October 10, 1346.
Early in the morning, after her personal maid Irene woke her, Altair was sleepily led by the maids into the washroom to freshen up.
Ever since Altair had become a Witch five days ago, she had given up one of her evening pastimes, and her routine had gradually become more regular over the past few days.
By the time Altair was fully awake, the maids were already wiping her cheeks with warm towels soaked in rosewater.
After washing up, Altair, wearing a loose linen nightgown, went with Vivian to the small dining room for breakfast.
As Altair was spreading homemade strawberry jam on a slice of crisp toast with a silver butter knife, Irene came in with an invitation from Leif.
Altair took the letter and skimmed it. She immediately understood its purpose: Uncle Leif was inviting her to lunch that day.
Sometimes Altair felt rather sorry for the old man. Ever since his only son had enlisted, he rarely came home. Now he was alone in the house, just like her... No, not like her. She had company; the old man didn't.
As noon approached, Altair had Irene help her get dressed. She wore a high-waisted cotton dress with a short wool jacket over it, low-heeled lambskin shoes, and a gauzy hat adorned with blue ribbons and silk flowers. Her hair was half pinned up, and she wore light-colored, short lace gloves. Then she left Sheffield Manor by carriage.
The carriage hadn't been traveling long when Altair, sitting quietly, clearly felt the change in Bexland's temperature. Winter was coming.
Looking through the carriage window at the red maple leaves drifting down onto the street, she remembered that the Loen Kingdom lay in the southeastern part of the North Continent and that winter usually began in the