The morning dawned grey and cold, the kind of morning that made you want to stay wrapped in furs by the fire, watching the flames dance and listening to the wind howl outside the window. But Kaelen was at my door before the sun had fully cleared the mountains, his winter-gray eyes bright with something I had not seen before. It was not the guarded look he wore in council sessions, not the fierce intensity of the battlefield, not the exhausted shadows of the nightmare-haunted nights. It was something softer, almost boyish, a spark of anticipation that made him look younger, lighter, freer.
"Come," he said, extending his hand. "I want to show you something."
