The landscape rolling by in the window of the carriage was calm and pristine, a sheet of perpetual snow covering it as it almost always did in rolling hills and stretching plains of cold, soft snowfall.  Occasionally a gentle wind would blow by, causing the diamond dust to swirl in drifts and eddies, dancing through the late autumn air under the mostly-clouded sky, the sun sometime peeking out to shine down upon the kingdom that was ruled by the Snow Fairies.  It was through that landscape that a carriage steadily sledded through, the varies natures of the occupants reacting in equally varied ways to the beauty of the nature surrounding them.  The Lords Marshal and Chamberlain gazed out in appreciation and content respectively, while the third occupant, one young soldier by the name of Alreis Enstringe, stared out with an expression of stony implacability.  The Lord Marshal, a soldier before all else, was appreciative and grateful that he did not have to march his armies through the deep drifts of this land that hid all manner of dangers for the careless, and the Lord Chamberlain content that soon the mess of paying all the kingdom's soldiery would be done and over with.  Alreis, however—sometimes regarded as the Lord Marshal's right-hand man and undoubtedly the favored of the King—knew more than both of them could ever hope to imagine what ice and snow were truly capable of.  He, unlike them, had been raised in the harsh and unforgiving tundras farther still to the north, a land where all but the strongest met horrible ends.  A place that would be shrouded in night for weeks at a time and then where the sun would never set for just as long, a place where time itself could seem frozen by the biting winds and burning chill.  Alreis' expression was one of expressionless immutability, as if his face had simply frozen that way at birth; a face fitting a glacier.  It did not properly convey the mounting senses of dread and anxiety that he fought to keep controlled, that gnawing uncertainty that swirled within him.<br/><br/>The Lord Chamberlain cleared his throat sharply, an intent stare focused on Alreis.  "Unless our maps are mistaken, we have just entered the territory formally claimed by the Snow Fairy capital, ser Enstringe.  No doubt the Princess awaits our arrival with wings eagerly aflutter."<br/><br/>Yes, that was it; the source of the unease currently besieging the tall, slender soldier.  He was, supposedly, to be married to the heiress of this land as part of a peace negotiation.  The King, having no proper heir, had decided to name the man who had personally saved his life as his successor, conferring onto Alreis all the rights and duties of a prince just a scant few months ago.  Shortly after, the war had been called to truce while terms of peace were discussed; in exchange for a cessation of hostilities and sizable reparations, the Snow Fairies would allow lower tariffs on goods from the Kingdom of Rashaille, its larger and only land neighbor, as well as a political marriage of their young princess to the heir to the Rashaillion crown.  In effect, signing away some of the sovereignty of the next generation to their larger neighbor to avoid outright conquest.  This would, undoubtedly, not be the last of war in the land, and perhaps only the beginning of civic upheaval, but that wasn't what concerned Alreis; he was perfectly at home in war and could normally handle upheaval by packing up and leaving.  What had him so out of sorts was the prospect of marriage; marriage tended to tie a man down, and that wasn't something he could afford just yet.  He had a task yet to complete, prey that yet needed to be hunted down and slain, and hunting would be the last thing he could do as a monarch.<br/><br/>He did not get long to indulge in his discomfort, though.  Soon enough they found themselves within the city proper, and after that they found themselves approaching the palace on foot.  Alreis, in his drab attire and his weapon wrapped in a plain burlap cloth tied with leather straps, would have been sneered at by the guards were it not for the fact that he easily dwarfed every person in the room.  His height made him unmistakably the same beanpole of a man who had been so dangerous and terrible a foe on the battlefield not long ago.  No, they did not sneer at him...  They all but cowered.  Even the Lords Marshal and Chamberlain were at best a head shorter than him, the unwilling prince's head close to brushing the ceiling and requiring him to stoop through some of the doors.  Between that, the cold harshness of his eyes and his ramrod-straight posture, he certainly cut an imposing figure.<br/><br/>They were taken quickly to a sitting room, the Lords Marshal and Chamberlain each taking seats around the low table and sinking comfortably into the cushions.  Alreis remained on his feet, however, his covered spear nestled in the crook of one long, lanky arm as he leaned against the wall and gazed out of the singular window to the outside world, wordlessly watching the gardens below whilst they awaited the arrival of their gracious hosts to finish with the formalities of the treaty and discuss the finer details of the wedding.