Inside, it was hazy and mouldy and overcrowded, but at least it was warmer than outside.

Strange, that this atmosphere brought a sense of relief to Evelyn's travel-weary mind.

She kept behind the rest as Ed walked up to the counter and asked to speak with the owner. Always social and outgoing and simply good at communicating with people, he was the one who had been handling all of the transactions and interactions.

Father would let Ed do the talking and always watch on from the side, withdrawn and distant. This made Evelyn's blood boil, but of course she could say nothing, especially not to Father. He would not listen, nor would he care.

The conversation and din in the tavern continued despite their entrance, though it was clear the focus was on them. While Ed procured them two rooms and food for the night - somehow - Evelyn began to study the cramped tavern's occupants.

The faces were long and haggard, and rough hands, patched simple clothes and hunched shoulders told of a hard life. What struck her the most was the guardedness and hostility. Judging by the narrowed eyes and expressions of contempt, the Villiers were not welcome here. At all.

Not that we can do much about that, Evelyn thought snidely in her head.

Ed finished his conversation with the owner rather quickly, which her pinched feet and swaying body appreciated.

"Come," Ed gestured, and Evelyn stopped her thoughts and silently followed everyone up the rickety stairs. Once Father had gone to one room, the rest all gathered together in the other tiny, cramped, and dark room. There were two beds, one rickety table, and walls covered with peeling wallpaper. The pattern was also very hideous, Evelyn noticed.

Again Ed explained what the plan would be. Stay here for the night, contact what was implied to be a very notorious and untrustworthy man, find somewhere to live for now, and secure employment.

"Everyone must do their part," Ed stated wearily, with an edge of despair in his voice. "Our old life is gone, things are different, and we will all need to pitch in." But when his eyes met hers, she saw the unspoken statement – Everyone but Winter, because she is too 'precious' and delicate, and terrible at basic actions such as politeness and small talk.

The next morning found Evelyn feeling irritable and overwhelmed when she woke. The wearying travels of the last few days, and the fact that once more she was 'useless,' and excluded from the inner workings of the family, took its tool. Her body ached, her head was pounding, and her heart was jabbed with a dagger once more.

"Well, if I am to be useless and excluded, I may as well go around the town," she muttered bitterly to herself, slipping out as Ed gestured wildly at the rest of the family, spearheading the plans. As always, none of them noticed her absence.

Outside was chilly, and Evelyn shivered and pulled her thin coat tighter around herself. There was something about this weather that was more than cold – it was sharp, distant, unwelcome. Much like her, in fact. Maybe she was meant to be here, in this unknown strange town.

Once again the villagers snubbed her, their faces gaunt and hostile and sneering. On top of the weather that reminded her too much of herself, and the less than warm townsfolk, she had too many repressed feelings and worries. Being idle simply would not do. She needed to do something. What she wanted was a feel for the town, and the best place to do so was at the marketplace.

"This way, I will be able to get more acquainted with our new...home, and I can even go buy some victuals, to ready and eat in the new place we are to reside! Perhaps I can even...see if there are any employment positions open."

Finally having something to do, a plan of action, Evelyn felt more grounded and anchored. Best of all, she might even be able to do something useful. Full of renewed vigour, Evelyn tightened her coat around her once more, took in a deep breath, and set off for the centre of the town.

As this was a foreign place, and she could see no signs for directions, Evelyn was reduced to asking passing townsfolk for the right way to the markets. From several overly hostile and guarded encounters, she gathered enough to know which way to walk.

It seemed that Windport was a small enough town, much smaller and poorer than Whiling, with a small enough population. But the locations were quite spaced out from one another! The tavern and a few roadside shops far away from where most houses were located, which were in turn far away from the markets...

After almost half an hour of walk, the main street and businesses were finally in sight. Evelyn, being the daughter of a merchant, and knowing the gang back in Whiling, was fully aware of the importance of the marketplace.

It indicated the status and richness of the town, showcased the local-made wares and told of the people affiliated with the town's trade. And what an indicator the marketplace of tiny, hostile Windport was. Never before had Evelyn seen such a strange, pitiful sight!

The stalls themselves were small, drab and worn, and the few people milling about all looked like vagabond Count Draculas! The wares of course did not include silk, or fancy instruments, and the like, but from what Evelyn could see, most of 'essentials' were not there! Where did the people who resided here buy their pots and pans, or even basic materials for clothes? Moreover, how would Evelyn and her family acquire these items, if not here?

Evelyn shook her head, baffled. When she started forward despite the aura of danger echoing from the hostile townsfolk, every person present literally started glaring and hissing at her. Actual hissing!

The ware-sellers narrowed their hooded eyes at her, and she even saw some archaic protection signs being gestured. Notwithstanding this reception to her presence, Evelyn did not blink, did not falter. She gritted her teeth, held her head high, and let the Winter Princess sashay up in full force. Though she hated who she was, and her lack of 'beauty' and empathy and kindness, being a cold princess was useful in cases like these.

As she meandered around at a steady pace, looking at tiny stall after tiny stall, one specific idea kept on being whispered among the tall, pale, emaciated men.

"Outsider. Foreigner. Stranger. Merchant-folk." Evelyn swore she even heard "spy." Not for the first time, and definitely not the last, she wished her hearing was not as sharp and precise. There came a limit to every rude and cruel word one heard about oneself, she felt.

Looking around, she sighed silently - doing so out loud would be rude, and she did not want to pique the ire of the townsfolk even more. Truly, the wares and their sellers were pitiful, nothing like she'd seen before.

Everything was run down, and she had been right – not one pot, not one pan, not one yard of wool or thread at all. Instead, some little trinkets were being sold, along with the regular items – bread, weapons, protection amulets and herbs from the apothecary, and a lot of rotten fish. She also noticed that many of the stalls had a little corner for gaudy jewellery, the kind that normally would not be here in such a market.

There clearly was something wrong here. Once more, she had to remind herself, there was little Evelyn could do about the feeling of...wrongness in Windport. Despite every instinct of hers screaming to investigate, to find answers, she forced herself to continue her examination of the wares, of the stalls and the sellers, and the meagre amount of townsfolk milling about.

"Little lady! A little gift for you?" a hoarse, sing-song voice called out. Evelyn quickly turned around to the source of the query, a little shocked and apprehensive. So far, there had been malicious talk of her, and not any conversation aimed at her.

When she alighted from her turn, skirts settling around her legs, Evelyn schooled her face in order to mask her surprise.

It was an old beggar, sitting on the ground with all sorts of pretty trinkets laid out on a threadbare blanket beside him. He was ancient, with rags for clothes, smelling of smog and waste. He had no stall, and when he leered at her in an attempt at a smile, only three of his teeth were left.

Normally Evelyn never socialized, unless at parties where it was mandatory. Especially with strange old men who reeked and had the gall to leer at her. Nevertheless, she pushed her first, instinctive reaction aside.

This old man was the first person here to engage in a conversation with her, a friendly-like one at that, and she completely understood the rather failed attempt at a smile. Kindred spirits, it seemed.

"Perhaps," Evelyn stated, smiling back. "Depends on the cost." At what must have been a terrible grimace on her part, the old man leered wider and laughed. And this time, it was in a kind, merry sort of laughter. Not demeaning or sneering, implying that she was defective and worthless. No, nothing of that sort. What a strange but rather kind man!

The action touched her, and the Winter Princess draped around her softened a bit more.

"You be new in town, eh? Here, take this little key necklace as a...welcome gift to Windport." He winked.

"Oh no! I simply could not!" Evelyn exclaimed, shocked. Not wanting to offend the man with her outburst, she hurriedly continued. Misunderstandings were one of the banes of her existence.

"I cannot take this without payment! It seems you are desperately in need of some coin – and I do not mean to offend here – and I just cannot take this without giving something back! It would not be right, or fair!" It simply wouldn't! How could she take a present from someone who clearly had so little, even if it was just a trinket? Never mind that he was kind, and spoke to her in an engaging manner.

"And that, little girl," the old man replied, eyes crinkling and head shaking it what seemed to be wonderment, "is all the payment I need." He smiled even wider, and Evelyn frowned and huffed in confusion.

What was the man harping on about? She simply could not understand the nuances of thoughts, and hidden meanings and all that. Reading others had never been her strong suit. However, she had the understanding that despite his obvious kindness, he operated on faulty logic; she could not - would not - leave without giving some coin, especially if she accepted the necklace.

"Look," she firmly stated. "Here is a coin – just one coin – for the lovely necklace. Whatever you say, I insist on the payment. If you really do not want this coin, feel free to give it away. Makes no never mind to me. Alright?" she finished, pointedly waving a coin from her purse in front of her face.

"As you say, milady." Finally! Yet...

"Oh, I am no lady," Evelyn chuckled darkly as she tied the necklace around her neck.

"As you say," was the only reply.

The chain of the necklace was simple and a bit thick, and the key small and of polished brass. It was not beautiful by any means, especially compared to the jewels she had once owned. However, it had a kind of simple grace to it. In all of the lies that Evelyn knew were being told to her, and the travels and the worries and uncertainties, it was an anchor, a talisman.

For the first time in her life, it seemed, Evelyn felt a foreign jumble of emotions such as gratitude, and surprise, and disbelief. She was very deeply touched, for no stranger – or almost anyone – had ever done something like this for her before. Evelyn smiled again and softly whispered, "Thank you. So very much."

"Anytime," was the kindly said answer. "Call me... Iros the beggar."

"From the Odyssey? The one who had been tricked by Odysseus?"

"Exactly, Winter Princess."

"Why, that is a strange name – wait. How-how did you know? That-that is not my name! I swear, I beg, please do not call me that!"

"Shush," he said kindly. "First of all, I have my ways. Secondly, I promise to refrain from referring you as such. And, if you truly hate this name and what you believe it stands for, why not choose another name? Why not simply become a different person?"

"I have tried!" Evelyn cried out. "But it never...it never works. Whatever I try to say or do, I am always that cold, stubborn, inquisitive, socially inept Winter Princess. Nothing will ever change..."

"Cheer up, little girl. You never know, for you might just surprise yourself one day."

"I doubt it," Evelyn snorted, but once more felt oddly touched. "However...thank you for saying so. No one else ever does..."

"Their loss. And remember, lass. Anytime," Iros the beggar replied once more. "Oh, and do tell that eldest brother of yours that help is needed as a carpenter and a fixer of things..."

"Will do!" Evelyn replied, and walked away, amazed and flabbergasted by that entire encounter. Dare she say that she'd made a friend? No – an acquaintance. Anyhow, acquaintances were good, especially one who seemed to know everything. It was strange, of course, but the decent kind of creepiness that she had encountered before.

Noticing the position of the sun in the sky, Evelyn winced and told herself to hurry. It was getting late, and she wanted to be back as soon as possible. She quickly managed to procure some dry foods and purchase them, though she felt the prices were very high, and walked back to the tavern as fast as she could. How eager she was to share the food and the news of employment! It seemed that this day had turned productive and alright after all!

Back at the tavern, in the room that every Villiers sibling shared, Evelyn's good mood and hopes were dashed. No one noticed her at first, just continued to talk on and argue, and when Ed finally looked up and exclaimed a welcome, it was a strained and distracted one.

So distracted he was that Ed merely nodded when Evelyn divulged news she had thought would please him. It was another dagger to the heart, and Evelyn felt crushed and insignificant, the sensation made more poignant for she had never expected this behaviour from Ed.

Devon and James, true to form, hardly bothered to say hello, bickering in their corner, and all that Darcia did was bemoan their new home and surroundings.

Tears prickled at her eyes, a once-unfamiliar sensation that had unfortunately become commonplace. Heart aching, Evelyn was...unmoored, and quietly sequestered herself in a corner.

Throughout the travel to a rickety building not far from the tavern, and the unpacking of their belongings and trunks, and the long, sleepless night that followed in the dark, broken-down hovel that was their new home, Evelyn felt that poisoned dagger repeatedly jab her heart.

This was her fate – to be forever alone, ignored, excluded. Curled under the thin, raggedy blanket on the hard, filthy floor, a tear slid down her face, and her body shook with repressed emotions.

Then and there, as she felt herself become even colder and distant, Evelyn swore to herself that this would be the last tear she would ever cry. For, in the end, Winter did not cry, and did not hurt at the rejection of others.

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This chapter is for Ellie3330, who has voted on this story, and given so many good comments and encouragements. Thank you so much, and I hope you liked this newest chapter!

What do you think of the town of Windport? Any thoughts?

And remember, please comment and vote!