Finding Heathcliff

When Astrid opened her eyes at dawn, she was glad to see that Arabella heeded her plea and did not appear at her bedside. It would be too difficult to part from her now when she needed to be, or at least appear to be strong, while feeling more tired and confused than the previous evening.

She had never dreamed so much in one night, Astrid mused, trying to recall what she had dreamed about, coming up with broken shards of different dreams, which, put back together, didn't make any sense. After revelling in the warmth and comfort of her bed for a few more moments, wondering when she will get to sleep in a proper bed again, Astrid pulled herself up and smiled when her eyes fell on her bedside table-- Arabella was nowhere in sight, but she had brought her breakfast while she slept.

Eating quickly, only to please Arabella, Astrid scowled at the wan grey light fighting its way through the semi-darkness of her chamber. It was late; she didn't want Orion and the guards to have to wait for her. The moment she finished her rushed meal, Astrid ran into the bathroom to a small table placed close to the window, next to her large, marble bath. It held an oval, silver framed mirror propped against the stone wall, an earthenware basin, and an ewer filled with water. She poured some water into the basin and splashed her face, feeling properly awake only once the cold liquid dripped under the frilled collar of her night dress, making her shiver.

Finally, she returned to her bed chamber, approaching the pile of clothes she had laid out last night. Astrid dressed fast and lightly, donning the guards' uniform over a thin cotton shirt. Since the last permanent ice of the Earth's poles and the highest mountain peaks had melted, Eurovea's climate was mild even in the middle of the winter. She wouldn't suffer from cold on this journey.

Astrid's mind strolled to what her tutors had told her about the unpleasantness of winters of the centuries past, about the damage snow and ice used to cause, and the huge number of lives frost would claim each year. Another memory followed, making her recall what she had read about winters in her novels, about the beauty and romanticness of ice-covered lakes and rivers, snow-buried fields, a pair of warm, large hands always eager to warm up the smaller, freezing ones, making a walk in the thickest snowfall the most pleasant event... Her novels usually claimed something completely different from the books she had had to study.

Sighing, Astrid shook her head, impatient with herself. Nothing of this was important now; she should concentrate on the present. She needed to decide how she would approach the... angels, what sort of treaty she would propose, and how to improve the current situation... Astrid had no idea what she could offer to them, but she would think about something, hopefully, along the way. She needed to find them first, and she didn't know how to do that.

Astrid had just pushed the last stray curl under the wide-brimmed, black hat of the guards when someone knocked on the door.

Avoiding looking in the mirror-- she felt like a heroine from her books, one of those novels where women disguised as men sometimes, for fun or adventure, or those, written in the more recent past where they wore men's clothes normally, and she didn't want the mirror to spoil that illusion by showing her that she really looked ridiculous-- she faced the door.

"Come in," she called, expecting Orion.

However, it wasn't her fiancé. A guard, not much older than herself, stood on the threshold when the door opened.

Astrid saw surprise flicker in the man's eyes as he took her in, and she smiled at him, shrugging in lieu of an explanation.

He returned her smile as he spoke, "I'm here to carry the bags for you, my lady. Everything is ready, Master Orion is waiting for you in the courtyard."

She gestured towards her saddlebags, then followed the youth who carried them without difficulty out of her chamber.

"Are you coming with us? What is your name?" she enquired as they walked down a torch-lit, deserted corridor. It was too early for her uncle's court to begin to stir.