The cold winter air nipped at my cheeks, making them pink as I snuggled deeper into the warmth of Papa's arms. His hold was firm, protective, and oh-so-warm, like a living fortress keeping the cold away.
The carriage stood ready at the palace gates, the imperial crest gleaming under the pale morning light. The horses shifted restlessly, their breaths puffing out in misty clouds, almost like they were as anxious as I felt.
Snow dusted the ground, a thin, delicate layer that crunched softly with every step of the knights nearby. Everything was so quiet… almost too quiet.
I was bundled up in so many blankets that I looked like a tiny, overstuffed dumpling. Nanny had insisted I wouldn't feel even a whisper of cold, and she was right. The soft wool kept me warm, but it couldn't stop the chill that settled deep inside…
Because… Papa felt different.
His expression was calm, perfectly composed like always. That same unreadable look that made grown men tremble. But…
I could feel it.
