Lady Nida packed her things in a hurry. Her needles, some simple undergarments, and a few of Dacen's gifts were all she took with her. 

Her last stop was the kitchens. The maids would be taking a short break before preparing for dinner; that slim window was all Nida had to pack as much bread and dried meat as she could.

"What are you doing?!"

Nida's head swivelled back. She hadn't heard Tali and Maeve come in.

"I know you're worried, but this!" Tali scolded. "You can't possibly be doing what I think you're doing! You won't survive!"

Maeve skirted around the stout woman and crouched next to Nida, helping fill up the bag. "She's helped us more times than I can count. This is the least we can do."

"There'll be a reckoning for this, I just know it." Tali protested, but she found her hands moving to package dried fruits for Nida anyway. 

"We can handle that," Maeve chimed, her green irises meeting Nida's. "You just worry about getting out of here."

"Well, if you're going to do this, you can't lug that bag around. Here, hand it to me. Padin will bring it to you."

Nida bowed to them both, "Thank...you." She wanted to give each of them a hug, but she feared she'd burst into tears if she did. So, instead, she ran to the courtyard. 

The cold air whipped across her face; the hood of her cape flapped and fluttered from the wind's force. Nida wished to run back inside and fetch a fur coat or gloves at least; the thin white fabric of her dress did her no favours, but, there was no time to waste; if Lord Dacen or the Viscount caught even a glimpse of her, she risked not only herself but the people who helped her.

But, just as she saw of Mister Lancer past the gardens, Lord Dacen called for her. Mister Lancer fell back, hiding behind the hedges.

"Gods, it's cold," Lord Dacen said, catching up to her. Snow dusted his golden brown hair, and the icy wind turned his cheeks to a warm pink. "What are you doing out here?"

"Walking..." Nida responded with a shudder. She was never a good liar. She could only hope that the chattering of her teeth could be mistaken for a symptom of the cold.

"In this weather?"

She nodded. Her heart was beating in her neck. *He's going to figure me out. He knows! I'm sure of it!*

"Let's go back inside then," he said, grabbing onto her wrist.

"No." She said it almost like a whisper, just barely loud enough to be heard over the snowfall.

"What did you say?" he asked, his grip tightening.

Though her body shook, and her limbs were tense, Nida remained steely. She had to come up with something. "Fresh...air."

"Then, we'll open a window."

Perhaps the truth could work instead. "No," she repeated. "I...know about...tomorrow." 

Lord Dacen rolled his eyes. "So you heard us in the study."

"Need time." Nida said softly.

Finally, his grip loosened. "We'll talk later. Don't stay outside forever."

After he left, Nida sighed a hefty sigh, mighty as a gust of wind. Somehow, she had managed to convince him. 

Mister Lancer reemerged, bag in hand. Nida thought he might laugh or joke as he did earlier that day, but instead he merely warned her, clasping her hands in his, "Don't come back here. When you reach the forest, keep your head down. Don't look anyone or anything in the eye. And, if you do, don't run."

"Yes."

"The mountains will be rough. Rest during the day, it'll be too dangerous at night. You know where you're going, right?"

"Amren." The duchy of Amren was just over the mountains; seeing as the Filoris still owed the Amrens money, she could be sure that the Viscount would be less likely to cross over and find her. She could lay low for a little while.

"Good," Mister Lancer said, reaching out to pinch her cheek. He forced a weary smile. "That's our girl."

In that moment, Nida realised that she never truly looked at Mister Lancer. She hadn't noticed how time had written lines into his face; she hadn't noticed how different he looked when he wasn't laughing. But now, quickly as she could, she tried to etch the memory of his face, of Tali's, of Maeve's, of all the people she would leave behind. And, if she could not remember their faces, then she could at least remember their names, Padin Lancer, Tali Lancer, Maeve Otora, Dacen Filori.

Mister Lancer and Nida whispered their goodbyes as she left through the wrought-iron gate's back door. There was an empty plain, covered in a thin sheet of snow, and, then, the forest.

This would be the second time Nida left everyone she loved behind. It didn't hurt any less.

...

Lady Nida had expected to hear horrifying sounds as she entered the forest, perhaps screeching or howling. Something. Anything. Certainly not nothing.

The only sounds she did hear were that of her soles crunching down on the snow and the wind whistling past.

The moonlight, obscured by puffy white clouds, reflected off the snow. Through the canopy, the moon's bluish haze looked like ghosts dancing amongst the snowfall. 

Nida kept her pace steady, not running but not meandering also. Behind her, the Filori estate grew dark, merely a grainy silhouette, and, beyond her, the peak of the mountain seemed to taunt. With every step, the cold bit at her cheeks and fingertips, and pain spread through her limbs. The bag felt 10 pounds heavier.

This suffering, which coiled through her body, made Nida realise she was no longer suited to harsh environments. 13 years ago, back in Hessen, a little bit of snow would have been nothing to her. She'd rush out in her nightgown and make snowballs to throw at her brother with her bare hands. She smiled bittersweetly. Iba, that was his name.

Turning her gaze back to the peak, she squared her body and focused. This was not the time to reminisce.

Another hour passed before she reached the edge of the mountain. Trees grew along its edges and rose into the sky like steeples. 

Then a crunch. Nida feared the worst. She looked behind her. There was no one there. Her own footsteps were already filled with snow.

Then another. This one was closer. She scanned the trees, the canopy, the mountain ahead. With night passing, the forest had grown darker. She couldn't see a thing.

Until she heard the ruffling of feathers. Large, billowing feathers, much louder than those of a silver songbird. 

Nida pivoted to the sound. Unblinking, brilliant vermillion eyes appeared in the darkness. Nida's heart beat into her ears. Her heavy, uncertain breaths cast puffs of white haze around her face. 

She watched the figure, her body frozen in place. She had already looked this creature in the eyes. 

"If you do, don't run." Mister Lancer's words rang hollow in her mind. Running was all she wanted to do.

Another crunch, and the figure became clearer. It stood like a human. Nida's mind went blank. She took off running.