Eve stepped down from the carriage, raising her head. Under the dim sky, snowflakes drifted everywhere. The snow wasn't heavy, but it was enough to bring extreme cold to Old Dunling, plunging this restless city into iron-gray desolation.
Among the monotone colors, bundles of firelight rose, like flickering flowers. These were bonfires hastily built by people using oil drums and some discarded wood. Everyone gathered around for warmth and, after a short break, swung their shovels again, working to clear the snow before it could bury the roads.
The clanging of iron continued, playing a metallic symphony on the cold, lonely streets.
Eve exhaled a breath of white air. The cold wind made her wrap her coat tighter. In her memory, it was the first time seeing Old Dunling like this. Ahead, the Stuart family's estate was right in front of her. Unlike its previous solitude, this time it seemed much livelier.
