They continued to trudge through the snow-covered landscape, their feet sinking into the frozen ground with every step. The wind, sharp as a blade, cut through their cloaks, biting at their skin. Hours passed, the cold relentless, but finally, the barren white fields began to give way to a more hospitable path. Trees lined the road, their branches heavy with snow, but the ground here was clearer, suggesting that carriages might have passed through recently. The sight brought a glimmer of hope.
Lydia, always practical, glanced at Helena with a determined nod. "This looks like a safer path. Perhaps a carriage will pass and offer us a lift."
