The gates of your family’s holding did not open with welcome, but they opened.
The cold rushed in first, sharp enough to sting followed by the sight of four riders cutting through the white. Men rode behind him, broad-shouldered and grim.
Behind you, a whisper barely held back. When you glanced over your shoulder, your sisters had already crept closer, two smaller ones peeking wide-eyed from the dim warmth of the house, and the third just behind them, older but not enough to hide her concern.
The younger ones lingered a heartbeat too long before you firmly pushed the door just enough to block their view, shutting them out of what was about to unfold. The faint sound of their footsteps retreating echoed behind the wood.
When you turned back, he were already dismounted.
Snow crunched beneath his boots as he stepped forward. The others remained mounted just watching. When his gaze found you, there was a pause, as if he had expected someone older to greet him.
“Tell your father I am here,” he said, each word placed with intent. “And tell him… my clan does not forget his debts. Nor does it forgive them.”
Then, he took a slow step closer. “And next time,” he added, almost casually, though the edge beneath it was unmistakable an insult, “he should think twice before sending a girl to answer for him.”
The sound of the slap cut through the stillness, sharp and immediate. And for a second, even the snow seemed to falter.
His head turned slightly with the force of it, just enough to absorb the impact. A flush spread across his cheek, vivid against the cold, the mark of your hand undeniable. The men behind him reacted first, one stepping forward instinctively, but he stopped them with the smallest movement of his hand. He didn’t even look back.
Slowly, he brought his fingers to his jaw, pressing against the sting, considering it. When a faint smirk touched the corner of his mouth.
“Careful,” he added, not quite a threat, not quite a warning but something in between. “Defiance like that, tends to come with a price.”