The morning air in the castle was just as cold as the night before. A thin fog clung beyond the glass windows, cloaking the outside world in a frozen, gray veil. Sylvia awoke with her body feeling lighter, though her mind was already burdened with heavy plans.
She rose from the large bed, her feet sinking into the thick wool rug. Her slow steps carried her toward the small washroom at the side of her chamber, but when she turned the faucet, only a faint rattling sound came. No water. The pipes were still blocked with ice.
Sylvia let out a short sigh. "Still frozen…" Then she turned away.
She stepped out onto the balcony. As soon as the wooden door opened, the morning chill struck her face. A thin frost coated the iron railing, glimmering pale under the first light of dawn. In the corner, a large metal drum still stood, its surface sealed with a thin layer of ice.
