The morning air in the castle was biting enough to strip the skin from bone.
A cluster of chambermaids moved swiftly around Zaliyah, their hands trembling slightly as they bundled him up for the treacherous winter journey back to the capital. They layered wools and thick undergarments against his frame before fastening a oversized white fur coat over his silk robes. To top it all off, they pulled a thick, round white fur hat down snugly over his dark hair and slipped gloves onto his hands.
Zaliyah glanced down at his bulky, rounded reflection in the mirror. He let out a faint, dry breath that plumed into frost.
I look fat like Sylaris, he thought, a fleeting smile touching his lips at the memory of his daughter bundled up in her own absurd clothes.
The doors creaked open, and Xulthas stepped inside. The maids instantly dropped into deep, synchronized bows and scrambled backward out of the room, leaving the two of them alone in the chamber.
