The air was thick between the two, and cold as well. After leaving the castle, Ezra had made it his responsibility to keep himself comfortable. Unfortunately, such temperatures did not work for Cyra, and she often threw open the carriage door to take a breath, as it usually was much warmer outside than in the carriage. Regretting her decision to not change into more layers before she left for Aenon, she looked around for any type of cloth to throw over herself. But unfortunately, she found none.

"Does it have to be this cold?" Cyra asked, glaring at her soon-to-be husband. He had been reading a book, and didn't take his eyes off the book when he responded to her.

"Yes it does," he replied instantly. "We're in the mountains, princess. Get used to it."

Cyra curled up, pulling her knees up to her chin in an attempt to preserve anything left of her body heat. She pulled her dress over her feet to cover any air getting on her skin. Her shoes did nothing to help.

"D-do you not have anything in this carriage?" She asked, shaking.

"Usually, we don't take people who require heat to survive in this sort of luxury. So, no."

Ezra still didn't look up from his book. Whatever it was, it clearly interested him more than Cyra did, which, if it wasn't a slap to her face on its own, stopped him from even acknowledging her in the carriage. So the next couple times she tried to call him, he blatantly ignored her.

"Ezra, you won't have an heir if I die." Cyra said in an attempt to get his attention, and some warmth from him.

"Don't be dramatic. Most that will happen is losing consciousness, but you'll live. Besides, I plan on keeping you alive."

Cyra noticed how he said alive, not comfortable. He might say that she was his bride, but the most she was to him was a prisoner. A fancified version of a prisoner.

"No, I won't. Please do something."

He groaned, finally looking away from his book, and tapped the side door with his knuckles loudly. The carriage stopped moving, and the knights opened the door, peering inside to find the source of the issue. They spotted Cyra in a fetal position on her seat, and the one who'd seen it yelled out something in another language, getting replies from the front of the group. He got back on his horse and rode back to his position.

"W-what did they say?" She asked again, unable to control herself from shivering.

"They're going to open one of our crates. He thinks we might have blankets."

"Why do you even have them if you don't need it?"

"To put out fires," he said, his tone becoming even more standoffish.

The soldier returned within a few moments with a large bundle of cloth in his arms. He threw it inside before giving a quick bow, closing the door. Cyra scrambled out of her seat to grab as many of the blankets as she could and buried herself deep inside them. Disapproval radiated from Ezra, but Cyra didn't really care. The relief was immediate as her entire body melted underneath the fabrics. Warmth returned to her body, and the blood rushed to her limbs again. Her head was pounding- a side effect of the cold- but she chose to ignore it, and closed her eyes, focusing on breathing.

Cyra eventually fell asleep, and Ezra frowned at the bundle of blankets his future wife had become. Being bundled up like that definitely did not work for him, and he knew what the rest of the court would say. He turned to look out the window, a smile growing when he saw the mountain slope higher. They were very close to having to get off the carriage. Forests of evergreen trees flooded the sides of the roads, and Ezra rejoiced at the fresh, crisp smell of the cold forest.

The carriage eventually jerked to a stop, waking Cyra up. She looked around confused as Ezra got out of the carriage, shutting the door behind him. The cold made breathing for Cyra much harder, leaving her feel like knives were being pushed down her throat. Ezra came back, wearing a mask over his mouth, so that the snow wouldn't bother him.

"We have to go by horseback. The trail will break the wheels," he informed nonchalantly.

"Can I keep my blankets?" Cyra asked, her eyes still hooded with sleep, as it was the only thing that kept the pain away. Ezra pressed his lips together, closed his eyes, and sighed through his nose, clearly disappointed.

"Fine. Just one."

The sleepy princess stumbled out of the carriage with one of her thickest blankets, and walked up to the first horse she saw.

"Nope, not this one." Ezra said, grabbing Cyra's elbow, and leading her to his horse. Cyra quickly memorized the color pattern of the horse, a pretty white horse with a blond mane and tail. Getting on the horse was a hassle for Cyra, further infuriating Ezra.

This could be so much easier if she left the blanket. He thought.

In the end, he managed to get her and himself on the horse, and started for the trail leading up to Aenon.

He used a rope to tie the two of them together, partially to keep her from falling, but mostly to keep her from trying to run off into the icy forests. She instantly fell asleep again, draping the blanket over her shoulders. As she warmed up, Ezra could feel the heat getting increasingly uncomfortable, but he couldn't do anything about it. If he pushed her away, she might end up falling off the horse.

The horse rocked back and forth on the rocky trail, moving Cyra side-to-side every few seconds, keeping Ezra attentive to make sure she wouldn't fall off. The knights surrounded Ezra and Cyra, blocking most of his view of the forest which made him mad, but he knew that they had to do so, for his own protection.

Snow started falling, accenting Cyra's dark brown hair with little flecks of white, while Ezra struggled to keep her hair from flying everywhere in the wind. Her hair was ridiculously long, and he started wishing really soon that she had tied it up before she ran to the carriage, though a corner of his mind did tell him that he didn't really give her very much time to pack up or get dressed.

The chill built up, and Ezra started relaxing more and more. The crisp forest scent made him smile. He tilted his head up and took a deep breath, sighing as he released it.

Home.

As soon the journey had begun, it had ended. Ezra quickly cut the line, and pulled the horse to a stop a couple feet away from where the village started. He tapped Cyra on the shoulder, nudging her awake. She sluggishly got up and straightened herself.

"Ditch the blanket," he said, looking around to see if any of his people were nearby. If they were to see their future queen like this, it would ruin both of their reputations in a single moment.

"But I'm cold. It never gets this cold in Electra..." she mumbled, trying to go back to sleep. The cold had a habit of knocking her out.

"Throw it away or I will." He said threateningly.

She frowned, but took it off herself reluctantly, and as slowly as possible, tossed it into a bush nearby. She settled back on the horse, trying not to fall asleep for a third time, though the cold made that seem next to impossible. A large figure appeared in the distance, looming over the visible villages and cities. They were still high up on the mountain, so everything was visible.

Her sleep instantly disappeared when the entirety of the Arnon kingdom came into view. It was bigger than Electra would have ever been. The castle itself looked menacing, covered in abnormally large icicles that were visible from afar. The villagers roamed the streets, selling items to passersby. The sun was set behind the white, icy mountains, gifting the people with a beautiful sunset in waves of rainbow colors; all but green, of course. That came a little later, as the polar lights dominated the sky.

Ezra leaned next to her ear. She felt him smirking as dread filled her stomach faster than a bad stomach ache.

"Welcome to where you'll spend the rest of your life." 

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-Hershey