Silverfall Duchy
The next day, after hours of travel, they finally arrived at their destination.
The capital had been warm, bathed in the golden hues of summer, but the moment they crossed into the Silverfall Duchy, it felt as if they had stepped into a different world altogether.
Winter reigned here.
A relentless, bone-deep cold wrapped around them. The land was blanketed in thick layers of snow, untouched except for the paths carved through it. The sky stretched above in a pale, icy grey, blending with the endless white below.
Cristiano stepped out of the carriage and instinctively pulled his fur-lined cloak tighter around himself. The chill gnawed at his skin, biting through even the thickest layers of his royal attire. He was no stranger to winter, but this was something else. His breath curled in the freezing air like silver mist.
Ahead stood the grand Estate of Duke Hawthorne.
