The Delrose people wondered at the light that now shone down from the sky. It stirred something in them, like a long-forgotten memory of the summers they’d never known here in the winter region.

“Hurry!” Etra called back to Milo’s carriage, but she didn’t slow. Time was too precious.

As soon as she reached the mansion, she lept swiftly from her horse and thrust the bundle of herbs at Ves, who was waiting just at the door. The doctor immediately turned and hurried toward the stairs with Etra on her heels. Ves’ pace felt too slow to suit Etra, so she grabbed hold of the doctor and half carried her all the way up the stairs.

“Brew these and bring them quickly,” Ves cried as they reached the 7th floor. With this new flash of hope, the bustle on the floor regained its energy and the maids lept quickly into action. “And bring fresh sheets!”

Aden stood in the door of Ilyin’s room. The powerful scent of the herbs preceded them in the hallway, overshadowing the faint smell of blood that lingered in the air. He didn’t care for the scent of the herbs -there was something in them too delicate and bright for his taste – but he didn’t shy away from them.

He wouldn’t miss a single moment when Ilyin was in trouble. She had put her trust in him as Duke of Winter. He had promised her happiness, and now this horrible thing had befallen her.

“Your Majesty,” Etra said, kneeling as Ves hurried off to oversee the preparation of the herbs. “Punish me for my absence.”

“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “It was the best choice, the only way.”

If anyone else but Etra had gone, there would have been no hope. No one else could have managed this, even with his help.

He glanced out the window. A carriage was just arriving at the mansion – Milo, he had no doubt. He released the divine power as they arrived, and the morning sun that streamed through the windows instantly disappeared, snuffing out summer from the Delrose once again.

Etra bowed deeply. She had experienced the divine power more than anyone else in the mansion, even Aden. But to have sunlight shining in the winter region . . . that was unheard off. It had been magical, noble, and it was a pleasure usually only the warm region afforded.

She remembered what she had seen of the sun in the warm region, remembered the reflection of light on the snow as she had ridden back. What would it be like for sunlight to be so common here?

“Ma’am will be ok,” she muttered to herself. She has to be, she thought, she is such a beautiful person from a beautiful place.

Aden could see Milo and Bertha disembark from their carriage inside the gate, each carrying more bundles of herbs. Aden let out a sigh as the strain of using so much of the divine power now caught up with him. Even the pale light of the winter region now made his head hurt.

“You want to see summer? If you like, I’ll bring summer back.”

He’d made that oath to her. If this region were warm, if it knew summer like the warm region, the medicines Ilyin needed could have been right here. She wouldn’t have to suffer needlessly.

He would make this place more like the warm region. He would bring summer here. Aden was determined.

***

“This is place is colder than I could ever imagine,” Bertha said, shaking her head. She hadn’t felt the true cold of the winter region when she first came across due to the Duke of Winter’s miracle. But the second he dismissed the divine power, she suddenly felt as though she would freeze to death. If the maids that tended Ilyin hadn’t also quickly tended to her, she felt she might have done just that.

“You can relax,” she said to Aden now as she sat by Ilyin’s head. Ilyin’s face was pale and her lips blue. The weak sound of her shallow breathing echoed in the quiet room.  “I didn’t foresee Ilyin’s death.”

Even Bertha couldn’t be sure exactly what future dreams would show. There were so many things happening in this world at any given moment – how could one hope to see everything? But she knew they always showed what was necessary.

She didn’t see random people, or normal moments of happenstance in faraway places. The foresight always showed what was relevant to the people who were close to the dreamer.

And even then, it was only events of note, important things the dreamer needed to know. She may not see what someone close to her would have for dinner, but she would know what was worth knowing . . . and what needed to be prevented.

She hadn’t seen death in her dream. Ilyin would be fine. Bertha brushed her granddaughter’s hair gently.