Eris was awake long before the first silver chime cut through the dark.
She stood by the window of the Blue Wing, already draped in a simple robe of white silk that offered no protection against the draft. She did not need the sun to tell her it was time. She felt the day approaching like a predator, silent, inevitable, and hungry for her composure.
"The hour is met, Your Highness," a voice murmured from the shadows.
The Ice-Waking Ritual began at exactly 4:45 AM. It was not the indulgence of a bath, nor the comfort of steam. It was an interrogation of the spirit.
Eris was led to a chamber of bare, black stone where a single slab of enchanted ice sat in the center of the floor. Under the watchful, unblinking eyes of four elder noblewomen, the Keepers of the Hearth, Eris stepped out of her slippers.
She placed her bare feet onto the frozen stone.
