The town beyond Everfrost Castle had come alive with light.
Unlike the bleak hush of winter, when streets lay barren beneath the frost, these gentler days brought warmth—and with it, laughter. When dusk descended upon the land, the folk, weary from toil in the fields, emerged to gather 'round fires, to dance, to celebrate the rare joy of a spring night.
From every alley and square, voices rang out bright and merry. Along the cobbled lanes, market stalls had sprung like wildflowers after snow, their counters laden with food and wares. The scent of roasted meat and sweet bread hung thick in the air, drawing curious passersby as if by spell.
Amid this revelry, two cloaked figures moved in silence, weaving through the throng as shadows amidst flame.
"My lady… it is still not too late to turn back," Lyra murmured, her keen eyes ever-watchful.
