The cold settled into the bones of the garden like a patient visitor who had no intention of leaving. I woke each morning to frost on the window and the sound of the river moving slower beneath its skin of ice. The world had contracted to the space between the two houses, the path that connected them, and the distant glow of fires from across the frozen water.
Cassian was already up when I opened my eyes. I heard him moving in the main room, the soft clink of metal against stone as he worked on something by the fire. I pulled on my warmest clothes and went to join him.
"You are repairing the kettle again," I said.
"It leaks. The handle is loose too."
"Will it hold?"
He looked at me, a small smile on his face. "It will hold. I have been fixing this kettle for three winters. It will pro
