Atheline stood upon one of the palace terraces shortly after sunrise, watching the city stretch awake beneath him. Merchants were already opening their shops. Children carried small baskets toward the market alongside their parents.
Blacksmiths had reopened the large doors of their forges, the familiar rhythm of hammer striking steel echoing faintly across the morning air.
Even the palace itself seemed livelier. Servants moved with lighter expressions than they had during the depths of winter, no longer burdened by hauling endless supplies of firewood through the halls.
A soft weight settled against his leg, he looked down. The white fox had wandered over sometime during his thoughts and now leaned comfortably against his boot.
Its appearance had changed noticeably over the past week. Large clumps of fluffy white fur were beginning to fall naturally from its body as its thick winter coat slowly gave way to a lighter one.
He crouched beside it.
