Chapter 10
The Bitter Wood
“They say Dunwoode rarely gets snowfall, except deep in Midwinter. That it’s sometimes even warm,” Morwen was saying. They rode side by side through the narrow path that meandered The Bitter Wood. Or, Rhosyn thought, as she struggled not to slide off the horse Morwen had chosen for her, Morwen was riding, and she was spending the entirety of her focus on survival. But even hanging half off her horse, this was the happiest Rhosyn had been since she’d last spent time with the Frosts.
“Have you been there?” Rhosyn asked. She slid from one side to the other as her horse traveled with an uneven gait. Her knuckles reddened and then paled as she gripped the front of her saddle, holding her breath in hopes it might slow her inevitable fall. Her father had once said th
