14 November, 1358. Westerhaven Palace, Islia
William adjusted the strap to one of the whalebone ice skates he was wearing and straightened up carefully. It seemed like almost the entire court was out of the castle, in the marshes and shallow pools that surrounded the palace. During the summer, the intense heat meant the marshes were turned into a steamy, insect ridden hell. No one in their right mind would spend the hotter part of the year near Westerhaven.
But in the deepest winter, that part of the country was a completely different experience. The ground would freeze, turning the pools of water into small, shining ice lakes. The whole landscape surrounding the palace was an ethereal expanse of ice, broken up by small tracts of bare land.
