The heavy iron gates slammed shut behind them with a sound like a thunderclap.
The Royal Carriage rolled into the courtyard of Winter-Hold. It was less of a courtyard and more of a military staging ground. The stone was swept clean of snow, revealing grey slate stained with soot and oil.
Hundreds of Wolf-Kin soldiers stood in formation. They wore heavy steel armor lined with white fur, their faces grim and scarred. They didn't look like the festive guards in the Capital. They looked like men who had been fighting a losing war for months.
"Welcome home," Rurik muttered darkly as the carriage stopped.
He opened the door. The cold air rushed in, smelling of forge smoke and pine.
Caspian stepped out first, his face impassive. He turned and helped Primrose down. Then, he lifted a sleepy Orion into his arms. Vali hopped out last, shaking the snow from his hair and looking around with wide, curious eyes.
"Is this where you grew up, Dad?" Vali whispered. "It's... big. And pointy."
