He simply smiled and looked out the window with his chin propped up on his hand. She was a little taken aback. She asked another question, "Why aren't my maids or detail coming?"
He glanced over her words, and crossing his long legs, he answered, "Because where we are going… such extra individuals are not welcome."
'And where are we going?' She asked again, a spark of worry igniting within her.
The general seemed to sense her apprehension, and said, "Do not worry, your majesty. You have nothing to fear."
His words only eased her dread slightly. The day went by slowly; the rattle of the wheels and the pencil in her hand her only companions. The general was silent and she found it off-putting; he was usually cheery and smiling, and although every time he spoke he smiled, he was alert as though waiting for something. Therefore she was alert.
When she sensed that dinner was nearing—they had paused for a quick lunch—she glanced up from her lazy sketch and gasped upon seeing snow. The white precipitation coated the bows of the trees heavily along with providing the ground a thick, protective blanket. It looked cozy, but she knew it was anything but.
Snow was harsh, like Nothad.
She glanced across at the general and saw him looking out the same window, although he wore a grim expression. His eyes shifted to hers, "Is it your first time seeing snow, your majesty?" She shook her head. Viland had had its fair share of snowy winters, along with a few blizzards. The freezing, fierce storms had terrified her worse than lightning storms and thunder.
He hummed, "Then you know to be careful. I don't trust these skies." Her brow furrowed and she leaned further to catch a glimpse of the sky. It was a thick milky white that turned her skin cold. She rubbed her nose through the veil. "We will arrive at our destination by sunset, though. We'll be alright."
She nodded, that cold feeling still chilling her. He sounded as though he was assuring himself. She had never liked snow. It was cold and wet and clung to her skin and bones. Cold air was hard enough with it freezing her lungs and nose with every inhale and piercing her eyes with every look.
Her eyes eventually grew tired and heavy and she rested her head against the back of the carriage. She was grateful for the warm clothes that she had been dressed in that morning; her face was the only place that was cold on her body, everything else was protected. The veil did little to keep the warmth in.
A bump in the road caused her eyelids to flutter open and her to realize that she had been drifting to sleep. She swallowed and smoothed her cloak out. Looking up she gasped and all sleep disappeared from her mind when she saw that the general was gone. Her heart pounded in her ears and she looked out both windows at the darkening sky.
The carriage came to a sudden stop and her breathing quickened. He—where could he have possibly gone? He was supposed to protect her, wasn't he? The feeling of betrayed dent heavy in her heart as she scrambled to open the door to the carriage before any other person could.
Landing on the crunchy snow she gaped at the fact that the driver's seat was empty. Why was everything so confusing again? She spun around and her eyes narrowed at a gate hidden in the trees. There was no mist like there was by Harkburg, just snow and clouded night skies. She looked back at the carriage before she made up her mind and marched towards the gate.
It was light and opened easily without a sound. The path before it looked well-used, the snow being muddied with many footprints. A sharp contrast from the path outside that was covered with fresh snow.
A growl emanated from before her and she froze, her blood turning to ice. It stopped and she listened to her shallow breaths and watched them as they misted in the night air. Taking a step backwards her foot slipped and a sharp scream escaped her broken throat as the ground rushed towards her. She gasped roughly at the solid hit to her head and her darkening eyes looked up and saw a tree.
Yavanna only closed her eyes and the concussive pain welled up to the point she was shaking. Or maybe she was cold.
"Who is she?"
Her eyes parted as fast as she was able to peel her heavy lids open and she stared confusedly at the tall man before her. He stood next to a slightly shorter man, whose frame was stalkier than that of the man who'd spoken.
"I don't know, alpha." The shorter man replied and the tall, frightening man nodded. His dark gaze met hers and her heart died in her chest. Something absolutely terrifying rolled off of his lean body; something that made her skin chill colder than it ever had before and her soul recoil within her.
Who was this man? No. He certainly wasn't human. But he wasn't like Velio, the king or the general.
"Should we bring her to Chandra?" The shorter one asked and Yavanna noticed that the snow was seeping through the fur lining of her cloak.
"No. She smells of the king. I'll bring her to—" The tall one, alpha, stopped and tilted his head, his dark eyes glancing over her body. "Why do you wear a veil?" He asked, his tone harsh and she closed her eyes and clenched the cold snow beneath her hands.
The reason was humiliating… Why did he want to know? She narrowed her eyes and began biting away at the flesh inside her lips until it began to sting slightly. He took a step forwards, stooping to observe her closer. She heard him inhale deeply, as though sniffing her. She grimaced in disgust and fear and fought the temptation to crawl closer to the tree. Or back to the gate—
Her eyes darted to the wooden barrier but were brought back to the man nearing her with the crunching sound of snow, "We'll bring her to Luna."