Chapter 7: Whispers in the Snow

The smell of fresh bread reached me before I found the kitchens.

It drifted through the corridor with the warmth of baking flour and herbs, a welcome contrast to the winter air that lingered in every other corner of Frostmane. By the time I stepped inside, breakfast had long since ended, but the room was no less busy.

Kitchen maids scrubbed wooden counters while others sorted baskets of vegetables delivered from the lower villages. A pair of servants carried steaming pots toward the dining hall, careful not to spill a drop.

Near the largest worktable, the head cook frowned at a loaf he had just cut in half.

"You've added too much water," he said without looking up.

The young assistant beside him wilted. "I followed the recipe."

"You followed it with enthusiasm instead of attention."

The assistant muttered something that earned him a few amused smiles from the others.

I couldn't help smiling myself. The cook finally noticed me.

"Your Grace."

"Good morning."

His gaze lingered for a moment before returning to the dough.

"If you're here to inspect the kitchens, you've chosen a dull morning."

"I wasn't planning to inspect anything."

I washed my hands at the basin nearby. "I was hoping you might let me help."

He studied me with the same measured look he always seemed to wear. Then he slid a bowl toward me.

"The flour's already measured. Mix the butter into it."

"So that's a yes?"

"It's a test."

I laughed quietly. "I seem to be taking quite a few of those lately."

Something almost resembling approval crossed his face as we worked side by side without much conversation. It wasn't the uneasy silence of strangers. The crackle of the ovens and the steady rhythm of kneading dough made the quiet feel almost comfortable.

After a while, I noticed several baskets stacked near the door.

"They're for the patrols?"

The cook nodded.

"The eastern watch changes before noon."

"That many?"

"There are more people guarding Frostmane than dining in this manor."

He folded the dough neatly before adding, "Cold mountains don't forgive empty stomachs."

I looked at the baskets again. Yesterday, I had watched soldiers patrolling the walls. Today, I found myself thinking about the people who made sure those soldiers never stood their watch hungry. It was another reminder that a fortress wasn't held together by warriors alone.

When the last tray disappeared into the oven, I brushed the flour from my sleeves.

"I've taken enough of your morning."

"You've taken very little."

He wrapped a small pastry in clean cloth and held it out to me.

"For later."

The unexpected gesture caught me off guard. "Thank you."

Before he could answer, Nella appeared in the doorway. "There you are."

She stopped long enough to notice the pastry in my hands.

"I leave you alone for half an hour and the cook starts giving you food."

"He was making sure I didn't interrupt lunch."

The cook snorted.

"I was making sure you didn't interrupt me."

Nella laughed.

"I like that explanation better."

As she steered me toward the corridor, I glanced back once. The head cook had already returned to his work. No grand welcome. No declaration that I'd earned anyone's trust. Just a warm pastry pressed quietly into my hands. For now, that was enough.

Agnes was waiting outside my sitting room.

"I've brought today's correspondence, Your Grace."

She set a silver tray upon the table and stepped aside.

Several letters bore the seals of merchants and neighboring villages. Only one carried the crimson wax of House Verenne. My father's crest. The room suddenly felt colder. I broke the seal. There was no greeting. No question about my health. No acknowledgment that I had crossed half the empire to marry into Frostmane.

Only instructions.

Gain the Duke's confidence.

Learn Frostmane's routines.

Observe the northern defenses.

Report anything useful to House Verenne.

The final sentence tightened something in my chest.

Remember where your loyalty belongs.

I read it twice. Then I folded the letter carefully and walked to the fireplace.

The flames licked at the edge of the parchment before consuming it entirely. The crimson seal blackened, cracked, and disappeared beneath the fire.

Behind me, Agnes waited in respectful silence. Only after the last scrap had turned to ash did she speak.

"Shall I prepare a reply?"

I watched the embers settle. "No."

The answer came more easily than I expected. "I've spent enough of my life following instructions."

Agnes inclined her head. "As you wish, Your Grace."

She asked nothing else. She didn't need to. The empty grate told the story well enough.

The snowfall had eased by the time Nella and I ventured outside. Fresh footprints marked the stone paths where servants had already begun clearing the morning's snow.

"It's quieter today," I said.

"It never stays quiet for long."

Nella tucked her hands into her sleeves as we walked.

"The afternoon patrol should be returning soon."

Our path curved through one of the inner courtyards, where a weathered stone shrine rested beneath an old pine tree. Fresh winter berries had been placed at its base.

I slowed. "The Moon Goddess?"

Nella nodded.

"My grandmother always leaves an offering after the first snowfall."

"For good fortune?"

"For home."

The answer lingered with me long after we'd resumed walking.

After a moment of silence, Nella spoke again. "Have you heard of Lady Elysia?"

"I've heard the name."

"They say the Moon Goddess favors her."

"And you?"

She thought about it seriously. "I've never met her." A faint smile touched her lips.

"I think people are quickest to believe stories they've never seen."

Before I could reply, the sharp crack of wooden practice swords echoed across the courtyard.

"The training grounds," Nella said. "The afternoon session has started."

Warriors filled the snow-covered yard in disciplined rows. Some sparred with wooden blades while others practiced shifting forms under the watchful eyes of seasoned captains.

Near the center stood Evren. He wasn't giving orders from a distance. He moved from group to group, correcting a stance here, adjusting a grip there, speaking just enough for each warrior to understand before moving on.

"He knows all of them," I murmured.

Nella looked surprised. "Of course he does."

As if sensing our arrival, Evren glanced in our direction. His gaze rested on me for only a moment before returning to the young warrior standing before him.

"Again," he said.

The warrior adjusted his footing and repeated the movement.

"Better," Evren said.

It wasn't praise. Just recognition that he'd improved. The young man straightened with renewed determination.

A whistle sounded across the yard, signaling the next exercise. Pairs shifted into place.

One of the younger wolves hesitated as his opponent advanced. His breathing grew uneven, his movements losing their rhythm.

A captain called his name. The young man turned instinctively. His eyes landed on me. For a heartbeat, confusion flickered across his face. Then his wolf reacted before he could.

Everything happened at once. The young warrior lurched forward. Several voices shouted. Before anyone else reached us, Evren stepped into his path.

He caught the young man's forearm, turning the movement aside instead of meeting it head-on.

"Easy," he said steadily. "Look at me."

The young warrior's breathing remained ragged. Evren didn't raise his voice.

"You know where you are."

A long moment passed before recognition returned to the young man's eyes. Shame quickly followed.

"I'm sorry, Your Grace."

"I know."

Evren released him only after the tension had completely left his shoulders. He looked toward the training captain.

"Have him work with the veterans for the rest of the week. His control will improve faster if he matches their rhythm."

"It will be done, Your Grace."

The matter ended there, without public scolding or humiliation.

Training resumed almost immediately. I hadn't realized I was still holding my breath until the yard settled back into its steady rhythm.

"Are you hurt?" Evren's attention had shifted to me. I shook my head. "No."

His expression eased almost imperceptibly.

"Good."

I hesitated before speaking. "Thank you."

"You were under my protection."

The words were simple and matter-of-fact. Yet somehow they carried more weight than I expected.

"I know," I said. "I still wanted to thank you."

For the first time since we'd met, the silence that followed didn't feel uncomfortable.

Snow drifted quietly between us as the sounds of training continued in the background.

Frostmane still hadn't accepted me. Perhaps it wouldn't for some time. But as I watched Evren return to his warriors without another word, one thought settled gently into my mind.

He protected those entrusted to him without hesitation. Today, for a single fleeting moment, that had included me.