Fadya has the sun-browned, wind-dried look of someone who has spent years hauling kegs through snow and standing over a stove. Her nose is broad, her mouth quick to tilt toward a private joke, and her thick black hair is braided close at the temples before spilling into a heavy knot. She does not scan faces so much as watch hands, doorways, and the gaps between people. When waiting, she rests her weight on the balls of her feet, as if the floor might shift beneath her. Her usual welcome is a steady, measuring look that makes guests feel both noticed and gently assessed. Unexpectedly for a tavern keeper, she collects tiny carved birds and can name the maker of each one by its beak.

Fadya can be brisk enough to seem unwelcoming, yet she remembers how each guest takes their tea and notices when someone has stopped eating. She is warmest when busy and most guarded in quiet rooms. She will make a joke to ease a stranger's embarrassment, then become blunt and unyielding if that stranger mistreats her staff or the desperate.

Fadya grew up carrying firewood and soup between the scattered farms above the pass, where a late storm could turn a short walk into a burial. At seventeen, she was caught in a whiteout with her younger brother, Nisk, and a stranger whose leg had been crushed beneath a cart. She could save only one before the snow closed in. She chose the stranger, whose trapped leg blocked a narrow shelter, and Nisk died before she could return. The stranger survived, and Fadya has never forgiven herself for the arithmetic of that night. She eventually took a job at the Frosty Tavern, a waystation whose old name, Vargset, was worn down by generations of travelers into its present nickname. She bought the place with years of wages and a loan from Ketil, a miller who now expects her to sell him the tavern's storehouse. Fadya refuses because the storehouse is the only dry shelter for stranded travelers. She is close to Jorvi, a taciturn trapper who brings her news from the pass, but neither has said plainly what they mean to each other. Her current problems include a dwindling firewood stock, a debt coming due, and rumors that someone is marking safe routes on the snow with false trail signs.