Delicate toes are attached to delicate feet, summarily attached to a small, delicate person, who under normal circumstances would not venture outside into the chill of early January without at least four layers of clothing. A light breeze blows, catches the hem of the nightgown and she should shiver, she should, but all she feels is

Heat.

It is smothering in its fury, oppressive and thick with the lamps and stagnant air, choking her nose and lungs. Across the hall she can see Anck su-Namun, poised and polite not three seats away from Seti, head bowed. She is ignoring the meal, looking to her hands as though it absolved her of being Pharoah's favoured concubine.

The heat curls itself in the pit of her stomach and she approaches

Taking a step down and wobbling uncertainly for a moment, Evelyn lifts her chin and looks ahead. Another step. Another. Two more and frost gives way to snow, several inches thick under her and soft.