"How does winter do it?" She levered herself up onto the windowsill and got, shakily, to her feet. She pressed her face up against the glass and glanced down at her breath that was already fogging up the surface. Her pale gold curls were messily arranged about her face, her angular features nearly white, and her long fingers pushed against the glass as if by some force of will or strength she could move it away.

Heavy snow blanketed the world outside. The world looked whitewashed—or covered in powder—a coating of glass covering each tree—but little Princess Jadis was never one for metaphors, not at her age. She was much more interested in tales of fantasy and sweets. Her mother sat primly in a large chair behind her, and she glanced up with a smile at her daughter. "Do what, dear?"

"Kill everything." Now her mother looked alarmed. Her startled expression didn't disappear as Jadis continued, "The first frost, it kills the plants, and then the snow kills the trees, and then the cold kills the animals. How does it do that, Mother?" When she received no reply, Jadis frowned, looked over her shoulder, and bounced from foot to foot. "Mother?"

There was no reply.

And all Jadis was left with was wonder.