A cabin lies, as promised, warm light melting through fresh snow, in the shadows of the mountain pass. Smoke drifts from its chimney, gently staining the canyon walls. The path here has been buried by snow for months, but you know the way -- your captain ensured it.

A woman watches as you trudge towards her. She draws smoke from her pipe and breathes it back out, unconcerned. You reach the end of the path and catch your breath, just for a moment. Mist clouds your vision.

You draw your sword. Your hand is numb from cold, but you can still hold it.

She breathes out another stream of smoke.

"I'm here to end you," you say.

She sighs and stands, finally, extinguishes her pipe and sets it on the table next to her. Smoke curls past her head. She steps towards you. You can't stop yourself from taking a step back.

"I'm a --," you stammer, "I am a knight of the king!" You try not to sound nervous. Your sword rattles.

She laughs, smirking. "What did he tell you?" She stops walking, close enough to stab.

"I am sworn to avenge the crown prince and his brother," You start.

"No," she interrupts, "I know your oath. You can't fulfill it." She takes another step forward.

You raise your sword and step back again. "I've trained! For years!"

"You misunderstand. There's nothing to avenge. They're unharmed."

Your sword falters. Your hand feels like it's freezing to the hilt.

"They told you I'm a threat to the kingdom. Is that right?" She steps forward again.

You don't reply.

"Did they tell you that they'd forgive your curse if you killed me?"

"How did you--"

"Your ears," she gestures at her own, "are growing pointed."

The sun is setting, and the glow from her fireplace paints the snow behind her orange.

She looks past you. "They didn't even give you a horse."

You stare at her.

"Well?" She says, turning her gaze back to you. "Now's your chance, exile knight."

She's close enough now that you could reach out and touch her. You can't meet her eyes. Your ears are burning cold.

"You're freezing." She says, eventually.

"...Yeah."

"Sun's going down."

You don't respond. You stare at your sword.

She lays her hand on yours, and it's so warm it's almost painful.

"Let's go inside." She says, gently.

You'd cry, if you weren't so cold. Your sword falls into a bed of snow, and you follow her up to the cabin.

Over her shoulder, she says "Leave your armor at the door; you'll scare my sister."

You fumble with the latches and straps of your chainmail for an eternity, clumsy from the cold. You can smell the smoke from her pipe, now, floral and bitter. You notice first, when you finally enter the cabin, that it is almost supernaturally warm. Your ears sting from the new blood circulating through them. Dried herbs and vegetables hang from the ceiling. A fire hums across the room, casting warm, flickering light over worn furniture piled with blankets.

"Sit down," says the woman, gesturing at a table in her kitchen.

You sit. She hands you a warm mug. You stare at it.

"It's just tea," she says.

You take a sip. It tastes like grass. "...Thanks."

You drink the rest of the tea while she cooks something. For some time, all you hear are the fire and her knife.

"They told me the same thing," she says, eventually. "That I could return from exile if I slew a dragon." She speaks in a low tone. "I could have my crown back, if only I broke my curse by killing my sister."

The fire crackles behind you.

"And now," she continues, "here you are, come to break your own curse."

"I don't-"

"You're not the first they've sent, you know." She interrupts. "I've fought off my share of knights -- I hope they warned you about that. You're just the first one with a curse."

The door opens and you shiver as cold air glides over your back. You hear a younger girl's voice say, "Priscilla, I caught a rabbit!"

The woman -- Priscilla -- gives her a soft smile. "Thank you, Penelope." She gestures to you. "We have a guest."

"Oh, is she from the village?"

"No," Priscilla replies, "he's from the south."

"The castle? But..." Penelope points at her own pointed ears. You brush your hair in front of yours before you can stop yourself.

"They're getting creative with who they send to kill us."

Penelope makes a face. You can see one of her fangs. "That's mean."

Priscilla laughs. "Yes, I agree." She holds out her hand. "Here, I'll prepare the rabbit."

Penelope gives her the rabbit and sits next to you. "How long have you been cursed?" she asks.

"Um." You start, unused to being asked so directly about it. "About two months."

"Two months?" Priscilla says, "It took a year before I had scales like that."

Your hand moves unconsciously to cover your arm. "I, uh..."

"And still ashamed of it," she sighs. "Here, Penelope." She hands her sister her own mug of tea. ("Thanks," she says.)

You take another sip of yours.

Priscilla hands you and Penelope bowls of steaming vegetables, covered in thick sauce and slices of grilled meat. "The village my sister mentioned is about an hour's walk north of here, through the pass." She says. "You should be able to find work there."

---

The sun rises warmer the next morning, but the snow still covers your sword where you dropped it. You promise the princesses you'll visit again, after you've gotten settled.