In The Beginning--Allfrost, in the Carriage
The windows within the carriage were just beginning to frost over, small streaky fingers of ice creeping across the strong weathered glass. Inside, the air was even chillier than the winds being whipped in by the storm front.
And one of its occupants, at least, seemed fairly content with this state of affairs.
Sitting languid against grey silk cushions, wrapped in white furs and expensive lace, was a young woman of breathtaking beauty--so grave and serene she might have been mistaken for a life-sized doll, if not for the faint puffs of breath that moved past her parted lips. Her silvery hair, immaculately swept up into a simple chignon, glinted under the faint interior lights. Every now and then her pale fingers grazed over the pages of a book held in her lap, tracing the edges of illustrations or illuminated words.
"It's a little warm in here," she murmured eventually, in a low, sweet voice. "But I suppose I'll survive until our next stop. Which, by the way, I had thought we would reach before dark."