After Solomon had left, cold realization dawned on Evren. She'd thrown herself into the sea, soaking herself in the battering waves so that she emerged stinking of nothing but salt. Yet the knowledge of what she'd done remained, sitting in her chest like a leaden weight. It was her constant companion in the days and weeks that followed, and it was poor company. Evren became withdrawn and morose, keeping to herself more often than not, patrolling often and smiling little. When Persephone looked at her, it was physically painful to try and hold her gaze: to see the kindness and love reflected in those dark eyes when Evren knew she did not deserve it.

By the time midwinter arrived, Evren knew she could delay telling Persephone the truth no longer. Her body was changing: subtly, but clear enough for any mare who had been in foal before. She only had so much time before her body unveiled her secret.

Nonetheless, she waited for a sign.

One morning the Forest dawned with a fine crystalline sheen of frost on every surface, so stunning it seemed as though Evren had woken in a fairy wonderland. Its beauty quickly faded, however, when Evren realized that the day had come. Her breath froze on her whiskers as she mentally prepared herself for the impending conversation, and no breakfast passed her lips in that time. She paced aimlessly until the frost melted and freezing rain began to fall in hard, half-melted pellets which pattered like a drumline on every bare branch.

Finally, she sucked in a breath and sought out Persephone. She found the mare in a quiet glade, sheltering from the worst of the rain beneath the cavernous boughs of an ancient evergreen.

"Sephy," Evren said quietly, and stopped herself before she could reach out to touch the mare. She hesitated, biting her bottom lip. "I need to tell you something. I've... needed to tell you for a while."

She stared at Persephone with a haggard, sleep-deprived face, her copper eyes hard and shining like glass. "I think... I'm pregnant."