It was a secret delight of hers, a pleasure shared not even with the man she was slowly trusting with her weakness. Attuning to the cold, feeling it rush through her veins, seep into her with every breath... There was nothing like it, not even the hot joy of slaughter.
And when snowflakes starred her hair without melting, Capricia twirled in the sunlight and laughed at how she glittered as if scattered with diamonds.










