**Chapter 2A: Shadows on the Road**
The Frost estate was vast enough to swallow a person whole. Rin spent the three days before the Academy term began wandering its corridors and courtyards alone, mapping the place the way a scout maps unfamiliar territory. She learned the servants’ passages that wound behind the walls like veins, the hidden alcoves where frost-wyrm statues loomed in silent vigil, and the library that smelled of old parchment and spell-ink. She met the staff—maids who curtsied too low, cooks who offered her extra portions with hesitant smiles, and a grizzled groundskeeper who simply nodded when she passed, as though he recognized something feral in her.
She encountered the family in fragments. Alfons, training in the sparring yard with a longsword, offered her a spare blade and a curt invitation to spar. She declined. Later, when he saw her watching the horses in the stable, he remarked dryly, “You ride well enough to keep up with us, if you ever change your mind.” She had said nothing then, and he had left it at that. Felix appeared once in the halls, his expression guarded, and asked if she needed anything. She said no. Lily and Lady Lilian she never saw at all; they remained sequestered in the east wing, as though the house itself were divided by an invisible wall.
Albert, however, was impossible to avoid.
He appeared at odd moments—leaning against a pillar in the atrium while she examined a tapestry, trailing a few paces behind her in the gardens, or lounging on a bench near the stables when she went to check on the horses. His questions were light, almost playful.
“You’ve got a scar on your left forearm,” he remarked one afternoon. “Sword? Arrow? Beast?”
Rin turned, eyes narrowing. “None of your concern.”
He grinned. “Just trying to get to know my sister.”
“I’m not interested in being known.”
He laughed softly and let her walk away—though she always felt his gaze on her back until she turned a corner.
She hated being followed. Even when he claimed it was harmless curiosity, it set her teeth on edge. She shooed him away with sharp words or pointed silence, and to his credit, he never pushed too hard. She suspected he was simply bored. A second son of a noble house had few real duties; boredom was the true enemy of the idle rich.
On the morning of departure, the courtyard was cloaked in early mist. A large, enclosed carriage waited at the foot of the steps, its dark wood polished to a gleam, the Frost crest emblazoned in silver on each door. Four matched black horses stood harnessed, their breath steaming in the chill air. Two grooms held the heads, and a driver in indigo livery waited on the box.
Felix stood at the top of the steps, cloak thrown back, silver chain gleaming. Lilian clung to Lily as though the girl were made of glass. Alfons lingered nearby, arms crossed, watching everything with quiet intensity.
Albert adjusted the cuff of his traveling coat and glanced at Rin. “Carriage is warmer than horseback. And Father insisted we travel together. Safety and appearances, you know.”
Rin said nothing. She had planned to ride her own mount, but the household had been prepared differently. She climbed into the carriage without protest, settling onto the cushioned bench opposite the door.
Lily entered next, helped by a groom, her movements careful. She sat beside Rin, leaving the seat across from them for Albert. Albert followed last, closing the door behind him. The carriage swayed slightly as he settled in, then lurched forward as the driver flicked the reins.
“Safe travels,” Felix called from the steps. “May the gods watch over you.”
Lilian’s voice came softer, directed at Lily. “Remember what I told you. If anything feels wrong, send word at once. I’ll come for you myself.”
Lily nodded, eyes shining. “I will, Mother.”
The carriage rolled through the gates, the mist parting around its wheels.