The day, overcast and dreary, seemed to foreshadow the hearts of everybody. Winter was coming and it was time Wenderrton Manor underwent some changes before it settled into the usual lazy shuffelings of the dark days and cold nights. Mira slouched into the kitchen and took her usual place without her abnormal cheeriness. It took one look between cook and Mrs. Kenner to establish what was the matter. Ithilwen only stumbled in hours later, affected by the day, perhaps more than the others. She had sensed more than felt that something was not right in the house. The feeling of desolation enveloped her as mist enveloped the house. At the sight of her friend, glumly staring at the far wall of the kitchen, she knew the worst was still to come.
Early the next morning, with only the eyes the same shade of the moon staring out of a frozen window, a carriage left the Wenderrton Manor bearing it’s exotic rose, Mira, to her Aunt.
Claire retreated to her room. The Begenmores visited more often. Fredrick was only seen when the Begenmores arrived. Mary thrived. The rumour amongst the servants was that the reason why she was so bitter in summer and lively in winter was because her heart was made of ice and was in actual fact the ice queen who wished to enslave mankind. It was nonsense of course, but it was one of the only things that brought back the summer friendliness to the kitchen. Henry was seen bringing ladies to the house late at night. And so the entire house which Ithilwen, in spite of the odds had grown to love had changed. She hardly saw her dear friend who had found their meetings inconvenient and avoided her at all costs. She had never in her life been so utterly lonely.
   The one benefit of her loneliness was that she now spent the evenings telling Claire stories because no one could think of anything else she had to do. She filled the child room with stories of her past, with legends and dragons. Knights marched up and down as dwarves mined under the bed. Princesses danced amongst the dolls and on the seat of honour, Claire’s bed, sat the Merriments with the Alph’s causing disaster. It was in the midst of such a disaster tea party that Fredrick walked past the bedroom hearing giggles and disappointed ‘tst’s’. He cracked the door open to find Ithilwen seated, rather uncomfortably, with Claire by the small wooden tea table she had gotten for her birthday.
“Oh no, Daniel, I told you to take the cake rather than the ice cream. Tst, tst, tst, you just never listen do you?” Ithilwen said to an empty chair next to her.
Claire giggled excitedly.
“What did he do?” she whispered anxiously.
“Well, he is allergic to ice cream and now he’s changed from purple to blue but he’s meeting the king next week because he is purple and now what shall we do,” Ithilwen explained sadly.
Fredrick closed the door silently smiling to himself, he would leave the curious problem of Daniel to the two ladies. The house seemed somewhat warmer as he marched down the hall. The Begenmores were due once more this evening. Unconsciously Fredrick braced himself for the arrangements of picnics and balls.

She walked silently back to her room which seemed colder than it was outside. Her smile was rarely seen by the walls anymore. Only little Claire was graced by her laugh and smile and even then she found that her heart was missing. She suddenly heard the soft sophisticated vowels of the family and the Begenmores, she had not only gotten lost in her thoughts but in the hallways as well.
“I do realize that it is a bit of an awkward time to go picnicking but you see we almost always go picnicking at this time because in the centre of the forest the loveliest flowers bloom. Nobody knows the actual name for it but we call it teardrops. They are simply lovely; it is a tradition to go now. It would be an honour if you would join us,” She could hear Mary’s unusual soothing voice persuading them.
“Oh yes, please mother may we?” it seemed the youngest sat beginning.
“Of course sweetheart. Will Mr. Fredrick join us?” the mother asked almost too eagerly.
There was no reply as the room fell silent, the silent hiss of Mary’s voice could barely be heard and then the clearing of Fredrick’s voice.
“Pardon, it seems I have drifted off with my thoughts,” Ithilwen tried to ignore the strange twisting of her stomach as his voice filled the silence of the house.
“Where to, if we may be so obtrusive,” the eldest Miss. Begenmore asked.
“Daniel,” he answered simply as the room sat in silence.
Ithilwen’s heart raced now and she tried to settle the blush taking over her face. She took a deep breath and walked rather hurriedly away. What was this nonsense?