Snowblind {complete}

Wet - Purge

Helping Frez with breakfast became part of Lanna's routine. The conversation between them felt forced and stilted, but she persevered and as the days went on her unease faded.

Two weeks passed in a blur of lessons, cooking and riding. The air thickened with moisture and stands of bamboo deepened to dark green, new shoots already waist high. Every morning greeted her with soft drizzle and high humidity.

Epen gave her a coat and a wide-brimmed hat, both of rice straw and dyed red. The dye didn't run, even when the haze of drops soaked the fibres.

Lanna felt uncomfortable and hot in the bulky coat, though it was better being dry. The first morning she wore both coat and hat, Frez smirked into his bubbling pot of porridge.

'You look no better in your coat,' she muttered, chopping fruit on a wooden board. Lanna deftly cut it into fine slices, practising her knife skills. Her discomfort-spurred dedication to her new way of life was paying off. She hadn't visited the bushes in over a week. While Chowa's teaching could be hazardous, there was no denying it inspired Lanna to learn quickly.

As she worked, she hummed a lullaby and was surprised when Frez joined. They sang together softly until Lanna's voice faltered. A stab of unexpected loss in her chest, then a dull throb. She wanted her mother. Weatherworn hands on her face, fingers combing her hair. Warm arms to huddle within as the wind howled outside. A soft voice in her ears.

'Still hurting?' Frez asked in their tongue. She nodded and sniffed away the sting behind her eyes. 'You're wise not to show your distress to others,' Frez said gruffly. 'Your attachment would not be understood.'

Lanna nodded again.

'You still miss your man?' Frez asked, keeping to Southern to spare her blushes before the guards.

'He let me go,' she spat, fresh anger hissing up to the surface.

'As would any Imperial man,' Frez said. 'The path you follow is of greater importance.'

Lanna deliberately schooled her features while she attempted to rein in her temper. Her knife jammed into the board as she chopped. Teeth gritted, she pulled the blade free. Good Imperial – she must be a good Imperial. There was too much at stake for her to throw a tantrum.

Frez frowned. 'You must have been quite fond of him to resent him so much.'

'I was a fool.'

Frez's fingers twitched. Her brother or father would stroke the back of her head at moments like this. It was a gesture that could be felt through thick gloves. In a whiteout, when the wind screamed, touch was the only form of communication. Contact in the south was part of life. The lack of it made Lanna feel even more alone.

'If you were an adult Clanswoman would you have chosen him?' Frez asked, still unusually personal.

'At first, no,' she muttered. 'But he was persistent. He won my affection.'

'How so?'

She took a deep, shuddering breath. 'The day I took vows to follow the way of the Emperor I had only been in the Empire three months. I didn't realise that as soon as I took those vows, I would be of marriageable age.'

Frez snorted a laugh. 'They breed like snowhares here,' his voice rumbled. 'You should be done with first child already and working on the second.'

Lanna realised his sudden burst of talk was for her benefit. It was all the support he could offer.

'As a Southerner, strong of body and wide of hip, you would have been quite a catch.' He chuckled and stirred in the fruit she'd cut. She nodded, knowing he spoke true, but that didn't stop the colour deepening over her cheeks.