Winter deepened over Snowland. The forests turned white. The rivers slowed beneath sheets of ice. Smoke rose from the chimneys of the stone city as the people settled into the long northern season.
For nearly a year, Edmond and his household lived in something close to peace. Not the fragile peace that trembled before war.
But the quiet rhythm of a household that believed it had finally found its balance.
Morning horns woke the castle before sunrise. Soldiers drilled in the training yard while frost still clung to their armor. Servants hurried through the halls carrying food, wine, and fresh firewood.
And in the center of that life stood the Woodland family. Newton and John spent most mornings in the training yard. Steel rang against steel.
Their blades clashed again and again beneath the pale winter sun. Snow crunched under their boots as they moved across the frozen ground.
John lunged. Newton turned his wrist and knocked the blade aside. Their swords struck again.
And again.
The soldiers watching along the walls murmured quietly.
Newton had grown faster. Stronger. His movements carried a sharp confidence that made even veteran warriors uneasy.
John wiped sweat from his brow. "You're getting arrogant."
Newton shrugged. "You're getting slow."
John attacked again. This time Newton stepped inside the swing and locked their blades together.
For a brief moment they stood face to face. Then Newton twisted his wrist. John's sword flew from his hand and landed in the snow.
Silence fell across the yard. John exhaled and bent down to retrieve his weapon.
"Remind me never to fight you in a real war.".Newton smirked faintly. "You would lose."
The watching soldiers laughed. Yet beneath the laughter lived something else.
Respect.
And something close to fear.
Inside the castle, Sonia had learned to move through her days with quiet control. At least, that was what everyone believed.
Her engagement to Ryli remained an unspoken shadow over the household.
The letters from Kings' City arrived every few months. Formal messages sealed with royal wax. Plans for future ceremonies. Arrangements for the wedding that would one day unite their houses.
Sonia read them calmly. Then folded them neatly. No one saw the way her fingers tightened afterward.
But in public, she smiled. She attended dinners. She joined the other young men and girls in the library. She listened politely when Bianca spoke about the glory of becoming queen.
Everyone believed she had accepted her fate. Everyone except perhaps Newton.
Sometimes he caught the way her eyes drifted toward the snowy hills beyond the castle walls. As if she were measuring how far she could run.
For Newton, life followed a different rhythm. His status as a bastard never disappeared..The word followed him everywhere. In the halls. In the whispers of visiting lords.
In the quiet looks servants exchanged when they thought he wasn't paying attention.
Yet something strange had begun happening. The same men who whispered about his birth also watched him in the training yard.
They watched the speed of his blade. The calm in his movements. They didn't forget his last victory. They didn't forget how he handled Sigmoid.
The bastard. The warrior. The boy who might one day become something dangerous.
The path of the Woodland family seemed clear to everyone.
Edmond rules the North. John would inherit the Ice Throne.
And Newton would become the sword that defended them both.
A warrior feared across the kingdoms. A loyal blade standing behind the true heir. That was the future people spoke about.
And for a long time, nothing challenged that image. Until one morning.
Newton walked down the familiar corridor toward Sonia's chamber. He had done this hundreds of times before.
The maids usually dressed her by now. Then he would roll her chair and take her to the library where she spent most mornings reading.
He knocked lightly. No one answered.
Newton pushed the door open. Then stopped. Sonia lay on the bed. Completely naked.
The pale morning light spilled through the tall window and across her body. For a heartbeat Newton didn't move. Then his eyes widened.
He turned sharply away and covered his face with his hand. "You should have been dressed by now," he said quickly.
His voice sounded tighter than he intended. Behind him the mattress shifted. Sonia's voice came calmly. "Yeah."
A pause.
"But I want you to see me naked."
Newton's heart slammed violently against his chest. The words echoed in the quiet room. "You shouldn't be saying that," he said immediately.
"You are my sister, and you are engaged to marry."
His voice hardened. "If you continue on this path, I might never come to roll you out again."
Silence filled the chamber.
Then Sonia's voice rose again. "But I love.."
Newton was already walking toward the door. He didn't look back. The door shut behind him.
Inside the room Sonia stared at the empty doorway.
"What!" She groaned loudly. "He could have at least heard me out."
Newton didn't stop walking until he reached the far end of the corridor. Then he leaned against the cold stone wall. His breathing was uneven.
Something felt wrong. Very wrong. He looked down.
And froze. His body had betrayed him. The hard pull beneath his robes told him everything he needed to know.
His fist slammed against the wall. "Damn!"
The word echoed through the corridor. He closed his eyes in frustration. "How can I be aroused by my sister's nakedness?"
The shame burned inside his chest.
From that day forward Newton never entered Sonia's room again.
Not once.
If she needed to leave the chamber, he sent the maids. If she needed to return, the servants handled it.
The corridor outside her door became a place he passed quickly without looking inside.
At first Sonia thought he was simply angry. But days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. And the distance between them widened.
Her desperation slowly grew.
Sometimes she watched the courtyard from her window and saw Newton training with the soldiers. Every movement of his blade drew cheers from the men.
And every cheer twisted something painful inside her chest. "My eighteenth birthday is coming in two years from now," she whispered one evening.
The words felt heavy. "With that, the king will come and get me."
She gripped the edge of the window frame. "And i will married off to Ryli."
Her jaw tightened. "I won't allow that." Her teeth clenched. "If only Newton would bed and defile me."
Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Then I will no longer be suitable to be queen."
But even as the thought formed, she knew something else.
She understood Newton. Pushing him harder would only drive him further away.
Eventually she apologized. Quietly, and sincerely. But Newton still refused to enter her room. He maintain his culture of always sending a maid to get her.