A single patch of green had appeared in the middle of the snowfields. Then another. And another. Flowers bloomed where nothing should have survived.

The king followed the trail. Hours later, he found her.

She stood in a clearing of wildflowers, sunlight woven through her hair. Birds perched on her shoulders without fear. Vines curled around her ankles like affectionate pets.

The Nature Goddess.

She was kneeling beside a frozen stream, her fingers skimming the ice. Where she touched, the water beneath began to flow.

The king's presence announced itself before he spoke. Frost raced across the ground. The flowers nearest him crystallized into silver-blue glass. The birds scattered.

She turned.

For a moment, neither spoke. Winter and Spring. Snow and Bloom. Deathly cold and vibrant life. Opposites staring across a field of flowers.