Hazel woke to blinding sunlight through shutters, snow piled so high it covered half of window. Cold but clear. Wind stopped.

Alaric was already awake, sitting on edge of bed, pulling on pants. Shirt still off, scar from poison tea still red on chest, but eyes clear.

"Where you going?" Hazel mumbled, tangled in furs, Aurella still asleep in cot.

"To bring Luna to hall," he said, looking back at her. "If you can walk."

"I can walk," Hazel said, pushing furs off. Her knees still purple, but not bleeding. Hands wrapped, but better.

Alaric watched her stand in bloody dress, bare feet, hair mess, mother's box still on table....