Cold has made an entrance tiptoeing around the shores of Oz.
Lady De Winter will only die from the man who loved her most. Constance de Bonacieux used to whisper it to me in my dreams as I was growing up or maybe her ghost was. A pale light compare to the ice queen. A timid warmth in the middle of the Northen White season.
I am on the other side of the mirror now and Lady De Winter lost her nobility. She has become just Winter, a newborn child not strong enough to freeze the shores around me. She is beautiful though, enough to rapture the heart of Aramis again, children do that when they are happy. They make our heart overflow with peace, and I want to welcome her liked I have always welcomed Madame de Bonacieux.
From my window, I already see the whales on their journey north. They are going towards you as one full circle has reach you yet again. 66 circles this year, and Winter is withdrawing from your horizon to mine.
Exchange of destiny, musical chairs, and the poles are flipping as Winter hides from Constance in order to find her nobility and maturity again.
Aramis was a fool and Constance never really died, she is with you now, may her warmth reach your core in this start of a new cycle while I listen to the whales singing a lullaby to baby Winter.