We Reeds

The heavy snow fell without pause. It seemed as though only one color remained between heaven and earth. Snowflakes swirled down, covering the way they had come and burying the path ahead.

The sky was no longer a sky, but an eternally low-hanging dome glowing with a cold, leaden light.

Snow lay knee-deep, burying the boundaries between roads and field ridges and reducing the world to an endless white wasteland.

The howling wind whipped ice crystals against the outer walls of buildings like invisible lashes, setting up a mournful shriek.

The city gates were shut tight and the drawbridges frozen. Any attempt at a long journey without the railway seemed futile and foolish before the merciless power of nature.

For the nobles of Boiham City, this long period of freezing was both confinement and a social season that drew them inward.

They could not go hunting, inspect their lands, or engage in long-distance trade. Their world had shrunk to the handful of noble residences within the city.

And so one salon after another, along with dinners and indoor balls, became the only way to break the silence, maintain relationships, and stave off boredom.

Warm parlors became islands in a world of ice and snow, where candlelight, music, wine, and gossip mingled to create a brief and fragile splendor.

Sir Pavel, newly returned from the Duchy of Weissen, had unsurprisingly become the most popular guest in this closed social circle.

He was like a window suddenly thrown open, letting in a breath of fresh air from the outside world—especially from the legendary Duchy of Weissen.

His experiences, his conversation, even the little Weissen trinkets he carried with him, all became the focus of everyone's attention.

Invitations came flying in like snowflakes, and he had to make his way from one family's