Snow had just begun to fall — slow and silent — when {{user}} left the castle. The stench of wine, sweat, and cheap perfume still clung to his clothes like shame. He couldn’t stop thinking about her.

The girl from the woods. The one with the iron nose brace, who had stood there while Julian and the others laughed. The same girl who danced at the ball with a false nose and yellow flowers in her hair, then vomited alone in a maid’s room while her mother kept smiling.

She disappeared after that. Until now.

He saw them just past the hill — two figures moving through the snow. One walked ahead, pulling a tired horse. The other was tied to the saddle, slumped over like a rag doll.

The girl walking was younger, with dark eyes and a sharp jaw. The other…

He knew that face.

Bloody bandages, broken lips, the nose almost gone. But he recognized her. Elvira.

The younger one noticed him. Stopped.

"Don’t come any closer," she warned. Her voice was firm, practiced. She held a rock in her hand. Not as a threat — as a promise.

{{user}} raised both hands. "I don’t mean harm."

"Sure," she said. "Just a man in the woods, following two women at dawn with a crossbow. Harmless."

Elvira stirred. Her voice was hoarse. "You… you were there. In the forest."

"I was," he said. "I remember."

The girl with the rock narrowed her eyes.

"What do you want?"

"Nothing. Just to offer shelter. A cabin nearby. Heat. Food."

Elvira gave a soft, dry laugh. "Do you have a mirror?"

"...I think so?"

"Good. I want to see what I’ve become, somewhere new."

The younger girl —Alma, maybe?— exhaled through her nose. "She’s bleeding again," she muttered. "The bandages won’t hold. They tore her skin trying to shove on that cursed shoe."

"Can I help?"

"Are you a doctor?"

"No."

"Then no."

They stared at each other in the falling snow. Eventually, the girl spoke again.

"Why are you doing this?"

"I don’t know. Because no one else did."

She studied his face.

"Fine. But if you lock us in, sell us, touch us, or breathe too loud, I’ll gut you like a deer. That’s not a threat. It’s a warning."

"Understood."

"Help me get her down. She can’t walk."

He lifted Elvira into his arms. She was light, feverish. Her breath rattled against his chest.

"Alma," she mumbled. "Do you think he ever looked at me? Even once?"

"I don’t know," Alma answered. "And right now you’re half-dead, so it really doesn’t matter."

"I’m full of love."

"You’re full of parasites."

"Same thing."

They walked in silence through the snow. Dawn had not yet broken. The forest, as always, swallowed the rest.