Someone hadn't merely damaged this book.

They had wanted parts of its story to disappear.

I gently closed the cover. For the first time since arriving in Frostmane, I felt certain of one thing.

The secrets buried beneath this mountain were far older than I was.