It had been four days since the Winterians had left for Jannuari, but it felt as though it had been four months.The steady sway and rhythm of Meira’s horse comforted her, and the faint sound of hoofbeats crunching fresh snow underneath put a smile to her face. She rode a gentle white pony, its fine hair as pure as the falling snow. Home had always been with Sir and Mather and Dendera, an unidentifiable place in her heart, but something about the way the snow perfectly lined the branches of the towering trees made her think of home. But snows, the cold was a force to be reckoned with.
“You’ll get used to the view in about another hour, when your toes start to fall off,"said Theron, trembling under his furs.
"What, the Crown Prince can’t handle his princely toes getting a little cold?"Meira teased, though despite her awe at the beauty of Winter, even she was feeling the cold. She tried rubbing her hands against the rough leather of the reigns, but her hands were too stiff, and it burned. Meira reminded herself of the hardships the other Winterians had gone through. It didn’t lessen the all-encompassing pain.
"If this is a chill, then I’m Winterian,” snorted Theron. Meira laughed at the idea, but then frowned. The Winterians all had clear blue eyes and perfect white hair, their skin paper white. In comparison, Theron with his brown hair and tanned skin stuck out like a sore thumb. She trusted her people, but he was all too easy of a target. If someone meant him ill-will, he would be easy to find. Perhaps she should mention it to him, suggest he wear a hood over his head.
Before she could say something though, Mather rode up to her right on Nayir, his beautiful gray stallion. The beast was a sight to behold, and few dared go near it, but Mather had always had a sort of magic touch when it came to animals. He seemed at ease next to her, and whether it was from riding Nayir or coming back home, or both, Meira was glad. For so long he had acted as the polite but quiet prince, always the perfect diplomat. But since they had left Cordell, he seemed much more like his true self. Her feelings for Theron were growing every day, but sometimes all she needed was her best friend.
When Mather gave a friendly nod to Theron, it was not out of politeness but rather amusement. He enjoyed watching the other prince suffer a little. When Theron gave a vague excuse about finding firewood with some of the hunters, Mather seemed to relax even more.
“Doesn’t get out much does, does he?” Mather snickered under his breath, so that only Meira could hear him. She could see his breath come out in white puffs of air.
“It’s new for everyone. I’m Winterian, and I’m freezing. Snows, you’re Winter’s prince and you look as red as a Cordellan queen!” Meira exclaimed, playfully hitting his shoulder. She felt as though they were the same Meira and Mather they used to be, running around in circles with wooden swords and paper hats. It was good to have her friend back; she felt as though she hadn’t spoken to him in ages. Mather raised a brow at the comparison.
“Why, that’s simply my Winterian blood rising to my face, giving me the strength to survive this cold!” Mather said, holding a hand to his chest in mock outrage.
“Oh, really? And I suppose it was your Winterian nobility that watched over the children in the tent, while the rest of us froze to death out here in the snow?” Meira retorted.
“I am nothing if not responsible. Besides, you were the one living in the lap of luxury in Cordell. Give the rest of us peasants a chance, will you?”
“You? A peasant?”
“I’m hardly a prince. Not the kind you seem to like, anyhow,” Mather mumbled, looking down.
“What does that mean?” Meira asked, pulling her horse to a stop. Her voice raised at the sudden change in conversation. Mather let out a deep sigh, and closed his eyes resignedly.
“That’s not what I meant. Snows, It was an ass thing to say. I just…I just feel a little inadequate. He has a whole kingdom to inherit, and I don’t even know in what state we’ll find Jannuari in. For all we know, it could be completely demolished. I’m marching my people on the hope that we just might find a place to stay,” he sighed. Meira put a gloved hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eye.
“Your people were slaving away in Angra’s prisons before we saved them. At least now they have a noble cause to die for,” Meira said reassuringly.
“But how many deaths will I have on my hands by the end of this? They are so close to everything they have ever dreamed of. What if I fail them?” Mather looked on to the endless procession of Winterians. Their hunched backs were covered in furs, their pale skin sagging against their bones. Babies were swaddled in rags and strips of leather, bony children huddled around each other for warmth. It was a miserable sight, and certainly not the one Mather had always envisioned when dreaming of Winter.
The two rode side by side in silence, unsure of what to say. Mather could not bear to see the pity in Meira’s eyes; Meira was frustrated with the situation. An hour had passed like this before they heard news from a young scout.
The scout looked frail, as though at any moment she would be blown away by the wind. Her white hair was cut short, loosely framing her narrow face, and her sallow skin hung loosely on her bones. She proved fast though, and came darting through the crowd like a sailing arrow.
“Prince Mather! I bring news of Jannuari!” she called out, her voice ringing clear over the noise of the Winterians. The Winterians stopped dead in their tracks, eyes widening with hope. They turned expectantly towards Mather, and Mather cursed under his breath, not wanting to raise their already high hopes. The scout stopped short at Mather’s horse and caught her breath.
“Darius was digging holes for the tents, Your Highness, when he hit something hard underfoot. He called out for Terrian-Terrian is a blacksmith, of sorts- and Terrian said it was definitely a piece of ore, but he wasn’t sure if it was safe to dig it up. He didn’t want to damage it, you see. Terrian’s smart like that,” the scout rambled. Mather gave a huff of impatience and motioned for her to continue.
“Well, anyways, we called out for one of them nice ladies with you-what’s her name again? The one with the lot of hair on her head and the fancy clothes?”
Meira smirked at the description, but Mather was not so amused.
“I assume you mean Lady Dendera?” The scout nodded and lowered her head, seeming to remember her place. Meira shot Mather an odd look, but assumed he needed to act the part of monarch before gaining their respect.
“Lady Dendera came over and inspected the ore, and said did you know that ore is one of the major resources of Jannuari? I said I did not, and she told me to report this immediately to you, and here I am.” The scout seemed incredibly pleased to be the one delivering the news, and her smile stretched wide across her face. Mather sighed.
“Ore is a common enough resource all over Winter. We must reclaim Jannuari, or we’ll have no hope,” sighed Mather, his voice low enough so that only Meira and the scout could hear. He raked a hand through his ruffled hair. He had so wished to have good news for his people, but the situation was looking more desperate than ever. The days were short in Winter, and night would soon be upon them. He knew the Winterians to be resilient people, but he wondered just how much their faith in him would extend.
Meira turned to look at him, an idea forming in her mind.
“How long do you think we’ve been traveling within Winter? How many miles?” Meira asked suddenly. Mather shot her a questioning look.
“I reckon it’s been ‘bout four days, my lady. Couldn’t tell you how far we are, though,” shrugged the scout. Meira gave a kick to her horse and rode ahead, returning quickly with Farina at her side. Farina had managed to find refuge in Summer after the War with her wife Ilya. She had shaved her head close to her scalp and darkened her eyebrows, quickly learning the best ways to evade Angra. Her forehead was lined with years of hard work, and she always seemed to wear a mean look. She was also one of the smartest people Meira knew.
“Farina, how many miles do you think we’ve traveled since entering Winter?” Meira asked, turning towards her. Meira’s voice was calm, polite even, but her face shone with excitement.
“About fourteen miles, give or take. Maybe fifteen. It’s hard to know what with all the stops we’re taking,” she huffed, resting a hand on her hip.
“And from what entry port did we arrive through?”
“Well…I suppose it would be the northern port. Why?” With this Farina raised a brow, seeming to understand Meira’s train of thought. Mather, on the other hand, was completely lost.
“If we’ve been traveling about fifteen miles from the northern port, then we must only have two or three miles from the capital,” Meira exclaimed. She turned to Mather. “Mather, we’re this close to Jannuari!”
Mather’s eyes widened and a wide grin spread across his face. Below them the scout looked excitedly between the three of them. She pushed a lock of hair from her face and licked her licks. “Shall I go tell the others? The scouts, I mean,” she fumbled. Her legs seemed unsure of what to do. Mather gave a nod and she darted off back into the crowd. Farina walked on after her, a new spring in her step. Meira and Mather’s eyes met and, from the great height of their horses, their hands met.
“I can’t believe it. You’re incredible,” Mather breathed. His voice was filled with such deep admiration; Meira looked away and blushed.
“Yes, well…I am pretty great,” she sighed. She had never seen that look in his blue eyes directed to her, and she felt slightly hot under his gaze. Taking her hand from his, she gripped the reigns and gave a swift kick to her horse. She would settle her feelings for Mather later. Right now, she had a capital to reclaim.
