Morning light seeped softly through the frost-kissed panes, casting a pale, silvery glow across Lilian's chamber.
Curled into the small wooden nook, she drew her woolen shawl closer around her shoulders. Between her hands rested a delicate cup of frostbloom tea, which was a famous northern blend with a faint, floral sharpness, its rising steam brushing warmly against her cheeks.
Linda had been insistent that she try it, hovering with an enthusiasm Lilian didn't have the heart to refuse. In the end, she had relented to her wishes.
She took a slow, steady sip. The heat unfurled through her chest, calming the lingering chill. Her lips softened into a faint smile as she lifted her gaze to the world beyond the window.
Peace.
