Phoenix gripped his bowl of stew, feeling chilled despite the fire’s flames. Ezra huffed from her table, a hand on her hip. “He used to be such a sweet boy…” She had said it under her breath, no doubt meant for herself only but Phoenix managed to catch it. Had it been because of his brother? From what little he had seen, he wondered if his brother had really meant something to him before he’d been killed? He still kept the knife, after all. Or, was he the way he was because of his mother? He had heard she was far from warm, even to her son. 

He finished the stew as instructed before being helped up by Ezra and dressed in clothes made from animal furs. The fur lining was on the inside, keeping his body heat in versus keeping the cold out. They fit snuggly and he thanked her with true affection. No one had ever given him anything before; ever. The clothes on his back in the Spring Court had been just what was left from other slaves. These were made so well and were warm and comfortable. He wanted to treasure them forever. She bandaged his foot once more, warning him about putting too much strain on it and to stay off of it for at least another three days before Prince Aspen was barging into the cabin once more, clearly impatient. 

She helped Phoenix slide off the kitchen table where Prince Aspen stalked over and scooped him up. He made a small squeak of surprise and his arms immediately wrapped around the Prince’s neck. Ezra gave Prince Aspen a little smirk before handing him the skin bag of supplies. “A fitting image, Your Highness.”

He glared at her before snagging the back and bringing the both of them back out into the cold. He tensed, waiting for the biting cold to cut through him but the fur clothes did their job. He only felt the cold nipping at his cheeks and exposed hands. Chepi was still brown and muddy and he looked none too pleased with the crusted dirt on his once pure white fur but he seemed happy to see Phoenix when Aspen brought him over and slid him up onto his back. Ezra appeared at his side, handing up the fur cloak. “Make sure you keep yourself warm, Phoenix.” she instructed him. “The Winter Court is far colded. Being from the Spring Court, your body will need time to adjust.”

The Chepi huffed into Prince Aspen’s hair and the Prince turned to him, placing a tender hand on his muzzle. “Shh, Mongue. We’re almost ready.” Something about knowing the Chepi’s name made him like the beast more. It was something that was personal to Prince Aspen, something he cared deeply for and giving it a name, seemed to ease the wild animal-like nature of it. He gently scratched at Mongue’s side and the beast gave a rumbling sound that could have resembled a purr. He took the cloak from Ezra and wrapped it around his shoulders once more. 

“Thank you… For everything…” he murmured to her. 

Ezra smiled at him, a knowing but mysterious look in her eyes. “Take care, Phoenix. I see great things for you.” Here, she leaned forward, words meant only for him. “Trust Prince Aspen.” It was all she said before she patted his shin, nodded to the Prince and went back into her cabin. If Prince Aspen had heard what she had said, he didn’t show it. Instead, he patted Mongue on the side of his neck and the two began to move into a path made by footsteps from earlier. 

Trudging into the dark and frigid forest was no longer tortuous with the new clothes and the warm cloak. Mongue gave off a considerable amount of warmth and Phoenix found himself comfortably burrowing down in the saddle and his fur. Even the lack of conversation was no longer suffocating. 

The deeper they went into the forest, the more silent it became until only their breathing, the crunch of snow under paws and boots, and Mongue’s heartbeat could be heard. His breath came out in small puffs that quickly disappeared in the air and Phoenix found himself fascinated by something so simple. In Spring, the weather was always temperate and, to be honest, he’d never even seen snow before. But to see the reality of his breath freezing in the air, it was enough to get him to raise his head off of Mongue’s back and blow into the air like a giddy kid. His excitement made him lose the understanding of the situation and he laughed. “Prince Aspen, look-!” Almost as quickly, he clamped his lips closed and nearly huddled with shame inside the cloak. For a moment, the Prince stopped and looked at him, the same expressionless look on his face. He had been about to tell him about his exciting discovery of his breath freezing, only to realize Prince Aspen was a Prince of Winter and probably found flowers far more fascinating than frozen breath. A flush warmed his cheeks and his scent peppered with embarrassment. Prince Aspen’s eyes only narrowed a moment before he continued on. Phoenix was ignored once more. 

Mongue looked behind him at Phoenix and huffed at Prince Aspen as if he was annoyed with the Alpha’s ignorance of Phoenix as well. But Prince Aspen only glared at the beast as he shoved a snow covered branch out of the way and moved off into a thicker covering of trees. 

Phoenix gave a small little smile and dared to put a hand out from beneath the cloak and pat Mongue’s still mud caked neck. “It’s alright…” He murmured, finding himself becoming more and more attached to the beast. “I was being stupid anyway… Of course he would know about breath freezing.” Even as he said it, he realized how stupid he must have sounded. How would Prince Aspen feel once he discovered he couldn’t read or write? He had been born a slave, trained to keep his head down and not speak unless spoken to. He certainly wasn’t mate material for a prince of all people. He might as well have been a laughing stock. But due to the promise made with Spring, Prince Aspen had no choice but to bring him back to be his mate. Phoenix laid back down on Mognue’s back as the beast pushed through the trees as well, showering Phoenix’s cloak with snow as he brushed under them. He would be okay if he was a mate in title only. He would no doubt take an Omega that was far more accepted for his kingdom to see. While he knew it was probably for the best, he still felt a heaviness in his chest and he curled his hands against it. Being an Omega was probably the worst thing. Everywhere he went, he was rejected and looked down upon. King Midas had been right; there was nothing useful about him except breeding and cleaning. He pulled the cloak up and over his head and he silently cried himself to sleep.