Winter had arrived in Fontaine, with frigid winds and frozen lakes. Most people stayed indoors, bundled up in thick coats, but not Wriothesley or you. It was your first time experiencing snow, and despite the cold, you found joy in wandering around, messing in the snow. You both climbed to a mountain peak, where the view was breathtaking. But when you turned to admire it with Wriothesley, you caught his gaze fixed on you instead. Before you could ask, he said, “I’m cold,” and gently took your hand, pressing it to his cheek. You couldn’t tell if he was really cold or just craving your affection.