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“King Lionel II Luthor rose to the throne upon the sudden death of his father, King Alexius. With Avalon in open rebellion following the Night of Silent Tears, the young King won a shocking battle beneath the walls of Londinium on the Eve of his Cornatation that saw the Houses of the Tall Pines brought back underneath the Crown.”

-A Pocket Guide to Avalon, Volume 35

Only the sound of the aging King’s cough filled the silent bedroom. Each one becoming more painful sounding than the last as the sickness took its toll over the man’s once perfect health. Bolts of thunder filled the rainy night sky outside the tall walls of Londinium. A hefty storm had blown over the Tall Pines and hammered the city.
It looked as if the Old Gods Lionel had forsaken for the new faith rejoiced at the King’s sickness.

The Princess’ green eyes had long gone bloodshot, pale cheeks flushed red and stained with tears. She sat so close to her Father’s bedside, hang clasped firmly into his as she her thumb brushed over his large worn knuckles.

Lex hoovered not that far away, the Prince looking far better than his bastard sister. His face was blank, his expression neutral as his eyes looked down onto the bed. His hands were clasped over the hilt of his sword, watching every move that played across Lionel’s face.

A team of healers and doctors from every corner of the Kingdom hoovered around the bedside, whispering quietly among themselves. Perhaps only ancient Magics could be enough to save his life, anything else unable to break the illness that had taken root in his heart.

Lena could feel Lillian’s eyes burning a hole in the back of her head. The Queen coming close to stand next to Lex’s elbow, leaning down to whisper into her only child’s ear. The young woman begun to turn her head over her shoulder, curious to see that look on Lillian's face, but was pulled back when she felt Lionel weakly squeezing her pale hand.

The same shade of green eyes bore down into her bright ones. Tired, strained from a lifetime of ruling and warfare, “...Lena..” The King turned his head as another wave from his coughing fit overtook him.

Lena could feel how deep it went, rattling her Father’s body, all the way down to his bones. The King waved off the healers that stepped closer, turning his head back to Lena. His thumb brushed over her soft knuckles, “Leave us.”

The strength and command King Lionel had carried his entire life was gone. The voice did not match his body, weak and soft, trying hard to still carry the authority he once did effortlessly. The King’s whose bloodline dated back to the founding of Avalon looked spent.

“My Husban…” Lillian started but was stopped short by Lionel rolling his head to stare blankly at Lillian.

“Leave us. Otis, stay.” Lionel called out to the room, motioning for the fat Lord Chancellor to stay rooted in his spot, eyes snapping from Lionel and then to Lillian.

Husband and wife appeared to have a silent conversation, narrowed eyes bearing down on the other until finally it was broken by Lex patting his Mother’s elbow, “Of course, Father.”

Lena did not miss the stiff glare Lillian sent in her direction, watching at each member of the room bowed to the King and exited, until the door was sealed by one of the Kingsworn. Lena found herself turning back to Lionel, drawn in by how the King’s eyes were fixed on her face.

Lionel twisted his head and coughed into the mountain of pillows, the smallest amount of black blood appearing on the fine sheets when he pulled his mouth away, a sudden show of strength appearing as he tugged on Lena’s forearm.

The woman found herself pulled closer to her Father, their faces hoovering near to each other. Lionel’s breath smelt of the different herbs and potions that had been shoved down his throat since the moment this illness came over him weeks ago.

“When I came into my throne, the Kingdom was divided and at war. I spent the better half of my young life restoring Avalon and uniting the Houses,” Lionel began, speaking in a rushed and hurried pace, afraid that another coughing fit would take hold of him before he was finished, “Peace with House El must be kept, Lena. The South must stay in the fold. Peace, the Kingdom must know peace.”

Too many hurried and panicked thoughts rushed through Lena’s head, only able to nod slowly at her Father.

Lionel turned his head away from Lena, looking to the overweight Chancellor who stood at the other side of the bed, “Do you have them?”

The Chancellor produced two small scrolls from his satchel, a shaking hand presenting it to Lionel who swiped it from his outreached palm. Lionel glanced between the two before handing one to Lena, “Open it.”

Lena, with a shaky hand and confusion running through her blood, gently took the scroll. Seeing the familiar crowned Luthor raven on the seal, she broke the dried wax and unrolled the paper to read it.

All the while, Lionel’s eyes had softened, speaking again, “You are my daughter. You have and always will be my daughter. But now, you are a Luthor by my decree. Legitimate in the eyes of the Kingdom, the Old Gods and Rao”

Lena’s mouth ran dry, her throat tightening as she looked up at Lionel with wide eyes, “F..Father, I…”

“There’s more to it, if you take it.” Lionel twisted his head into his pillows once more as another coughing fit overtook time. Stronger than the last time with a mouthful of black blood staining the white sheets.

Lionel’s pale body was shaking now, using the back of his left hand to wipe his lips. His right hand rose up to hand her the scroll, “The South must remain loyal, Lena.”

Lena glanced up to the Chancellor who had decided to inch backwards away from the bedside and hugged the wall, trying his hardest not to look on at the dying Lionel.

“The El’s of Krypton have 30,000 spears and 7,000 horses alone. The entirely of the Lowlands outnumbers every House north of the Pinetops 2 to 1. Westvale and the Tall Pines would not support the Crown, they barely do already. I know of your Brother’s hatred for the Southerners but you, you are my darling daughter and I know you will do what I must ask.” Lionel whispered, pointing with his finger for her to unroll the scroll.

Green eyes finally looked away from her Father and broke the seal on the second scroll. She couldn’t keep the surprise from appearing on her face, “F..F..father, this…”

“Is the terms of an alliance between House Luthor and House El. With your marriage to Lord Zor El’s daughter as the key...” Lionel covered his mouth with the palm of his hand as another wave of roughing overtook him, making his lungs shake with pain.

“Lex, Lillian, th..”

“They only know what I told them. That I was exchanging letters with Jor El. I have spent the entirely of my life trying to wash away the sins of my Father’s rule. This, this will ensure his legacy is gone.”

Tears were drying behind Lena’s eyes, now racing to make sense of what Lionel was offering her. What she had always wanted, to be a Luthor. To be a true daughter of her Father. To stop the sneering faces and the jeers from everyone inside of the Court when they thought the King wasn’t looking. To no longer be the bastard Princess.

Lionel leaned closer to Lena, his left hand brushing back the strands of her hair to tuck behind her ear, “Your Brother might be the King, but you would rule Northguard until a younger son of Lex is born. You will be the Lady of Riversfork, and if the Gods are cruel, the Lowlands.”

“You would be safe.” Lionel whispered in an even far lower voice that Lena swore it was her mind making it up if it wasn’t for the look in Lionel’s eyes.

She never wanted the Crown, all she had ever wanted was in that scroll, only waiting to be told to the Court. Bearing the King’s signature and his seal. It was offering her the only thing she had ever wanted from him, to truly be his daughter.

What future would she have if she refused this? Run away to Krayera if Lex didn’t send hunters to drag her back. To sit on her hands in Court and stick to the shadows praying that Lex quickly married and forgot about his...obsession.

Her eyes refused to look anywhere else but her Father’s, trying to covey what she couldn’t with words. He offered her another life with this.

Lionel curled his hand behind Lena’s neck and hugged her forehead to his, allowing Lena to whisper out, “Yes.”

The Ellington woods were silent around her, with only the chill cold of the Northern wind becoming her silent travelling partner. Freshly fallen snow mixed with frozen ground, making the substance cracked and break with each step she took onward.

Lena knew it was a dream, the picture was too faint, too blurry around her when she tried to look left or right. But everything felt too real, too alive. As if she was there or had been there.

Lillian said it was a curse on Lionel and Lena, to punish them both for Lionel breaking his marriage oaths that were taken in front of the Old Gods. Giving Lena intense nightmares and dreams that visited her often in her sleep.

Tonight was no different, with the thin cotton sheets ball around her waist as a thin layer of sweat covered her pale body, making the sleeping grown stick to her skin. Lena twisted her body to the side and shoved her sleeping face into the pillow as a vicious blow of the wind brought a shivery chill rushing down her spine.

The woods were thick with magic. Old Magic, forgotten to all besides the tall dark trees that towered over her. The only light came from the high full moon above her, with white beams peeking out from the branches and sprayed across her darkly clothed body.

Wild magic cracked in the air around her, with each step she took deeper, the colors shifted around her. The snow was replaced with freshly fallen autumn leaves. Bodies appeared around Lena, all women wearing the same dark robes. Some calling torches, some carrying baskets full of food.

Music filled the air, the voices of the women filling the air. In contrast to where she was before, this felt warmer, alive. The picture wasn't faint nor was it blurry. Lena could feel the warmth of the late Fall night, she could smell the species and the scent of the forest around her.

There were cries of ravens, crows, and owls in the air, the sounds of the forest becoming alive as the group travelled deeper into the woods.

The other women, if they knew Lena was there, did not make notice of it. A few looked at her as if she was there while others only glanced over the space she took up.

They came to a clearing in the woods, large enough to house the 30 or so bodies and a large stone circle that stood in the center. The large stones made a full circle around the edge of the clearing, with a stone altar standing in the middle, bearing a weaved circle cross made from Ironbark and blue mountain flowers.

Lena paused, watching as each woman came forward and placed their offering onto the altar. She nearly jumped out of her skin when a warm hand was pressed to the small of her back, a womanly voice whispering into her ear, “You next.”

Lena stumbled, a shiver running down her back though the air was warm and the hand on her back gentle. The silky voice spoke again near her ear, “It’s okay, Sister. There’s nothing to fear here not in this grove and not in front of the Gods.”

“I...I have nothing to offer.”

“But you do.” The voice whispered again, the warm body slowly pressing her through the grove and pass the mass of bodies to the altar.

A weight that Lena had not realized before was in her hands. Her green eyes looked down at a Ironbark crown resting there. Interweave
with from twigs and branches, a black gem rested engraved into a small circle on the center of the crown.

The others formed a circle around the altar, with enough space left for Lena and the mysterious woman that guided her forward. Each of the women linked hands and begun to sway their bodies right to left, a chanting filling the the night air.

Winds blew harsher through the forest, thick dark clouds that threatened to cover the moon disappeared making the white beams stronger down on them. The earth around the altar came to life, with dark shadows appearing from the edges of the woods. Wolves, bears, ravens, rabbits, and all matters of forest animals came forth to bear witness.

Lena placed the crown onto the center of the altar, right underneath the weaved sun cross. As Lena tried to step away, the warm body of the other woman kept her in place, the woman’s larger hand coming around to press another item in her hand, “You must.”

A jagged black dagger was pressed into her pale hand. With a hilt carved from ironbark, the moon caught over the reddish colored metal, a shock of a memory rushing down through her blood. She’s seen this dagger before, she’s held this dagger. Too many memories rushed around her, trying so hard to remember why this dagger was so burnt into her senses.

An all too familiar pained cough brought Lena’s eyes snapped back up to the altar. Gone was the weaved cross, crown and other offerings. Instead there laid Lionel, looking directly like he did in his final hours. Skin white as snow with a small trickle of spit coming from the corner of his lips.

His eyes were fixed on her, a wrinkly hand reaching up to grasp Lena’s wrist that didn’t grasp the dagger, “L..L..Lena.”

Lena moved closer to the altar, pushed on by the woman behind her and the surprisingly pull of her dead father. Her thin shoulders were shaking, tears breaking free from her eyes at the sight of her Father staring up at her.

“You are my daughter.” Lionel whispered in a pain hushed whisper.

“It’s time.” The voice whispered near her ear, her hand wielding the dagger being guided upwards above the center of Lionel’s chest.

“No!” Lena screamed through her tears but she felt her limbs not responding to the rest of her body, forced to watch. The chanting grew louder and louder still as the dagger was plunged downwards into the center of Lionel’s death, coming to a complete and deadly ill stop.

Lionel’s body heaved up at the force of the blade entering him, trickles of blood coming from the corners of his mouth as he took one last sharp
inhale of breath. His body went lax back into the stone altar.

“Do not cry, Daughter of Avalon, it is the cycle and he is now one with the moon and earth.” The woman’s voice whispered again, taking the dagger from her hand and then pressing a yellow flower into her left hand.

Through tear stained eyes, Lena looked at the flower, confusion raging through her, “A...lily?”

Her only response was the sharp giggle from the woman behind her as the world became black around her

.

The newly built Grand Cathedral of Rao stood like a beacon of light in the otherwise dark stoned city. The looming peeks of Dragon Ridge and Pinetops towered above them. A light drizzle covered the city, with large dark storm clouds ready on the horizon to bring a far harsher storm.

Lena stared on from her bedroom window. The tight black grown waiting for her on her bed, the team of handmaidens in the other room waiting for the command of the Princess. For a city in mourning, Lena couldn’t help to feel there was an unusual positive energy hanging over the Royal Keep.

The city was filled to the brim with every noble House of the Kingdom. Every wing of the Royal Keep housing as many as Houses as it could. Every fine inn in the city keeping the others. It wasn’t just nobles that came to pay their final respects to King Lionel, commonfolk from every corner of Avalon had made the journey for the funeral ceremonials.

The air was heavy in the city, more than somberness that came from the funeral. Even Lena couldn’t ignore the whispers in the hallways, lingering eyes that tracked her every step once she left her rooms. A sheet of paper might’ve given her a true last name but it was becoming apparent to Lena that wasn’t enough.

The world seemed to still be moving around her, not pausing in its step after Lionel’s death. After the afternoon, the gossip and conversations will change to Lex, to if the Prince would make into a fine King, forgetting of the one they had just buried.

Lena turned her head when her side door opened, her features softened at the sight of Jess closing the door behind her and approaching closer to where Lena sat, looking out the window.

“Your Highness,” Jess gave a curtsy, skirts reaching the ground until she stood back up straight, “Have you eaten yet?”

Lena dragged her green eyes away from Jess, at the mere mention of food a wave of nasumia rolled back over her, making her lips twist in discomfort, “Yes, Jess.”

“You know you can’t lie to me, Lena.” Jess’ tone was gentle and calm, finally stopping behind Lena. Long tanned fingers brushed through the Princess’ long hair, breaking any knots that had formed before she reached over to grab one of the brushes left on Lena’s vanity.

“I am not hungry.” Lena whispered out, leaning back into her plush chair as the handmaiden brought the brush up to move through her dark strands.

“And why is that?”

Lena wasn’t ready, she didn’t want to talk about Lionel, she didn’t want to explain how it felt to see him take his last breath. How in the span of a few weeks the Prince turned King that had put down a rebellion was made into nothing more than a wrinkly pale body.

“What have you heard of this Lady Kara?” Lena asked with a small sigh. The safer topic of conversation, the conversation that was no doubt being spoken in every inn of the city.

“Is that where your mind is today?” Jess said with a forced smile on her lips.

“I’ve...heard a great many things about her.” Lena decided on, allowing her mind to wander to that rolled up scroll in her nightstand.

“She won the grand melee just two moons ago in Krypton. Bested her cousin, Sir James Olsen, Lord Mon Gand, countless others. They say she’s tall, well built. With golden hair that falls to her shoulders,

steel blue

eyes. A true woman in every right.”

“A grand melee in the Lowlands? I know for sure they think anything besides jousting below them.” Lena commented.

“Maybe Lady Kara wanted to impress her Wife-to-Be. I can already see a sparring session where you just happen to walk past to see her in her full sweaty glory.”

The corners of Lena’s lips twerked up into a smirk, “It sounds you think about this Lady Kara often.”

“Only to find information for you, Your Highness.” Jess dryly remarked.

“What else have you heard?”

“There’s far too many rumors. Some say she’s kind, some says she an arrogant woman. They all seem to agree that she’s handsome and unparalleled with a sword. She wields Dragonspear, the El’s Family sword. Quite a feat for a cousin.” Jess begun to gently braid Lena’s hair, pulling it back into an elegant twisted bun.

Lena had spent the past weeks trying to remember if she had ever met Kara. She was sure, at some point, they had to, locked away in childhood memories.

“I’ve heard talk that her and Lord Mon Gand were due to marry, the agreement was broken off years ago, when they were children. If it’s true maybe that explains Sir Mon’s such uptightness. Now being bested by his former wife-to-be.” Jess said a humor apparent on her tone, waiting to spill out.

That thought did bring the ghost of a smile to Lena’s lips. She allowed the tension in her shoulders to ease for the moment, shutting her eyes and focusing on Jess’ soft speaking voice to fill the room. Her mind trying to build a picture of what Kara Zor-El must look like.

“Riversfork is a beautiful city and keep, I went there once before I came to serve you, Your Highness,” Jess noticed how Lena’s shoulders slowly relaxed back into the chair, no longer straining and perch as if waiting for an attack, “The gateway to the South. High white glimmering walls, shining silver towers that touch the sky. Far more colorful than Londinium.”

“Jess, you’re a handmaiden to the Princess, what would the Court do if they heard such

talk

about how

drab

the capitol had become.” Lena said dryly.

“I thought you Northerns were supposed to be all stiff and refusing luxuries like the sun.”

In spite of the day, Lena found a real giggle rolling from her lips. A smile cracked on the sides of Jess’ lips, unseen by Lena.

“Have you heard anything about her….” Lena trailed off, a faint blush coming to her cheeks as she tried to find the right words.

“Herrrrrrr?” Jess said in a song like voice, smirk becoming larger.

“Her

sleeping habits

.”

“And why in the world would that interest you?” Jess teased more, making the blush on Lena’s cheeks burn brighter on her pale skin, stumbling over her words.

“I…, uh…”

“It’s funny you mention that, I’ve heard no juicy Court talk on that

matter

.”

Lena cleared her throat to try and regain control over her cheeks, “I simply wish to know if I am to marry a….a

promiscuous

noblewoman who has a string of whores to call upon.”

Unfortunately for Lena, as she said that, the doors to her chambers opened again with a new woman entering the room. Dressed in a neat and flattering dress in Northern fashion, the Lady-In-Waiting Samantha Arias raised a large brow at the conversation.

“Well, seems like I came at the right time.”

Lena rolled her eyes as well as she could with the redness in her face, only growing larger with the smirk that came plastered across Sam’s face as if it was the funniest thing she had ever heard of.

Sam smoothed her skirt and took a seat on the edge of the Princess’ bed, “Is she talking about her betrothed?”

“Yep. She’s suddenly

very interested

in every little detail about her.” Jess finished with Lena’s hair and moved back to the vanity to a small canister and brush of light faint white powder.

“She’s here in the Palace. The El Household has just arrived. I’m sure she’ll

love

a nighttime visit from Lena.” Sam naturally jumped in, leaning an arm back into the bed.

That seemed to finally snap Lena from her stuttering. Jumping from the chair she clapped her hands together loudly, “Okay, that’s enough. Out, out! I’ll finish getting ready on my own. “

Sam rolled her eyes but stood from the bed and walked towards the other door. Jess passed the canister to Lena and winked at her, “I’ll let Lady Kara know you’re eager to meet her. “

Lena could only sigh loudly as she watched the two women retreat out of the bedroom. She settled back down into her chair and released a deep breath.

Her green eyes stared down at the grand Cathedral, to the long purple banners that flapped in the cold wind, bearing the crowned black raven on its field. Whatever wandering thoughts might’ve came to her, they were stopped short by the door of her bedroom being thrown open and Lex came waltzing in.

“My dear, Sister!” Lex had a smile on his face. A gold circlet on his dark brown curls, the soon to be crowned King smiled brightly at Lena, thin body covered in a dark rich tunic trimmed with royal purple. A pair of black trousers tucked into knee high riding boots. The gold hilt of a sword hung from his right hip, the making of a raven with its mouth clasped around a dark amethyst.

Lena turned at the sound of Lex and allowed her practiced smile come to her lips, curtsying, “My Prince.”

“My

King

.” Lex corrected, the smile dropping the smallest bit from his lips as he came to stand in front of Lena. There was a glimmer in his eyes, a glimmer that Lena had learnt to avoid. Her green eyes glanced over the room, she couldn’t risk making a scene with so many lingering outside.

Lena’s throat bobbled as Lex’s dark brown eyes ran over Lena, the smile twerking backup on his lips. His hands moved to gently grasp her hips, thumbs pressing through the thin dress she wore, nothing better than a nightgown, “My sweet, beautiful,

Sister.”

There was the smell of wine already staining Lex’s breath, rushing over her nose as he stared on at her. Hands lifting up from her hips to run over the sides of Lena’s body, “You’re not smiling, Lena. What’s wrong?”

Lex’s hands on her felt like ice. How they circled with such

fondness

over her, knowing how badly he wanted to feel the pale flesh instead of the material of the nightgown. Lena stayed still, taking a low breath and hoping she didn’t anger Lex more, “Today. Father’s death, this….marriage.”

Lex leaned forward to press a soft kiss to the tip of Lena’s nose, “It’s understandable. Father gave you a mighty gift making you a true Luthor and to only hand you off to those Southern traitors is heretical.”

Lena had trained herself well to not sure Lex how she loathed him being this close to her. How it made her blood run cold and made her stomach drop. She had learnt far too harshly where it would go if she tried to stop the Prince.

“My first order as King was going to be to burn that stupid agreement but atlas, Mother says I should errand on the side caution. AS if I, the King, the rightful

Luthor King

, must be ‘errand on the side of caution’.” Lex hissed with venom dripping into his tone, though it lessened as he looked back to Lena.

Lena dared to reached her hands up and gently put them to rest onto Lex’s shoulders, squeezing lightly into his thin shoulders, “You are the King, Lex. There is no doubt of that. But Mother is right, the El’s are strong and the Lowlands would follow them.”

The woman resist the urge to shiver when one of Lex’s hand ran up the curve of her spine, nodding at Lena’s soft honey tone, “Still. You need a proper spouse. Someone loyal, House Gand for example. They would surely understand if Mon’s dear wife spent all her time at the King’s side.”

Lena shuddered, hoping it came off as a pleasurable reaction to Lex’s hand dipping down and taking a handful of his sister’s ass, while in reality Lena was quickly feeling far more sick. Nerves boiled to steaming in her stomach, spreading through her bloodstream.

Lex nuzzled his nose across the side of Lena’s pale neck, taking in a deep breath of the vanilla scent that hung over, “Or maybe I will take you as my wife. And kill whoever dares to question it.”

Lena became still, letting Lex’s hands to wander as the threat was whispered from his lips.

The moment was finally broken when a knock came from the other side of the door, “Princess, it’s nearly time.”

Lex clicked his tongue between his teeth and placed a kiss to Lena’s plump lips, “Duty does call. I will visit you tonight, make sure to be ready for me.”

Lena kept herself pressed to the wall, watching Lex stroll over to the door and threw it open, letting the team of handmaidens into the room and disappeared from view.

The main hall of the Cathedral looked as clean as the outside. Built of shining white marble, worn tapestries lined with gold hung from the high walls. Scenes from the teachings of Rao painted into the marble by the finest artists her Father could find.

The center piece in the room was a grand white marble altar. With a crimson gold trim cloth thrown over it, the body of the King had been cleaned and dressed for the public scene. Dressed fully in his darken armor he wore in his youth during the rebellion. A raven was engraved into the chest piece with a ring of amethyst surrounding it. A crown carved from ironbark was placed gently onto his brushed dark brown hair. The only thing that was missing was the Luthor ancestral blade, Ravenheart.

Lena wrapped her fingers tightly around the edge of the altar, staring down at Lionel’s closed eyes. A thin layer of powder covered his face, making the pale white skin look more presentable.

Her fingers reached up, tracing the tips of her finger down the side of Lionel’s cheek. A fresh set of tears threatened to reach a breaking point behind her eyes.

Lena was pressed far too tightly next to Lex in the front row of the large building. Lionel standing not that far off as she dabbed her eyes with a black cloth. She resisted a shudder when Lex leaned over to whisper into Lena’s ear.

“I should burn this building down. Filthy Southern religion. The day Father converted was the day he lost the support of the old Houses.” Lex reached his left arm around the back of Lena’s chair and placed his hand onto her shoulder, making it look as if Lex was comforting his sister in this dark moment.

Lena tore her eyes away from where Lionel’s body was presented on a marble altar, nodding her head in response to Lex, “Yes, of course. The Herstons still haven’t forgiven for it.”

Lex snorted, drumming his fingers into Lena’s shoulder, “It’s more than the Herstons, Sister. You shouldn’t worry your pretty like head over it. Such issues can’t obviously be clasped.”

The Princess swallowed tightly, turning her eyes back to Lionel’s corpse. The priest was drowning on, words spoken straight from the Book of Sun that meant little to Lena.

She turned her green eyes away from the altar and brother, hoping to catch sight of anything else that looked better than Lex’s cold touch on her shoulder. How his fingers stroked her skin from over the dress.

Not far, sitting in contrast to the fashion sense of the northerners, were the collection from the Lowlands. Dressed in colors of green, yellow, orange, blue, and red. Their skin tones far from the pale white that near every northerner had.

It was the front row of the Lowland seats that attracted Lena’s attention, the members of House El. She knew Duke Jor El from the only other time he had made the long journey to the far North a few years ago to “celebrate” Lex’s name day and ascension to the Heir-Apparent of the Kingdom.

He was a broad shoulder man, with skin tanned like the others. His dirty blonde hair showed signs of his age, with large strands of salt colored hair slowly overtaking his youthfulness. A short stubble in the same matching color, he in many ways reminded Lena of her own Father.

Forced to the head of Household in his younger years and was forged by the Rebellion his own House had started.

King Alexius was long dead, the war long over and the Lowlands brought back into the fold by Lionel but the divide could still be seen plainly in the large room. The Night of Silent Tears saw too many Houses wiped out in full. With the Lowlands refusing to sit with many of the Northguard and Stoney Hills Houses.

The man next to Jor was smaller than him. With fine brightful robes bearing Rao’s burning Sun on it, the Lord Zor El of Riverfork stood at the direct opposite of his elder brother. A scholar by all accounts, he walked with a short brown cane, a known limp from a hunting accident in his youth had stopped any grand ideals of being a warrior like his Brother.

There was Kal El, the heir to Krypton and his wife. Both expressing the well jealous beauty of the Southerns. With copper skin and black hair. Strong traits from the mainland of Krayera that refused to fade over the generations.

As Lena drew her eyes over the El’s, another pair of eyes, blue and bright, crossed paths with her. Becoming locked from over the distance of the room. Golden blonde hair fell just past the woman’s broad shoulders, with a tight bun done on the upper half of her skull but allowing a curtain to still fall freely.

Lena found herself unable to tear her eyes away from the blonde woman whom she quickly realized as Kara El. Her betrothed, the woman she was supposed to marry if Lillian got her way. And Lena knew quite well that Lillian would be able to drive any silly notions from Lex’s near crazed threats.

Her skin was tanned but not strongly so. Obvious that she spent most of her free time outside, Lena couldn’t truly make out the clothes Kara wore due to the position but the El could be wearing nothing and Lena still wouldn’t be able to tell her eyes away from Kara’s face.

Green eyes dipped to trace around the strong outline of the woman’s jaw, upwards over her sharp features and to the small scar near her left eyebrow. Kara’s lips morphed into a low smile, keeping Lena’s eyes from over the distance.

She was broken from her trance when Lex stood sharply next to her, walking forward to the altar in which Lionel’s body rested upon. Placing his hands over his Father’s chest, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the pale flesh of Lionel’s forehead before stepping back and walking down the main center walkway.

Next came Lillian, dressed fully in a grown of black and thin veil covering her sharp features. She mimicked her son’s actions, though turning her head to send an intense low glare to Lena that made her pause in her seat.

“I get the feeling the Queen dowager hasn’t forgiven her late husband for his lone bastard.” Kal leaned over to whisper slowly into his cousin's ear, his blue eyes watching as the last of the Royals stood slowly from her seat and smoothed her skirts.

Kara nodded slowly at her cousin, steel blue eyes following Lena as she approached up to the altar. The Princess smoothed her Father’s hair, delicate fingertips tracing over the Ironbark crown, pausing for a long moment over the black gemstone resting in the crest of the crown, before leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his forehead like the rest of how her Family had done.

As Lena had turned to step away from the altar, blue and green eyes met again for only a short moment that felt as if it lasted far longer. It was an unshielded, unintentional moment where a look of pure fear was plastered without resistance across Lena’s face.

Their eyes remained lock, with Kara turning her head to hold it until it was finally broken and the look was gone, back was the ice mask that came into place over the Princess’ features.

Kal’s brows fumbled as the rest of the Cathedral came to life. The dark purple cloaks of the Kingsworn came forth to stand near the base of the atlar, allowing any of the nobility to come forth to pay their final respects. With the King’s body to lay there for 4 days, as per Northern traditional, until he was to be burnt on a great prye to embrace Rao’s Light.

The two cousins stood, watching as their Fathers mumbled to each other, heading for the direction of the doors. The pregnant Lois El came close to her husband and leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek, “I need to lay down before the feast tonight.”

“Are you alright?” Kal drew close to his wife, worried eyes glancing over her.

Lois gave a low giggle, tapping her fingers over his clothed muscular chest, “I’m pregnant, Love. I just need to lay down for awhile. I’ll be fine.”

Kal motioned for Lois’ handmaids to approach and carefully walk on either side of her to guide her back to the Palace and their rooms there, leaving the two cousins to stand alone in the mass of people.

He met Kara’s wide smirk with a raised brow, “What?”

“You’re adorable when you worry cousin.” The elder of the two joked, sliding a hand down to rest idly on Dragonspear’s gold hilt on her hip.

“Oh yes and don’t think for a moment I didn’t see those

burning looks

you shared with your wife.” Kal whispered lowly, guiding the two closer to the altar.

“She isn’t my wife.” Kara mumbled with a faint redness adding to the color on her cheeks.

“Not if you have anything to say about it.” Kal remarked dryly.

Kara opened her mouth to throw back another remark but quickly shot her mouth. She would always do her duty to the Family, it just so happened it lined up nicely for once.

Jor never liked Lonidiumn. It was a cold and dreadful city packed to the brim within its dark stone walls. It smelt of piss and shit for miles around , it was

bitterly cold

, and he hated seeing Lillian Luthor’s smirking face.

The sun never came out and every single time he made the long journey from Krypton to pay his time to the Crown, it never ended well.

Even tucked in this warm looking study with a roaring fire to keep out the first spring storms, Jor still felt a shiver running down his body every few seconds. Forcing him to tuck the fur cloak closer to his body as they awaited for the soon to be King and Queen dowager.

In the other chair next to Jor, Zor reached forward to one of the glasses of wine left for them, lifting the rim up to hoover underneath his nose as he gave it a sniff, “

Mulled wine

.

”

Jor snorted and crossed one leg over the other, placing his hands onto the armrests as he shifted his weight, “It’s a Northern delicacy.”

Zor was stopped short from replying to his brother’s dry remark by the doors of the stuby being opened by two dark purple cloaked knights and the entrance of the soon boy King flanked with his Mother on the other side, both dressed still dressed in their black colors from earlier that day.

Jor’s eyes passed over Lex in a single sweeping glance. He was thinner that how Lionel was near his age. The ancestral sword clanged awakarly from his hip with each step he took, his hand too small for the hilt.

Jor could clearly recall what Lionel looked like at Lex age. Broad shoulders, already on the way of becoming a skilled swordsman, leader and ruler. Lex looked to be the direct opposite of what his Father was. Even to the deathly white paleness that covered his skin.

The son to be King took his seat behind his father’s desk while Lillian paused at his side, clasping her hands together in front of her body, “I hope the journey here was not too hard, Duke Jor, Lord Zor.”

“Pleasant enough.” Jor responded for the two, glancing now from Lex to catch the hawkish feature of the Queen dowager.

“Enough pleasantries.” Lex waved his hand, leaning into the plush leather back of the chair. He rested his chin down into the palm of his hand, with long pale fingers spraying across his cheek, a near smirk still on his lips.

“Quite right, Your Royal Highness,” Jor paused, enjoying the thrill that came from the flash of anger in Lex’s eyes, “The contract bears King Lionel’s seal. It is not null and void. Will the Crown honor the fallen King last decree?”

“You must understand, Jor, that Lionel kept all in the dark about this. Even myself. It is a sho…”

Lillian was cut off by Jor shaking his head, “It’s a marriage contract. A marriage contract to a formerly bastard of the King. I believe this is far more than she could ever hope for out of life. The Lady of Riversfork is second only to the Duchess of Krypton in the Lowlands.”

Lillian’s mouth slowly pulled in, looking as if she was sucking intensely on a lemon. Her dark hawkish features fell on Jor who stared up at her with the same unflinching stare, “There are other matters at stake, Duke El.”

“And what matters are those?”

Lillian swallowed in an attempt to chase down her anger, her lips still firmly pressed together to make a thin line. Her head snapped to the side when Lex opened his mouth to speak, sneer barely held back on his face, “The Seneschal of Ravenhold as asked for a Family member to make the long journey to Northguard to see to issues that have been pushed aside. My Father made Lena my true sister, and it is the Luthors that sit in Ravenhold.”

Jor snorted loudly and itched the side of his nose, “Truly, Your Royal Highness? This is the

grand

reason to put off such a marriage that would see our Houses united truly for the first time in Avalon’s history?”

There was a moment, a flash of a look that appeared in Lex’s eyes that made Jor pause. How the young man’s hands twitched from the tone in the Duke’s voice. It was becoming apparent that the rumors circling around the soon to be King could have more truth in them than he thought.

“What do you propose, Jor?” Lillian’s voice was a thankful break from the silence that had fallen, giving her son only the smallest of glances.

“The marriage happens as planned. If this business is so...

urgent

, then I see no reason why Kara can not go with her wife.”

“I will not have my sister’s wedding overshadowing my coronation.” Lex suddenly snarled from his seat behind the desk, joining the conversation after cooling his anger.

Lillian reached over the side of the desk to push past the bangs that had fallen over Lex’s forehead. The soon to be King tried to brush his Mother’s hand away but Lillian stayed, “Naturally, my son.”

Zor’s eyes study the pair closer, hiding half of his face into the palm of his hand, his own dary eyes sparing a glance out to his Duke brother who too watched the pair, “Kara is the heir to Riverfork, her wedding will not be a small affair.”

Lex’s mouth opened with a snarl but Lillian’s hand curled around his shoulder to silence him, allowing her to speak, “It would be a discredit to her lineage.”

“I will

think

upon it, my Lords.” Lex finally hissed out, his eyes staring forward, refusing to look up at her Mother.

“I pray that a decision comes quickly, Your Royal Highness.” Jor smiled and stood alongside Zor. Both of the men gave short bows and headed out of the room, leaving the two Luthors alone.

Though the Royal Gardens was Lillian’s little plane of Hel, Lena enjoyed them far more than she would care to admit. It was the one place in the city that the intense smell of Londinium couldn’t reach her. Surrounded by every flower, herb, and rose from every corner of Avalon.

A cold breeze blew from off the mountains towering above them, but the chill didn’t reach Lena. The fur lined cloak was pulled tight around her shoulders as she wandered the stone paths of the gardens.

Her nerves and headache eases at the smell of the lavender planets she stops by. Pausing for a moment to lean over and hoover her nose near one of the flowers, allowing the familiar smell to fill her senses.

Lena draws back from the lavender but finds herself stumbling back when her foot rolls over a loose slippery brick in the walkway. The Princess throws her arms behind her with her hands trying to reach out and grasp for anything to steady herself.

Instead, she lands into the opposite plot of plants, her body crashing into a bush of white lilies and yellow roses. The thick thorns on the rose bushes slashing into random parts of her thick dress and cloak as she became tangled in the thorn bush.

“Oh for

fuck

sake.” Lena growled to herself, trying to wiggle up and out of the bush but only caused to get herself even more tangled, causing her to only get more tangled in the bush.

Lena’s head snapped at the sound of boots hitting on the stone walkway.

Her stomach fell into the pit of her stomach when the figure came into view in front of her. Of course it had to be

her

that somehow ended up exploring the same part of the gardens at the same time she was.

“Are you alright, Your Royal Highness?” Kara’s voice came out high, with a flushed red blush appearing at the bottom of her neck from the sound. She quickly crossed the short distance and tried to reach for Lena.

It offered the chance for a far closer look at the woman that Lena wasn’t able to do hours before. The small scar looked more like an accident that happened in childhood than something from combat. Her features were far more defined at this close distance compared to what she could see at the funeral.

Wide green eyes were the only thing Kara could focus on. Staring up at her from through the bushes and the thick cloak the Princess wore. Kara could feel her chest tightening with a certain uncertainty, reaching forward to offer her hands to Lena.

“Here.” Kara offered in a low rushed voice, curling her hands around Lena’s forearms and paused only for a moment before she pulled backwards.

Lena have a howl at the sudden show of voice and then being roughly pulled. She was hopelessly pulled into the blonde, sending both of them stumbling backwards , only saved from falling into the other plot of plants by Kara throwing one of her feet back to balance them.

The Princess’ hands clenching tightly to the front of Kara’s tunic, eyes still wide looking up at the blonde woman, their bodies being pressed together through their little awkward jiggle. There was a spicy scent that rolled off of Kara’s skin, strong now at this close distance of their bodies.

It reminded Lena of a canister of spice Lionel had spent far too much money on from Krayera. She was sure that it still stood in the vault underneath the keep with all the other collections Lionel spent a lifetime making.

The sweet low smell of lavender and vanilla tickled at Kara’s nose when Lena pressed herself into her in an attempt to keep back from stumbling forward more into the taller woman. The pair finally come to a stop, with both their eyes fixed on the other over the short distance.

The only thing Lena could focus on was how

warm

Kara was. The woman’s tunic was thin for Northern standards, allowing the palm of her hands to feel the hints of the El’s muscular upper body. The warmth wasn’t too strong, reminding Lena of one of the few summer days that didn’t have overcast skies this far north.

“Eh…, hi.” Kara was finally able to mumble out, her hands dipping down to grasped Lena’s elbows now that the two could stand steady.

Kara’s voice seemed to snap the Princess from her stunned moment. She snaps back and takes a step away from the blonde, hands cupping in front of her body, “Oh! I’m, eh...I.”

Lena notices the faint red blush that only grows stronger on the woman’s tanned neck and creeped further up to touch her cheeks. Kara dips her head, trying to hide the growing blush, a right hand curls around her sword
that appears like a nervous twitch, “Your Royal Highness.”

“I...It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Kara.” Lena’s Court manners appear to kick in, a small smile coming to the corners of her lips.

“Likewise, Your Royal Highness. Admittedly, I pictured our first meeting going a

bit

differently.” Kara’s head peeked backup, showing a flash of white teeth with a low smile of her own.

“Please, just Lena. The title is still new.” Lena’s smile dips for a moment before quickly replacing it again.

Kara dips her head once more, “Please, I… accept..”

A low huff comes from the depth of Kara’s chest, a nervous smile coming onto her lips, “Sorry, I’m, eh..,” The blonde’s eyes dip to her boots before looking back up again, “I don’t know how it feels to lose a parent so young and I pray to Rao that I won’t and I have a feeling there’s nothing I can say to make it better but I’m sorry for your lost. I can only imagine the pain you must feel and for it to be overshadowed by politics.”

There was very few times in her life that Lena had found herself speechless. She felt her throat bobbling with a sudden rush of tears that wanted to overtake her. She blinked them back the best she could and found her voice, “ Sincere honesty is a trait rarely seen here, Lady Kara. Thank you.”

“And that’s why my Cousin is going to be the Duke of the Lowlands.” Kara tried to joke with a rushed smile.

“Not a politician?”

“Don’t have the heart, I suppose.” Kara said softly, “Or lack thereof.”

Lena tilted her head to the side, green eyes doing another take over the woman standing from across her. The soft tone coming from such a naturally deep voice was difficult for Lena to place, it wasn’t what she expected.

The Princess’ eyes softened, glancing up and down before landing back onto Kara’s face, “Would you walk with me? The gardens are my favorite place in all of the city.”

Kara takes a glance over her shoulder and slowly around, “If it is,
I would love to accompany you.”

Lena found she didn’t find Kara’s height off putting. The woman was a more than a few inches taller than her, her broad frame strolled next to hers through the quiet paths of the gardens. She found Kara’s quiet presence different than most, unsure if it was naturally how the woman was or was it the obvious nerves that projected from the pair of them.

The Princess was finally the one to break the silence, clearing her throat before she spoke, “How are you finding Londinium so far, Kara?”

“Cold,” Was the very first thing that jumped from Kara’s mouth without much thought. A blush of shame coming to her cheeks, “I...I mean no disrespect of course, Your Royal Highness! I only mean...eh…”

“That it’s so very extremely cold?” Lena rolled her neck to the side, looking up at Kara with a raised brow and smirk on her lips.

The smile appeared to calm Kara’s nerves, the blush becoming stronger on her tanned skin. She returned the smile and dipped her head again, “Yes.”

“This is warm for early Autumn.” Lena keeps the smile on her lips and turns her face away from Kara, going back to look over the gardens.

“I should get a thicker cloak then.” Kara joked lowly, a small part of her glad now that Lena’s eyes weren’t fixed on her. The blush refuses to cool on her cheeks, her mind racing to think of

anything

to say to now fill the silence that had fallen in between the two, growing worse with only each passing second.

To Lena, the silence was comforting. Not that she found the conversation lacking but the last weeks seemed like a never ending storm of conversations where silence was the only thing she hunted for.

Kara licks her dry lips when a cold gust of wind rushes around her, spurring her mouth into action, “Why are the gardens your favorite place?”

“It’s quiet.” Lena whispered simply, her eyes still turned away from the noblewoman.

A blush of shame only burns brighter from the quiet admission, Kara’s mouth doing the thinking while her head tried to catch up, “I could leave if you wish, Your Royal Highness, I…”

Lena’s head slowly turns back to Kara, looking up at her with a slow smirk, “And banish my

hero

from my side? You did save me from the

foul

rose bushes. What would the Court say if they found out?”

The smirk doesn’t help calm Kara’s nerves, if anything it only makes it worse, her stomach and chest starting to bubble with a feeling she couldn't place. A bashful smile pulls onto Kara’s lips, “I envy your quick wit.”

“My Father said it was my only redeeming quality.” Lena tried to joke with the smirking running away from her lips and flattening into a thin line.

“I...I would’ve liked to met King Lionel. Father only told me before we left for Londinium what Uncle Jor
and the former King planned. It’s only right for the eh….other bride to meet the bride’s father.” A faint blush flared again on Kara’s cheeks as she tried to find the right words.

Lena glanced back over to Kara, raising a low brow, “Is that how things are done in the South?”

“Rao no. You could blink and already be getting carted off to your husband or wife’s new castle with a good pat on your shoulder and a ‘I’ll see you next year’ from your Father.” Kara deadpanned.

A true and real giggle bubbled up from her chest. Lena tried to hide it behind her hand but Kara caught it, bringing forth a low grin of her own onto her lips.

The path of the garden quickly ran away in front of them, leaving Kara longing for more time. She found Lena’s company better than she had thought, with only rumors to go off from about the King’s bastard.

But duty called to them and standing at the far edge of the garden was Lena’s Ladies-in-Waiting and the rest of her escort. Each head seemed to peek up that Lena had now appeared with Lady Kara next to her.

“I do believe they’re staring.” Kara mumbled out.

“I’m sure by the end of the day half of the castle is going to believe you stole my virginity in the middle of the Royal Gardens.”

The pair came to the end of the path before Kara could think of a witty response, leaving all eyes on the pair of noblewoman. Kara turns her body in the direction of Lena and clasps her heels together, giving a short bow, “Thank you for the pleasant conversation, Your Royal Highness, I hope we might do it again.”

“Hopefully with less

excitement

next time.” Lena matched Kara’s gentle smile.

“I’ll be watchful of any rose bushes then, Your Royal Highness.”

“My Hero.”

Kara watches Lena turn and lead the way back inside of the castle, each member of her retinue turning to follow after the Princess, low whispers growing louder after the little display. The knight watches on in silence, even after Lena has disappeared from view, a soft sigh rolling from her lips.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“The Great Betrayal took place in the ending days of the Heroic Age. Upon the death of Avalon, his greatest compion, Andrius Vandrake, defied Avalon’s will and usupered Avalon’s son from his throne. Killing the young man and taking the throne for himself, it would launch the whole of the Kingdom into the Dark Age, a period of great warring that lasted nearly a century until King Owen of House Avalon restored his Family to the throne.
Banshing House Vandrake to the cold far reaches of the Shivering Sea, cursed to never step foot once more upon the island.”

-Pocket Guide to Avalon

Kara found herself wandering the halls of the Royal Keep. The dark stones stood in contrast to the white marble of both Krypton and Riverfork but she didn’t necessarily find it lacking like how many of the Lowland Houses thought.

It was done in Northern fashion, with fur rugs and dark colors hanging from the walls. The stone told the tale of House Luthor itself. It’s roots dipping all the way back to Avalon’s landing centuries prior.

The El paused in the hallway, her eyes staring up at the portrait that hung from the wall. One that of the late King Lionel. He was young in the painting, with the ironbark crown nestled on his black curls, it had to have been done during the Rebellion of the Three Dukes.

Before Kara could turn away and try to find her way back to where her rooms were, the sound of footsteps drew the blonde’s attention. Turning the corner was a large, overweight man. With thinning hair and dressed in rich looking purple velvet and furs. He drew a napkin cross the sweaty red flesh of his exposed forehead.

The large man paused in his step when he saw Kara standing before him. Noting how well dressed the woman was, the gold hit of her sword and her blonde hair; he bowed his upper body, “My Lady Kara El, a pleasure.”

For such a large man, his voice was pleasant. Smooth and silky, with a certain skill in speech that was uncommon among many this far north.

Kara arched a brow at the large man, “Well met. I apologize, but you have me as a lost of your name.”

The large man approached closer, with his mouth opening slowly to smile at Kara, showing two rows of yellow teeth, “Lord Chancellor Otis Herston, my Lady.”

“Ah. A pleasure, Lord Chancellor.” Kara gave him a flat smile and made a move to step around him.

“He was quite the figure in his youth, wasn’t he?” Otis did not move, in fact, he had turned and motioned his head towards the portrait of Lionel.

Kara’s teeth tunneled at the inside of her cheek, holding her tongue in place as she was forced to pause in her step. Her steel blue eyes had narrowed upon the fat man, her left hand still rested on her sword hilt like it always did in a relax position.

“Quite.” Kara decided on, knowing that it would do no good to make a scene with the Chancellor of the King.

“Your Uncle handed him his worst defeat of the Rebellion! Truthfully something that this alliance has been able to crafted by House El and House Luthor.” Otis dabbed his cloth over his forehead again and cuffed it in front of his mouth to cover up his cough.

“My Uncle Jor doesn’t speak often on the Rebellion. Only that he respected King Lionel as his enemy and later as his King.” Kara tried to keep her voice even, spying at the Chancellor out the corner of her eye.

A calm, flat, neutral expression formed across Kara’s features. Well practiced but still very obvious to her uncertainty of the place. She avoided these types of conversations for a reason. With each word having some hidden meaning she was supposed to pick up on.

“Hmph. It is most interesting, even I wondered, when Lionel came to me asking what I thought of a marriage between you and the now Princess,” Ottis dragged his face away from the portrait and to Kara, “What do you think of it?”

Kara doesn’t answer straight away, truthfully unable to as she too turns her head to face the Chancellor. Otis’ eyes remain passive, like the rest of his large body, only looking upon her waiting for her answer. But the Lord had been in Court for decades now, and everything he did had to be for a purpose.

A purpose that Kara wondered in that moment.

“I am unsure, my Lord. How can I speak for a King?”

“If there was one thing that Lionel loved more than his Family, it was Avalon. The Kingdom, it’s people. The Kingdom can only survive with peace. True, everlasting peace. A harsh lesson that he learnt from his own Father, King Alexius.”

Otis wiped the corner of his mouth with his hand cloth, allowing silence to drag on to give Kara time to think upon his words, “Is that what you desire, my Lady Kara? Peace?”

“Whose heart does not desire peace? The scars of the rebellion are not easily forgotten.” The flatness in her voice breaks away too quickly, giving away what she actually felt. She tries to roll her lips and press them back into a firm line, searching for that mask she just had.

“Too true. Look at House Danvers and the scars that they bear for fighting in your Uncle’s name.” Otis’ voice was gentle and soft, eyes still yet on Kara, watching her for each little response she gave.

Kara pressed her lips into a thin line, releasing a burst of air from her nose, “Needless deaths.”

“But was it a needless war? King Alexius’ madness saw your own Grandfather
beheaded in front of the Court. One of the many that had earned Alexius’ anger. I was only a young man at the time but I still remember the scene clearly.”

Kara’s eyes, which were slowly lingering back to the portrait of Lionel snapped back to Otis, a blonde brow raised. Was he trying to spark anger out of her? She took her time to pick her words carefully, feeling as if there was something more lingering behind the man’s eyes, “Aren’t all wars needless?”

“How so, Lady Kara?” If Kara didn’t know better, she would say Otis looked interested in what Kara thought, his tone perking up for the first time in the conversation.

“War is only politics. No matter how someone dresses it up. Hiding behind honor, chivalry, it being

the right thing to do

. No matter how noble the war might seem, hundreds, thousands will still die all the same. Fields will be burnt, cities brought to ruin, and families wiped out. True King Alexius’ madness had to be brought to an end, but the war that followed still rages to some. To claim it as anything else is wrong.”

“An….interesting perspective, Lady Kara,” Otis titles his head at Kara, nodding his head to himself, “Interesting indeed. I won’t keep you anymore, Lady Kara, enjoy the capitol.”

Kara turned to watch the fat Chancellor stroll away, unable to fight a low unsettling feeling that came to rest in the pit of her stomach. Her fingers uncurl from around Dragonspear’s hilt, letting go of a breath she kept locked tightly within her chest.

Both her Father and Uncle had never mentioned anything

good

to say about Lord Otis Herston. But that was not what she was expecting, testing her so openly like that. To what end? Had Lex sent him to find her? Lena? Someone else?

Kara nearly jumped out of her skin when a friendly familiar voice called from the end of the hallway, “Kara! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Never before in her life had the blonde been more thankful to see her redheaded cousin. Alex Danvers stood nearly as tall as her blond headed cousin. With a rich crimson cloak hanging off of her shoulders, she was dressed in a dull gold coloring armor. The sigil of House Danvers upon the breast of her surcoat, a dancing two headed griffon.

Alex raised a red brow at the look on Kara’s face, something she tried to chase away with a swift shake of her neck, “I’m afraid I got lost on the way back.”

“Hmph,” Alex’s lips twisted up into a smirk, “Lost she says. I’ve already heard of how you

stumbled

across your betrothed.”

Kara rolled her eyes and stepped forward to start down the way Alex had just come from, the redheaded knight barely a step away, “How did I

know

this was going to happen.”

“Because this is Court. The Duke has been asking for you. From what I’ve gathered, his meeting with our new King did not go well.”

“The marriage will not go on?” Kara suddenly stopped mid step, almost making Alex ram right into Kara’s shoulder.

“By Rao,” Alex grumbled to herself, stepping off to the side to avoid running into Kara, “I don’t

know

. Don’t look so much like a kicked dog.”

“You were his squire, shouldn’t you know his moods?” Kara tried to find a teasing grin but failed as her steps picked up, noting the familiar hallway from when they arrived earlier that week.

“And you’re his

favorite

niece.”

“If I didn’t know better, I would say you’re jealous, Alex.”

“Hardly, I hear the Princess has the ability to summon wolves and sacrifices servants in dark rituals deep within the keep. Doesn’t sound like a happy marriage.” The dryness in Alex’s voice nearly makes Kara chuckle at the deadpan humor.

“Just like how the Priests warned us about.” Kara jokes but her head does linger for a long moment. Linger back to the moment in the gardens when Lena’s hands fisted at her tunic, where they were close enough that Kara could smell the faint smell of her lotion that rolled off her pale skin.

“I never took you as one to listen to Court rumors.” Kara’s hand around her sword hilt finally eased at the familiar sight of the House El soldiers. The crimson Krayera symbol flanked by two golden dragons stood out on the freshly washed surcoats of the soldiers, catching Kara’s eyes.

The woman felt suddenly under dressed in the thick dark long sleeved tunic and cloak. The only sign of her blood was the hilt of her fine longsword and, in part, how she carried herself.

The entire wing of the Keep had been overtaken by the ranking Houses of the Lowlands; House El of Krypton, House El of Riverfork and House Danvers of Walden. Dozens of other Houses lined in the guest quarters of the Keep and countless others in the fine inns not far from the Keep itself.

It was not her Uncle that met her, which Kara supposed would’ve been better compared to who did wait for her. Those thin lips pressed firmly together, a crimson red dress flowing from her body as if she was the Queen herself.

Alura El was not a native of Avalon. Her bronze skin and flowing dark brown curls told of her direct Krayera blood. Not uncommon in the Lowlands but this far north, her Mother stood in contrast to the shades of pale of the northerners.

“

Kara

.” Her Mother’s tone was curt, with a flash of her eyes passing to Alex.

“Come find me after your tongue lashing.” Alex whispered cheekfully into Kara’s ear and then stepped away, giving a short sweeping bow of her upper body to escaped the Lady of Riversfork annoyance.

“Mother.” Kara tried school her face and respectfully dip her head, suddenly feeling like that wild 9 year old girl who had just been caught stealing her Uncle’s prized warhorse.

Alura twirled and started off, leaving Kara to hurry after the older woman, her long legs trying to cover the distance to walk alongside her Mother.

Mother and daughter linked arms together, leaving Kara to shiver the smallest bit in fear. If Alura was

quiet

like this, it only meant she was truthfully

angry

about something.

“We do not need you adding fuel to the fire.” Alura finally spoke as the pair of El’s strolled through the halls of the wing, heading in the direction of the rooms Zor had taken for his for their extended stay.

“Nothing

happened,

Mother. Do you truly think I would make mockery of myself like that?” Kara picked her words as carefully as possible, keeping her voice low to not be overheard.

“It doesn’t matter if it did or didn’t, we must make sure this marriage goes as smoothly as possible for all of our sake.”

Kara didn’t answer back to that. Her mouth opening but then swiftly shutting as Alura stopped the pair in front of the closed door of Zor’s rooms. With the door being opened by Alura, she was gently motioned inside and then the door shut behind her.

Jor’s back was to the door, his front facing to a low burning fireplace. The Duke turned at the sound of the door opening, swirling a glass of amber liquor in his right hand. He motioned to one of the high backed empty chairs that stood in front of the fireplace, “The last time you had that look on your face, you had returned with my stolen horse with a thrown shoe.”

Kara’s shoulders relax the best they could from underneath her Uncle’s eyes and made her way to the empty chair he had pointed to. Only pausing to undo her sword belt and lean the blade on the side of the chair, “Wasn’t that fast of a horse.”

“You’re much more clever than your Mother gives you credit for.” Jor brought his glass up to his lips and took a sip from it, moving to take the other empty chair in front of the fire.

“Don’t let her hear you say that.” Kara dared to say in a low whisper, the edge of a smirk on the corner of her lip.

Jor smiled into his glass and shook his head at his niece, “Your Mother cares for the future of the House. As you well know, she was and still is against this marriage. A bastard is still a bastard in her eyes and unfit for you.”

“Then why did you agree to it?” The question that had plagued Kara’s mind since the moment it was told to her finally broke free from her lips, causing her head to snap in the direction of Jor, suddenly wishing she hadn’t said it.

“Because she is of the Royal House and if Kal wasn’t already married, it would be him marrying her,” Jor turned his eyes from Kara and back to the fire, raising his glass back up to his lips, “Blood is blood and she has the right amount in her.”

Kara wisely decided to bite down on the inside of her cheek, keeping her own private thoughts just that. There always had to be something more, “Alex said you met with the King today.”

“What a King he will be.” He remarked dryly, reaching over to refill his glass from a silver pitcher that stood not far from his chair.

“D..do we have something to fear, Uncle?” Kara licks her dry lips, unsure how to phrase the question in the way her Uncle would want her to do so.

Jor’s eyes turned back to Kara, looking hooded from underneath his heavy brows, the silver rim of his glass hoovering not that far from his lips, “We all have something to fear. All I need you is to play your part.”

Kara wants to ask more, to push back, but her Uncle’s eyes stick on her, looking far darker in the poor lite room. It leaves Kara to bow her head and stand from the chair, knowing that with the curt final words she was dismissed.

She only paused to grab Dragonspear and tighten the belt around her hips. She made it as far as to the door when Jor’s voice stopped her once more, “Kara.”

“Yes, Uncle?” She turned her head over her shoulder. The Duke had stood, adding another log to the roaring fire, his eyes fixed upon the dancing flames.

“Send for my son, if you will.”

Kara bowed her head again in a silent response and opened the door to exit back into the wing.

“I.am.the. King!” Lex’s voice rang like a painful scream through the King’s study. The boy’s voice came out high, pinging from wall to wall of the room.

Lillian hide her face behind her wine glass, tipping back the wine glass to drain the contents. Her arm extended outwards to her see, swirling the glass with a soft voice speaking out to a nearby servant, “More wine.”

A mousy looking girl came from her place on the wall, stiff and as perfect as a statue until she moved.

The center of the young King’s anger was the well dressed and well wrinkled Lord Treasurer Richard Willington. A thin, white haired man who had seen one too many winters than what would be considered number. A large leather bound book was hooked underneath his thin arm, a thick pair of glasses perched upon his nose.

“Your Majesty, the late King Lionel spent decades erasing the Crown’s debt to House El and the Bank of Vesia, to purge the coffers on an elaborate…”

Lex’s back rounded back around to the old Lord Willington, his dark blue eyes catching a certain dark flames as his face twisted into a snarl, “Do you not think that I’m, as the

King

, granted leave to have a tourney for my coronation?”

“Of course not, Your Majesty!” Lord Willington’s voice went high, his fingers fixing the edges of his glasses, using the time to pick his words carefully, “But to air on the side of caution this early into the reign would display His Majesty’s wisdom in governorship.”

There was a darkness that clouded into the young man’s eyes. A sneer free on his feature, twisting his lips and cheekbones back, “Sir Vyrwel!”

The door to the study open, allowing the darkly armored Kingsworn to enter into the room. The man’s full white hair contrasted the dark armor and purple cloak he wore. The crowned Luthor raven stood encrusted on the center of his breastplate, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Please see Lord Willington back to his study. It would be a heartbreak to the Court if something was to happen to him with so many staying in the Palace.” The sneer stayed strong on Lex’s face, taking a step closer to the treasurer.

From behind the Willington, Sir Arthur Vyrwel’s bright steel eyes glanced away from the young King and to where Lillian sat sipping from her wine glass, whatever she thought was hidden by a mask of indifference, boredom. A mask mastered from a lifetime of living at the top.

Sir Arthur rested a hand up on the older man’s shoulder and motioned to the door, “This way, my Lord.”

“Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness.” Lord Willington bowed to the two, allowing himself to be lead out by the commander of the Kingsworn.

“Old men will be the doomed of this Kingdom if I let them have their way..” Lex hissed, his face finally relaxing as the door shut behind the pair.

“You should listen to wise members of your council. The crown can not afford such a large expense.” Lillian turned her hawkish features upon her son, her lips pressed firmly into a frown.

“He disrespected me.”

A low sigh rolled from Lillian’s lips, attempting to hide the sound with another sip of wine, “He gave you council. You must learn the difference.”

Lex’s jaw tensed for a long moment, a low crack sounding from the move. He turned away from the door and moved back the large desk, “I know the

difference

. I will not be spoken down by that old crackpot.”

“The Lord Treasurer has long served the Crown, Lex. I can assure you of his loyalty, and his wisdom in this matter. We can not afford needless expenses,” Lillian stood from her chair and moved closer to where her son had taken his seat at behind the desk, wine glass still in her right hand, “But, if this agreement that your Father made is held, perhaps the El’s would be willing to assist the Crown without a loan seeing as we are Family now.”

The the mention of the El’s, Lex’s face twisted into a frown, looking down at the random papers spread across the flat surface of the desk, “Why is it that you’re pushing so strongly for this

marriage

? You have never liked the El’s or any Lowland House.”

“Because if you are to rule, we need allies. It was only 2 decades ago that the whole of the Kingdom was in rebellion, many of us still remember those times. And I will not see the El’s use a broken marriage pact as a pretense for war, Lex.”

The appeared to strike some sense in the young man, but the frown did tighten into a sneer upon his lips. He fell quiet, slim fingers tracing the random patterns into the wood of his desk, “Then I will do what Father never could and crush their armies when their rise up.”

“The Lowlands have the funding of both their vaults and the Bank of Vesia. They will out spend us. Your Father was many things, but he wasn’t a fool. He had a reason to marry your

sister

off to the El’s. To secure your throne.”

Lex’s long spider like fingers itched into the side of his chin, a thin patchy beard starting to show from the days without a shave. The young man stared down at the desk, his green eyes focused down on the scattered sheets of paper, “I was taught not to cuddle treason.”

“Would you see the peace your Father won slip away so easily from our, your, hands.” Lillian corrected herself, hawkish eyes narrowing down onto her son.

“No,

Mother.

”

“Then you see the reason and logic in this marriage. You are

strong

, Lex. Let them have Lena, lure them, use them for what they’re worth”

The man became silent, eyes fixed upon the door on the far side of the room. The silence dragged on until Lex patted his Mother hand and removed his grasp, “I will agree to it. But they will pay for their role.”

Unseen by Lex, a smirk appeared on Lillian’s lips, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her son’s head and drew her hands away, “Very well, I will send the happy word to House El.”

Lex’s attention turned back to the papers on his desk, gathering them up into a neat pile, “Send for Mon Ganad. I must speak to him.”

Lena had long given up on trying to read the large dusty book in her lap. Her attention refused to stay still on the worn pages and instead lingered out her bay window that gave view to the city.

The dark grey clouds looked more like wisps in the sky, moving onward over the horizon to where snow peaked mountains stood above the city. She enjoyed the quiet, more than she would admit to anyone else.

Outside her rooms, she could hear the passing and goings of the Keep, already the energy of the city had turned away from Lionel and now was solely fixed upon Lex’s final days as Crown Prince.

The starting of a headache was forming at the base of her skull, wanting to move up and squeeze her head. Lena inched back into the chair and rested her head over the edge, forgetting completely of the book in her lap as her eyes softly shut.

It always started the same. Rushing of colors around her before a great darkness surrounding her, taking her whole and blanketing everything in it. Then there was always light, a such powerful light that it was blinding, always forcing Lena to avert her eyes.

It happened all in front of her, this cycle, moving so fast that she could never keep count how many times it happened until the light didn’t fade, burning so brightly that she was forced to shut her eyes and when she opened them, she was always somewhere else.

Fog blanketed around her this time. Hanging heavy over the green and brown forest ground. Green eyes peeked opened, thankful that the light was gone, replaced with the last light of a fading sun in the distance, leaving beams of sun to shine through the branches.

Her hands sprayed over the earth, feeling a certain empowering feeling rush over her. To feel so connected to a place and yet still so distant brought Lena’s head nearly to splitting. She laid there on her knees, her hands twisted into the dirt and leaves.

The sound of cracking leaves and twigs snapped Lena from her moment. Her head swirled, searching for the source of the sound that seemed to be approaching closer.

Coming from the fog to her right, was a hooded figure. A normal height, and what Lena could make out of the form, a woman. Lena became still, her green eyes becoming fixed as the figure reached up to toss off the hood she bore, allowing her features to be seen.

There was a sudden shiver of knowing that came to the core of Lena. She knew that face, but she was sure she had never seen it before in her life until this point. Perhaps a memory of a memory, locked so deeply within her.

The woman’s features were youthful, a certain beauty that seemed similar to Lena’s own. Dark green eyes looked the same shade of the forest around her, with raven hair falling in dark curls just past her shoulders. Those eyes fell on her, focused sharply on where Lena sat on her knees.

The dark haired woman made a step closer to Lena, a certain curious brow raising, perhaps feeling as if something was watching her but she couldn’t see it, see Lena. She was stopped short when another voice came from the fog of the forest, “Henrietta, where have you gone?”

Lena’s eyes narrowed, brows fumbling together at the mere mention of the woman’s name. Why was she seeing this? How could she be seeing this.

Henrietta frowned sharply, dragging her eyes away from Lena and over her shoulder, “This way, we’ll reach it before the moon rises.”

Coming from the fog was another figure, far more heavily built and male than the thin Henrietta. Golden blonde hair was the first feature Lena could make out of the man besides his towering height, iron chain armor did nothing to dwarf the man.

“This place feels….old.” The man said simply, pausing to scan over the foggy trees, speaking still yet to the woman.

“I thought you didn’t believe in magic.” The woman appeared to tease, smirk pulling on the corners of her lips as she started once more.

Lena stood upon her legs, feeling a pull to follow the pair through the forest.

“I am not Andrius. I can feel it, especially here.”

“I suppose you want me to be grovel at your feet for not bringing your lapdog.” Henrietta quirked dryly, turning her head over her shoulder, but her eyes did not look to the man that was following her, but instead to Lena.

“He’s untrusting of this plan, as you well know.”

“If the Coven supports you, then the North supports you; without bloodshed.”

The man turned over his shoulder, scanning over where Lena stood and then elsewhere over the dark forest, quickly picking up his pace to Henrietta, “I trust you, Henrietta. You haven’t lead me astray yet.”

“Good, keep pace less the Horned One catches us.” The woman said simply, waving her hand to the fog around them.

The man’s head snapped back and forth, his eyes
squinting through the fog. Those blue eyes fell on Lena at one point, causing the young woman to stop in her step, almost as feeling the man could see Lena.

But, he turned away, and followed after the woman.

The dense woods gave away to a clearing as the unknowing trio walked for what felt like hours. The air was still heavy with fog, but before them was a four way crossroads. Forest paths ran out in each four directions, with each each path ending in the center point of the clearing.

But it was what in the center of the forest that attracted Lena’s full attention. A circle of tall stones ran in a circle around the edge of the clearing and in the center was an altar she had seen some nights before.

“The center of the forest.” Henrietta whispered out.

Lena shakes away from her sudden nap at the sound of knocking upon her door. Her green eyes blink away the sleep as Jess’ voice speaks to her, “My Princess, Sir Vyrwel is requesting entrance, are you decent?”

Trying to wipe the sleep from her eyes and the dream that lingered in her head, Lena tossed the book onto the bench of the bay window and stood up, smoothing her skirts, “Yes, please see him in, Jess.”

The door opened with the Lord Commander of the Kingsworn entering into the room, dark purple cloak flapping behind him, “Your Royal Highness.”

Sir Arthur stopped in the middle of the room and bowed his upper body as Jess closed the door behind her and she too took a spot hugging the wall of the bedroom.

“What do I owe the visit of the Hero of Riversfork?” Lena smiled softly, she was never one to turn down the company of the white haired knight. Her father had trusted the man since youth and he never left Lena to believe she couldn’t do the same.

“The King has asked for your presence in his study and sent me to collect you.” Sir Arthur tried to match the smile but it failed on his face, leaving the corners of his mouth awkwardly half twisted upwards.

Lena’s face and body remained lax and passive, not giving a hint to the Kingsworn nor Jess but a known crippling fear rose to clasp the whole of her body into a vice grip, “Ah, who am I to keep my brother waiting.”

Arthur’s eyes glanced over Lena, searching across her face but the Princess hid her fear well, only smiling at the Kingsowrn. Perhaps even the noble Sir Arthur had heard of Lex’s obsession.

Sir Arthur walked only half a foot behind Lena, a comfortable hand resting over his sword hilt as Lena lead them. She was glad when he didn’t comment on her turning left instead of right out of her rooms, that would lead them the long way around the Keep to the King’s chambers instead of the most direct route.

Sir Arthur gave Lena one last smile and turned his attention to the double doors, raising his fist to knock once. There was only a short pause before she heard Lex voice calling for them to enter through the wood.

Her back went straight, trying to force herself to stand up taller. She hid her sweaty palms by smoothing down the front of her black dress and interlaced her fingers with the others in front of her body.

Lena had fond memories of sitting on Lionel’s knee as a girl when he sat behind that desk. She could fit still for hours, simply watching her Father work and mumble to himself. Barely understanding, but nodding slowly,at every piece of information he tried to explain to her.

It was one of the only places Lena was able to be his daughter.

But instead now of Lionel sitting behind that desk, it was Lex. His attention not fixed on the door, nor Sir Arthur, nor Lena herself. But instead to the chess board laid out in front of him, and Mon Gand sat in a chair opposite from him.

“Your mistake was sacrificing your Queen so early.” Lex said, long fingers sprawled across his cheek, pointing with his other hand at the pieces on the board, “I do believe that’s a checkmate.”

Mon had turned his head at the sound of the door opening, allowing his dark brown eyes to scan over Lena, slowly twisting his head back to Lex, “Perhaps one day I’ll be finally able to best to, Your Majesty.”

“It’s a good thing we many years to see to that,” Lex smiled a rare smile, going to fix the chessboard, “Please; Mon, Sir Vyrwel, leave us. My sister and I need to have a conversation alone.”

“Of course, Your Majesty.” Mon rose from his chair and gave a short vow, twisting his smirk to Lena as he walked pass.

“I’ll be outside, Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness.” The Kingsworn offered a bow to both and retreated back into the hallway, closing the door behind him.

The doors shutting felt as if the air was being sucked out of the room. Lena tried to keep her breathing even, refusing still to meet Lex’s eye, instead glancing over the study.

“I thought we could play a game over our conversation. Just like how we did when we were young.” Lex smiled sweetly, a type of smile he reserved only for his sister and the privacy he had with her.

It had been Lionel that birthed such a love of chess in both of his children. When they were young, before such made changed in them; Lex and Lena could play for hours without stop, each crafting new moves to win over the other.

But even Lex had found ways to corrupt even this. Even a game, with small marble pieces and a wooden board.

“Yes, if that pleases you.” Lena said softly, edging forward to the now empty chair that Mon had taken.

Lena watched while Lex reset the board, her fingers digging painfully into the palm of her hand from underneath the table, “What is it you need to speak to me about?”

Lex did not answer right away, taking the seconds to carefully center each marble piece perfectly within each square they stood in. When it was finally done, he ran his hands over the edge of the desk and leaned back into his chair, “Your marriage.”

Lena didn’t know if the Old Gods were real, if they had ever been real but in that moment she prayed that they would listen to her, that Lex wouldn’t do as what he always promised to do and take her as his own.

The young King turned away from his sister and poured them each a glass of wine, unaware of Lena’s internal struggle, “I shall open, as the Kings right.” He placed the now filled glass next to her and motioned with his other to the board.

Lex wasted not a second, with no doubt in his moves. His fingers plucked the white pawn and dropped it perfectly square in the center of e4, smiling at Lena from over the rim of his wine glass.

Green eyes looked back down at the board, eyeing the black marble pieces and tried very hard to glance back up to Lex, seeing those same eyes bearing down on her, waiting for her to play the game like it was any other time. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her right hand up and grasped one of the white pawns, sliding it across the field to e5.

Again, Lex wasted not even a moment as he lifted his own white pawn and moved it to f4,

“King’s Gambit.”

“Accepted.” Lena said lowly, her eyes fixed on the board.

“I disagree with Father’s decision to go behind my back and the rest of the Family’s to arrange this marriage”, Lex spoke while Lena scanned the board, “Though I imagine you must hold some resentment for him forcing this upon you on his deathbed.”

The Princess’ eyes were focused down on the board. Her teeth peeking out to chew on her bottom lip only for a moment before sealing her lips again, realizing that Lex’s eyes were fixed upon her. Once more her fingers curled around another pawn and pushed it forward to take take the pawn on f4.

“Father offered me legitimacy and I couldn’t refuse him.” She said, moving the piece to her side.

“You are legitimate, no matter what any piece of paper says because you’re my sister.” He hissed out the last part, moving his white priest piece to c4.

Lena raised a dark brow at the aggressive opening, deciding to match it with her own. Moving her black queen forward to h4, the game quickly picking up in pace in the sudden moves, “Check.”

Lex’s lips curled into a smirk, “I forgot how much fun it is to play with you. Mon can never keep up.” The King lifted up the piece of his own title and slipped it over to f1.

“I will always be thankful that you never treated me like how others treat their bastard siblings.” Lena’s action came with only a few second delay, moving a black pawn to b5.

A dark brown brow raised at Lena’s move, moving his priest to take the newly moved pawn, creating the start of a line at the side of his desk, “It earn the anger of Mother more than once and you never did

reward

me for my kindness.”

A shiver rushed down Lena’s back, her face dropping back down at the board, “I...thank you, for defending me to her.” Her fingers trembled, moving a black knight to f6.

“But, sometimes I can’t even argue with her logic. And while I hate this agreement, we sometimes have to make deals with our enemies. A lesson that you will soon know far too well.” He spoke in a kind voice, explaining everything in such a simple detail. While he pushed forward a white marble knight to f3.

Seeing her queen threatened, Lena did not think twice of moving her piece back to h6, “Ah, please, go on.” She knew it was easier to let him do this, then trying to cut straight to the root.

The King’s palm plucked another pawn up and pushed it forward to d3, “The Crown is nearly free of it’s loans to both House El and the Vesia Bank. Both of which, are nearly the same thing, with Lord Kal’s marriage to the daughter of Prince Vespasian of Vesia, they have us outmaneuvered for the moment.”

Lena slide her knight forward to h5, sliding in front of her queen, “And denying them Father’s agreement could see them invest in those who would see you dethroned.”

“Precisely,” He paused for a few drawn out seconds until he moved his white knight to h4, “Or more simply use it as a pretense to create another rebellion. Only refreshing separatist ideals throughout the whole of Avalon.”

The Princess slipped her queen down and to the side to rest in the spot of g5. Leaving both Lex’s priest and knight open field of her queen. She had to wonder what Lillian had said to her son to create such a shift in him, “Am I to marry Lady Kara then?”

She tried to stop the sound of hope from raising up in her voice. If it meant leaving Londinium and not having to suffer under Lex’s every wish and command, she would agree to it, for her own sanity.

“Duke Jor has assured me that Lady Kara’s deformation can lead to heirs. A disgusting trait it appeared that is more common in Krayera within certain woman. I understand that the thought alone of marrying a woman is distressing. Let alone one with a man’s cock.” Lex, instead, moved his knight to f5 to block Lena’s Queen from moving.

Lena found her head going blank for several long seconds, having not thought of that part of the marriage at all yet. She knew that Kara

had one

but haven’t spared it much thought. Lena used the guise of selecting which piece to move on the board to give her time to think of an answer that would please Lex the most.

She had never really thought about

men

overall. Ever hiding from Lex’s attempts to slip his hand down her dress and the other he surrounded himself that had always stared at her neckline. She couldn’t refuse a certain, bubbling feeling in her stomach at the memory of Kara’s blue eyes and jawline.

She finally settled on moving her pawn to c6, “I have tried to not think about it.”

“Though with how styles her dress and hair, perhaps she wants to be a man instead. Would explain much, wouldn’t it?” Lex teased lightly. After a second of thought, Lex moved his white pawn forward to g4, putting pressure on Lena’s forgotten knight.

There’s the faint memory of Kara’s square shoulders in her tight tunic and the faint smell of spice tickling at her nose. She places her chin into the palm of her hand, focusing on the chessboard to hide how her cheeks redden ever so slightly at the thought.

Coming out of her daze, Lena repositioned her knight backwards, placing it at f6, “Even Sir Vyrwel has mentioned her sword skill.

Lex moved his castle over the smooth wood of the board and locked it into position on g1, “I dislike their traditions of such...

equality

. Do you know of the Isle of Themyscira on the southern edge of Krayera. Filled to the brim only with warrior women.”

Lena felt a shiver of pleasure when she moved her black pawn forwards to claim another one of Lex’s pieces, the forgotten priest on b5, “You’re usually not one to sacrifice pieces so easily.”

“For a total victory, sacrifices will have to be made.” Lex plucked up a white pawn and placed it back down onto h4, the same smile still on his face, the newly moved pawn now within striking distance of Lena’s Queen.

Lena focused back down onto the game and tried to ignore her own racing thoughts that had surfaced. She slipped her Queen backwards to g6, leaving it out of striking distance of Lex’s pawns, “I’m sure that Father would be pleased to hear that his lessons did some good.”

The man’s smile faltered for a moment, pushing the same pawn forward again to h5, closing the distance once more on Lena’s black queen, “I do enjoy delaying the inevitable, it makes the victory taste that much sweeter.”

Lena pushed her queen forward once more to g5, disallowing either pawn to take her piece. Taking the pause in the conversation to scan over the rest of the board after the bout of action.

“Mother has spoken some sense and I see now reason to delay your wedding, though I will not allow it to overshadow my own coronation. And with the whole of the Kingdom already here within the capitol, there’s no reason to delay it any longer.” Lex’s hands folded over the edge of the desk, having left the game of chess behind.

“I understand, Lex.”

The young King titled his head to the side, scanning up and down his sister’s face, “You are my sister, Lena. You are a Luthor, a member of this Household. Do not forget that.”

Lena's glad that she’s able to slip into the large dining hall without having been announced. Each and every House in the Kingdom were scattered across the hall, drinks in hands and voices gossiping from every little bit of information they could get their hands on.

Lex stood at the head of the table, looking pleased with himself as an array of nobles waited on him. The Princess only hoped that her few moments of fame were over and now all eyes would turn back to the yet to be crowned King.

Her eyes search in vain for Kara, a part of her hoping that the blonde haired knight would appear from the crowd as if knowing that Lena had appeared. Their conversation from the gardens still ring through Lena’s ears.

Before those thoughts could linger and explore, Lena’s privacy was broken by a lumbering male figure coming in front of her. Dressed in fine dark furs and a dark thick tunic holding a dark helm upon a grey field stitched in the center.

The man was easily 50 and them some. With his hair mostly going grey and reaching the tops of his shoulders. In his youth, Lord Rankor Erken rode into battle with a double headed axe which he could swing with the might of 5 men.

The Lord Rankor now looked tired from quiet decades of rule, leaving more a layer of fat where his muscles had once been.

His dark blue eyes swept over Lena, a hand reaching up to itch his short stubble, “Hm, interesting.” His tone was short and flat, an air of seriousness surrounding him.

“And what’s that, Lord Erken?” Lena said with a practiced smile.

“You don’t have another head. By the way people been talking about you, I thought you had grown three heads and breathed fire suddenly!” A hearty laugh came from Rankor’s chest, with a smile breaking out on his lips. Suddenly hidden when he lifted his tankard of ale up to swig from.

“I see your time away from Court hasn’t sharpened your manners.” Lena kept the smile on her lips, her corners twerking more into the shape of smirk. All the while a dark brow raised upon her head.

“I’m getting too old to care what pretty skirts and pretty Lowland lads think of me,” Rankor glanced over his shoulder as a few of the lose groups had heard the Northguard noble’s booming voice, “I was surprised to see you didn’t enter with the rest of your Family.”

“Lillian wished for me not to take away from Lex. I, for once, was more than glad to agree with her.”

“Hm, somethings never change here, do they?” Rankor snorted into his drink and glanced down,
missing how Lena’s smirk faltered the smallest bit.

“I like to think Lillian’s been quite in a good mood with all things considered.”

“Batty old witch. Never understood why Lionel agreed to the marriage.”

“As you have said

numerous

of times, in the middle of Court included, you needed her Father’s army.”

“Blah! We could’ve won against the Stoney Hill Houses without them!” Another boom of Rankor’s voice brought more eyes to the pair, causing the aging Lord to sip more from his tankard.

“Present company, I believe, would say otherwise.”

Rankor’s eyes peered around the ballroom, snorting as he turned back to the Princess, “Hmph, it’s hard to believe underneath all those bright fucking colors, they’re deadly soldiers.”

“High words of praise from you, my Lord.” A new male voice entered the otherwise private conversation.

Rankor’s upper body twisted, a smile breaking out over his lips, “Ah! The Hero of Riversfork himself!”

Sir Vyrwel stood nearly as tall as the towering Northern Lord. With hair fully white compared to the greying Rankor, the Kingsworn offered a polite smile to Lena first, “Your Royal Highness, I was sent to look for you. Your Brother was worried.”

“You can report that I’m in good company, Sir Vyrwel.” While the smile did in fact look real, Lena’s heart dropped in the pit of her stomach.

“He wished for me to keep an eye on you, Princess. If you prefer, I can give you privacy….”

“Nonsense, Arthur! Come, I was about to talk about the Battle of the Riversfork.” Rankor patted Arthur’s shoulder and then dropped his hand to rest over his belly.

Arthur shook his head, hands clasping behind his back and underneath his cloak, “A bloody battle, no place in an evening like this.”

“Father told me the story a dozen times, Sir Vyrwel.”

“I was only carrying out my oath as a Kingsworn, Princess.”

“By the Gods, I remember that day. The heat, the mud, the blood. Ha,” Rankor spoke on, taking another large swig of his ale, “Sir Vyrwel cut a bloody line to reach where the King’s banner had fallen. Slew, what was his name?”

“Sir Val El,” Arthur said in a low voice, “One of Duke Jor’s cousins.”

“Ah, the Little Dragon! He was one of the greatest swordsman that have walked Avalon!”

“He slew his way through half of the Kingsworn and Lionel’s retainers without flinching, I believe he’s more deserving of that jest.”

“He thought he could end the war with a single swing of his sword.”

“He nearly did.”

While the two men fell into a decades old argument, Lena’s eyes picked up a flash of crimson through the otherwise drab colors of the other groups. Green eyes scanned up and down the figure, tall body covered in a crimson tunic and black breeches.

Lena’s stomach flutters of its own accord at the sight of Kara making her way to her, trying to not look too excited at the sight of Lena. The Princess is able to feel her bethored’s pair of hot eyes dancing over her, lingering around the neckline displayed by the cut in her dress.

Lena’s fingers interlace in front of her body, pulling at her fingers when Kara finally comes to stop in front of her. A shy smile pulling on the corners of the knight’s lips, “Princess, I can see why you didn’t enter with the others, the Queen Mother wouldn’t want the attention drawn away from her and instead on your beauty.”

While Kara’s voice was choppy, Lena couldn’t help to match the blush that was mirrored on Kara’s cheeks. She couldn’t count how many times such comments had been thrown her way, and how many of them she batted away with a flutter of her eyelids.

Kara’s slight nervous twitch of her eyes didn’t help the flutter in Lena’s stomach. A unbashful smile pulled onto the corner of her lips, “We couldn’t have that, could we, Lord Rankor.”

The El finally seemed to realize there were others around them that wasn’t just the two of them. Her blonde head snapped to the side, meeting Rankor’s blank stare and Sir Arthur’s respectful smile.

Remembering her manners, Kara gave a short bow to the one of the leading northern Lords, “Lord Rankor, Sir Vyrwel, please apologize my manners.”

Rankor took a step closer to Kara, his large stomach hanging out in front of him. He leaned in close, studying Kara closely. To the El’s credit, she kept herself still and kept Rankor’s stare with an attempt at a polite smile.

“Do you think you could beat Sir Vyrwel in a duel?” Rankor blurted out, quickly sealing his lips around the rim of his ale once more.

“I believe, what Lord Rankor is saying, is that Lex aims to have a tourney to celebrate his coronation and wonders if you’ll be entering yourself.” Lena tried to explain, looking from Rankor and to Kara and then back to Rankor.

“I said what I said.” Rankor said simply.

“My Uncle has only spoken of the great skill of Sir Vyrwel, my Lord. Decades of experience that I do not simply have, it’ll be an honor to face him in the tourney, if I prove to go that far in the listings.”

“Hmph.” Rankor snorted, leaning back up from Kara’s personal space and back to the ale in his hand.

The blonde shifted her eyes away from the two men and back to Lena, “I..I had hoped to speak to you alone, Your Royal Highness, before the King spoke.”

Kara was being careful, Lean realized. Very careful not to give away the news before it was announced to the rest of the Court. She glanced in the direction of Rankor and Vyrwel but had found the two men had twisted to the side and were locked in their own private conversation.

“Of course, just outside in the hall.” Lena smiled, motioning for Kara to follow as she lead the way away from the ballroom.

The hallway still had bodies and prying eyes but it was far less intense than the room where every noble in the Kingdom could come upon them. Lena feels her body going stiff when she feels a very

warm

hand pressed to the small of her back. Kara was guiding her, pushing them to a little nook just at the end of the hallway, and out of sight from the others.

Lena watches Kara take a deep breath and exhale through her nose, “Sorry, I hate crowds.”

That brought Lena’s head tilted to the side and a black brow raised, “Crowds?”

“Too many packed bodies like that in such a small space. All those eyes and whispering voices. Does me in proper.” Kara mumbles, her head turning around the corner of the nook to make sure no one had followed after them.

There was only the silent figure of Sit Vyrwel that had followed Lena out of the room and took a steady position near the doors, with half an eyes trained on the nook. With her body turned with her head, she misses how Lena’s eyes soften for a moment, how her brows fumble together at the mere sight of the blonde.

“Does you in proper good?” Lena teased lightly at the sudden Common accent that appeared in the depth of the knight’s voice.

Kara’s blue eyes came dancing back, a natural grin pulling on those lips, “Right proper.”

Lena’s not able to help the small giggle and grin that comes up from the blonde’s lips. It’s infectious when Kara smiled, even having some effect on Lena.

It’s tuck in the small alcove that Lena allows her eyes to scan over Kara in detail, perhaps a guilty moment where there wasn’t prying eyes on them. Her green eyes trace over the strong cut of Kara’s jawline, the small flicker of a scar on her forehead, the slope of her neck that lead down to her broad shoulders.

“I...I know all of this has been very rushed and out of our control but I want you to know that I’m not hating this match. I’ll be faithful to you, no matter what the future brings.” Kara’s voice was quiet, her blue eyes finally having settled back onto Lena’s face.

That feeling was back in her stomach, a fluttering that was rising up from the pit of her stomach and up to her throat, leaving her feeling nearly dizzy with the uncertainty. They were getting married. She was going to spend the rest of her life with the woman standing in front of her. Run their Household, govern one of the largest cities within the Five Dukedoms.

“Ravenhold as business that needs to be seen to according to my Brother. I don’t know how long it’ll take.”

“I know. I’ve always wanted to see the North. The true North,” Kara took a small pause, as if picking her next words carefully, “And you were raised there. I would like to see your childhood home.”

“You would be safe.”

Her Father’s dying eyes came back to her so harshly and suddenly that she felt her stomach tightening into circles.

Did Lionel know what quality of woman Kara appeared to be? Was it truthfully an attempt to give his bastard daughter a chance at a good life?

Oh of all the things she would ask him if she had the chance.

Lena tried to keep her tears from boiling past her eyes, but it was a fruitless attempt. Her Father was gone and she was now alone in this world. She broke that sharp eye contact with Kara and tried to wipe away her tears with her fingers, “I..I..”

Whatever else she was going to say was stopped short when a very warm hand softly curled around her chin. Those long calloused fingers brought her face angled back up to Kara, those same fingers easily wiped away her tears.

Lena was drawn in closer, becoming shielded by the natural warmth that seemed to roll off of Kara. Her eyes shut sharply, feeling how those gentle fingertips traced over the curve of her cheekbone.

More tears wanted to fall freely from her eyes, no longer surprised when Kara tucked an arm around Lena’s waist and pulled her into her embrace. A soft ‘Shh’ coming from the blonde’s lips as a wave of tears rolled over Lena’s body.

Lena’s arms found Kara’s body, allowing herself to be hugged ever so tightly by the tall blonde.

“I can only imagine the pain you must feel and for it to be overshadowed by politics.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

“House El rose to frame when they landed on the southern shores of Avalon, 180 Years after Avalon’s Landing. Lead by Cir El the Golden Dragon, House El brought with them long standing Krayera traditions in both warfare and society. Claiming the disputed southern Lowlands as their own, they defeated both the Dukes of Westvale and the Tall Pines in open field. Then Head of the House, Lady Cir El bent the knee to King Owen Avalon, who named the El’s the Dukes of the Lowlands until the end of days.”

-Pocket Guide to Avalon

The swell of wine had its desired effect on Alex, allowing the sound of northern lords’ clenched teeth to fall to background noise. Replaced instead with the sound of sweet music coming from the number of live bands that played in the crowded room.

Her eyes tracked Kara and Lena out of the ballroom, snorting to herself from under her breath as they made it to the door. As Alex drowns the rest of her wine glass, she catches the eye of Alura from her spot next to Zor and Jor, a short twerk of her head and Alex knows what she wants.

House Danvers had always served House El. Her Father served Jor until the end, and Alex would be no different to her distant cousin.

Alex left the glass on a nearby platter and quickly tries to tuck through the crowd in the direction Kara had disappeared off to. But the room is far too packed for what it was intended for, and the redhead has some trouble getting through the little groups.

Her eyes are too busy trying to find where Kara had disappeared off to through the crowd. Her redhead only snaps back in time to feel her body colluding with another female body, sending the two stumbling forward.

Alex’s arms wrapped tightly around the woman in front of her, fitting easily around the snug waist to keep both of them from stumbling forward and onto the ground. The little groups of nobles around them mumble but swiftly turn back to their wine glasses.

The future Lady of Walden finally finds her footing and brings the pair to a stop. Realizing that she was pressing the woman into her, Alex quickly lets go and takes a long step backwards,“I’m sorry, my Lady, please…”

She felt her throat going dry at the pair of dark hazel eyes staring up at her. With a natural light tan and dark brown hair, she had strong Krayera blood running through her veins. In the span of mere seconds, Alex tries to scan her head for the other woman’s face, where she had seen it before, what House she held from.

“The apology is mine, my Lady.” Sam does a tight curtsy, quickly darting her eyes down to her feet at the feel of Alex’s eyes bearing down on her.

It’s then that Alex realizes who she was. She had barely caught a glimpse of her when they first arrived, standing closely to Lena during the funeral of King Lionel. She was dressed well, better than a handmaiden to the Crown Princess.

“I don’t believe I know your name, my Lady.” They find their eyes connected again when Sam rises up to her full height, leaving Alex to fill the silence that had fallen.

“Lady Samantha Arias.” Alex notices how well tight the smile is on the corners of Sam’s lips. Well practiced, as if Samantha spent every morning in front of the mirror forcing it onto her lips until her face hurt. The last name Arias tells Alex everything she needs to know.

Alex gives Sam a small, true smile, hoping to erase the tenseness that had appeared in Sam’s face, “I should be the one apologizing, I wasn’t looking where I was going. Too busy trying to find my cousin.”

Alex doesn’t know why, but her chest tightens every so slightly, when the corners of Sam’s lips relax, the smile looking far more natural, “You wouldn’t believe it, but the Princess can disappear into a crowd pretty fast.”

The chuckle that comes from Alex’s throat leaves Sam’s fingers curling in front of her body, trying very hard to ignore how her stomach bubbled at the tall redhead, “I was hoping to keep Kara out of trouble, disappearing with her betrothed was among the highest things to avoid this evening.”

“Maybe the evening can still be saved.” Sam teased, coming out so naturally that she has to blink twice once the words left her mouth.

Alex glanced around the pair again, some eyes did linger on them but most had turned back to their conversations once the scene of them running into each other had faded. It left Alex’s stomach relaxing the smallest bit, knowing that the noble’s attention was still on the soon to be King.

“Do you dance?” Alex was quick, turning her head back to Sam and searching for the other woman’s eyes.

A look of surprise runs across Sam’s face, though it’s quickly hidden by a tight smile that looks natural on her lips. She watches as Alex’s raises her hand up and offers it out to Sam, motioning with her chin for Sam to take it.

There’s a moment of hesitation and Alex sees it. Her heart beats up into her throat, tightening her stomach only relaxing when that smile comes back to Sam’s face and the woman takes the offered hand, “Only one dance.”

Alex and Sam attract some wandering eyes as the redhead leads them to the dance floor in the center of the room. The sound of harps, lutes, viols and psalterys filled the air, creating a merry tone that matched the atmosphere of the night.

The Danvers’ hand found Sam’s pinched waist easily and brought their bodies close together. The tone of the music shifted, as more of the Lowland nobility took the floor, matching the close and personal dancing style that was seen further south.

There was a surprising ease with their bodies. Fitting together as if they were intended to do so. Their height difference just the right amount. There’s a tickling at Alex’s nose, coming from the sweet smelling perfume that comes from Sam’s skin.

Sam’s hand stays curled tightly around Alex’s board shoulder, with her fingers sprayed over the soft material of her tunic. She lets herself be pulled in every carefully practiced move, “You dance well for someone as tall as you.”

“Are you saying I should be tripping over my feet at the sight of you?” Alex teased dryly, her arm pulling Sam closer to her.

Sam’s nose crinkles when she laughs, Alex realizes. It brought her lips pulled up in a single sided grin, “Isn’t that’s how it’s supposed to go? A tall dashing knight tripping over herself at the sight of a smile?”

The humor was obvious in Sam’s tone, leaving a grin to appear on Alex’s lips. It was easy to forget when she was looking in those brown eyes. Where hints of gold appeared from the shine of the candlelight, allowing them both to enjoy the closeness of their bodies and the tune of the music.

There was a nagging sensation in the back of Alex’s skull, a reminder that fell quieter and quieter with each passing second. She’s far too focused in Sam’s eyes, a certain pull that doesn’t fail to bring her in without much try.

Alex twirls the pair around, dragging the open palm of her hand over the curve of Sam’s spine, enjoying the look that appears in the woman’s darkening eyes. The smaller noblewoman steps closer, with a short low pitch coming from her throat, “It seems that the dashing knight has other things on her mind.”

That brings both of the women leaning into each other. Sam with hiding her giggle into Alex’s neck while the redhead chuckles out over Sam’s right ear, “You have a dangerous way of speaking.”

“Hm, I have been told that before.”

Sam’s eyes seemed to sparkle in the candlelight of the room. The smile looked real, a stolen moment away from prying cold hands of court life, where every move was questioned and analyzed, “I’m sure the same have said how improper it is.”

“Life is often miserable and short. Why not enjoy what you can out of it?”

A Danvers does their duty.

Before Alex could drown herself in her own memories, she felt a pair of hot hands running up the curve of her back, dragging upwards and rubbing small circles, “Do you often get lost in thought in the middle of dancing?”

Alex finds herself drawn to that grin, pulling herself back to the reality of the moment, “Trying not to trip over myself.”

The giggle that came forth Sam’s throat made Alex’s stomach tighten into knots, leaving her hands flexing around her the woman’s hips. The slight attention does not go unnoticed by Sam, who wasn’t afraid to run the palm of her hand downwards over the curve of Alex’s collarbone and chest.

Dangerous, hot hands.

The dance ends far too quickly for Alex, leaving the pair standing in the middle of the floor with their eyes still fixed together. The next tune begins and while the other pairs around them begin again, the two noblewomen are left standing. She wants to ask for another, it rests on the tip of her tongue, to pretend for a little while longer.

Alex finally disconnects their bodies, not missing how a low red blush had begun to appear on the bottom of Sam’s neck, creeping every so slowly up to her cheeks, “You dance well, my Lady. Perhaps you can save another for me later tonight.”

Sam’s feelings do the thinking for her, leaving her to give a small nod of her head, “Maybe, but I still haven’t gotten your name.”

As Alex opens her mouth to tell her, the redhead feels her blood going cold in her veins. Her brown eyes catching a face that she was not expecting to see this far north. A face that brought her from her moment of stupid happiness.

“Alex! I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Maggie

.

The dress the noblewoman wore was flattering to the woman’s natural beauty. Her copper skin, her dark brown waterfall curls, her large doe brown eyes. The cuts of the rich blue silk brought hints of that tanned skin that Alex knew far too well. She walks with a purpose, a flair to her hips because she knows Alex’s eyes are on her.

A small soft tanned hand runs up the curve of her chest and curls around her shoulders, leaving Alex to resist the urge to shudder. Then came those lips pressing a kiss to her cheek. But Alex’s eyes were fixed on Sam who looked on.

“Ah, and whose this, dear?” Maggie stayed pressed into the side of her betrothed, amber eyes running up and down Sam’s form.

A Danvers does their duty.

“Lady Samathana.”

“No last name?” Maggie smiled, glancing from Sam and to the side profile of Alex and then back to Sam, “Pardon my betrothed's manners.”

Sam’s brain seemed to finally switch on when she realized both Alex and the other woman was staring at her. The Arias’ swallowed down whatever she was feeling and shoved it down to the pit of her stomach. She
bowed tightly, “Samathana Arias, my Lady. I have the honor to serve the Crown Princess.”

The tightness Maggie’s smile takes is what Sam’s used to seeing at the mention of her last name. The noblewoman’s nose crinkles tightly, “Ah, Lady Arias. How is your Lord husband?”

“Maggie.”

Alex hisses slowly, her eyes flicking to her soon to be wife.

But Maggie’s smile stays so wonderfully perfect on her lips. Twin little dimples blessing her cheeks. She’s half turned into Alex, delicate hand placed onto the center of the woman’s chest. Sam’s eyes follow the silver and diamond encrusted bracelet that hangs from Maggie’s wrist, leaving her throat to bob.

“Well I assume, my Lady.” The smile on Sam’s face hurts so much that she tries to ignore the pain. She can feel the edges digging into her cheeks, how her fingers tighten in front of her body to keep herself steady.

“It’s such a shame he left damaged goods.” Maggie’s eyes ran up and down Sam’s form, before their eyes caught together.

“That’s enough. It was a pleasure, Lady Samantha.” Alex tugs her arm tightly around Maggie’s wasit and tugs them away, refusing to meet Sam’s eye as she tried to not make a scene.

“Surprised to see me, dear?” Maggie asks, a quirked brown brow gracing her features.

“I thought you were staying in Westvale.” Alex guides the pair through the crowd until they finally find a nook in the corner of the ballroom. The redhead drops her grasp around Maggie’s waist and runs a hand down her face, suddenly looking far too tired than she was only half an hour before.

“I will take that as a yes then.” Maggie’s smile finally drops, tapping the curve of Alex’s chin with her index finger.

“That..that was nothing. I ran into her and nearly spilled a drink over her. I was trying to be polite.” She’s easy with a quick lie. Her stomach still flumbles below her, the desire to shove her hand down there and tell her nerves to stop playing only grows louder. She turns her eyes away from Maggie’s face, searching for a wandering servent with a filled wine glass.

Anything was better than the twitching in her hand.

“She was certainly looking at you as if it was more than that.” Maggie teased lightly, running her finger down over the side of Alex’s chin followed the line of her jawline, digging the tipped point of her nails into Alex’s skin.

“She serves the Crown Princess. You can’t just…”

“Speak the truth? Does it give her the right to look at you like that? A promised woman?”

Her stomach finally settles, with a familiar sense of control coming back to her. Alex smiles at Maggie and leans over to press a gentle kiss to her slightly parted lips, drawing back after the mere brushing. The kiss seems to have settled Maggie, the
brunette
looking far more interested in having Alex’s lips back on hers.

“And would you blame her? So desperate for just a little moment of attention?” Alex draws back, knowing that Alura would already have her heard for the dance with Sam. She didn’t need to add to it by shoving her tongue down Maggie’s throat in the middle of the room.

“You do cut such a dashing figure in that tunic,” Alex feels her body go hot at how Maggie’s eyes rank over her with a certain purposefulness in them. Maggie turns her eyes away from her lover and out over the room, “Where’s Kara? I wanted to congratulate her.”

“

Oh shit.”

Lena finally gathered the courage to step away from Kara’s warm embrace. Dragging her nose across the wet spot she left on the woman’s tunic, she keeps her eyes fixed downwards, not able to meet Kara’s eyes after the little scene.

She wonders how it’s possible, but Lena could

feel

that Kara wants to say something. She could feel how tense the blonde was next to her. Lena finally chances to glance up, meeting those steely blue eyes.

Blonde brows were fumbled, tight together, looking at Lena as if she was trying to figure something out. That small scar on her brow looks as if it was going to burst open from
The Princess freezes again when Kara’s fingers whip away the stray tears, following the edge of her cheekbone with her fingertips until she withdrew her hand away.

“I’m afraid I’ve left a spot on your tunic.” Lena’s voice remains low, running a fingertip underneath her eyelids to make herself presentable.

“It’ll dry.” Kara says simply, keeping her eyes still leveled on the Princess’ face. A small smile twerks up on the corners of the blonde’s lips, showing hints of those white teeth. It comes too naturally to Kara, leaving Lena’s stomach to simmer.

Lena’s not able to help the giggle that comes from her lips, sounding so sweet after she spent the better part of the private conversation crying into Kara’s shoulder. Her hands reach out for Kara’s tunic, running her palm down over it to straighten out the small wrinkles.

“There. Much more presentable,” Lena forces a grin, running her palms down over Kara’s pecs as she tore her hands away again, “Wouldn’t want them to think we had any wayward adventures with a rose bush again.”

“I’m sure that will be the least of their gossip.” The grin on Kara’s face made Lena’s heart beat the smallest bit faster, reaching up into her throat.

Their eyes seem to stay locked together. Lena’s hand might’ve torn away but they were slowly finding themselves drawn back to the curve of Kara’s chest. The strong muscle that rose and lowered with each breath the blonde look.

Lena liked the different shades of blue Kara’s eyes made. The usual steely blue, a darker shade when tucked in the shadows like this, the brighter blue when the sun shined directly into them. They were comfortable, though staring into hers, they were not piercing, only holding her gaze with a look the Princess couldn’t place.

Is this what desire felt like? Lust? She knew how easy it would be to lean up, curl her hand around the back of Kara’s neck to bring those lips closer to hers. She wondered how they would feel, pressed to hers.

Lena could remember the last time she felt this

pull

to someone. The daughter of a visiting merchant from the City of Vespia. With short brown choppy locks and shockingly broad shoulders.

It all swirled in her head, wishing to tip over and spill out. It might’ve, it would’ve easy spilled out.

If it was not for Arthur’s voice speaking not that far away from them, making both of the women snap their heads in the direction of the Kingsworn, Lena wondered what the moment would’ve brought, “Both your absences would’ve been noted by now.”

Kara’s hands, which were hovering dangerously close to Lena’s body suddenly snap away. Reminded, silently, of the duties that await them. A small step backwards follows next with Kara attempting to clear her throat, “We best get back before someone makes a comment.”

“They’ll comment nevertheless.” Lena’s smile dims, not able to help the disappointment that rises at how Kara draws herself back.

“Who is he speaking to now?” Jor’s voice is low, his eyes glancing without purpose over the room. A glass of wine is pressed in his right hand, still his first and barely touched.

Zor was elsewhere in the room, speaking to some minor nobles from the Stoney Hills. It left the Duke of the Lowlands and the Lady of Riverfork stood next to each other. Alura’s dark curls and skin looked well in the rich crimson dress she wore. Tight and form fitting, the Lady of Riverfork looked beautiful in her own mature right.

“Archyr and Lar Gand.” Alura took a small, purposeful glance over the short distance to where Lex sat at a high table. Surrounded by his Kingsworn and selected members of his Court.

Jor followed Alura’s eyes and looked up to the table to see the three nobles locked in a hearty laugh. Lillian was not that far from her spot next to her son, sipping from a glass of wine and looked far too disattached from the conversation happening in front of her.

“She doesn’t seem pleased to see her Uncle.” Jor noted, looking away from the table before one of the table members could see his wandering stare.

Lar Gand was as Jor remembered him. Tall and broad shouldered. The stain of time hadn’t completely ruined him yet, while his hair was grayed, his body remained as the same towering man he was known for during the rebellion.

Alura watched with purposeful bored eyes as Lord Richard Archyr gave a hearty laugh and pounded his hand onto Lar Gand’s shoulder, forcing the Archyr’s fat rolls to jiggle from his laugh. The Lowland noble was entering his 70’s but still seemed to be able to put on weight as if he was a man 40 years younger. His head was nearly bald with only a few scraps of hair left to comb over his scalp.

“Now would be his chance to push for the Lord Chancellery to mentor Lex...”

“He’s walking to us now.” Jor hissed out the corner of his mouth, silencing Alura. Both set of eyes turned to watch the tall, lean Lar Gand cross the distance closer to the pair of nobles, leaving Richard Archyr alone with Lex.

“Jor,” Lar Gand gave a tight nod of his head and then swept his eyes over Alura, “Lady Alura.”

“Lar,” Jor returned the tight nod, his hand still lightly clasped around his barely touched wine glass, “The journey from Goldmond was fair?”

“Harsh early fall rains. Hopefully the King will forgive my absence from his Father’s funeral.”

“The young Prince seems to be of a forgiving nature. His Mother’s influence no doubt.” Alura smiled that perfect smile.

“He does appear to have my niece’s temperament,” Lar remarked dryly, sending a glance over his shoulder to where Lillian stood, watching the three nobles closely, “I hear congratulations are in order for your daughter, Lady Alura.”

“Hm, yes. We hope it’ll be a good match for Kara. And for the whole of the Kingdom. It is time for us all to put the war behind us and look to the future of the Duchies and our peoples.”

Lar smiled plainly at Alura, swirling his glass before reaching it upwards to his lips, speaking prior to sipping from the rim, “I have to wonder why Lionel kept her locked up in Ravenhold for all those years. Then suddenly bringing her to Court and now

this

.”

“Who am I to speak for our late King. Lionel was full of surprises, as we both know. She is still his daughter, and now a Princess.” Jor offers a smile the best he can, calloused fingers curled around his barely touched wine glass.

“Perhaps. Does her unknown mother not worry you?”

“I nearly expected that Lionel told you at some point.”

Lar snorted and shook his head, “It is a secret he took to the grave it seems. I doubt he told anyone the real truth.”

“I find the truth rarely matters in most cases. ”

“It is a shame that Geraint is not alive to see his grandson take his father’s throne.” Alura tuned back into the conversation, her eyes sweeping over to Lar. Jor sent a glance in the direction of Alura, hiding his face behind the rim of his wine glass as he took a sip of the contents.

There was a slight twitch on the corner of Lar’s eye, there only for a moment allowing Jor’s sharp stare to catch it. The Duke of Goldmond clicked his tongue from the roof of his mouth and nodded his head, “His hunting accident robbed us all of a man with so much life to live. Both Lionel and I grieved.”

“He would not wish for us to mourn the dead on a night such as this. To the health of the Kingdom.” Jor lifted his wine glass up barely in toast, his eyes glued to Lar.

The fellow Duke mimicked the man’s action and together, both took a sip, “To Avalon.”

The smell of wine hit Kara like a wave as soon as she stepped back into the crowded room. With Lena having entered some time before her, the room’s eyes were pulled upwards to where the members of the Royal Household sat at the head table, waiting for Lex’s announcements.

There was an excitement to the air, brought on by the amount of wine the nobility had to drink. Some brave nobility from the Lowlands mingled with the more approachable Northguard Lords, forgetting for a time that some decades previously, as younger men and women, they fought and killed each other in the name of peace.

Kara jumped out of her skin when a body was being pressed into her side, an arm looping through hers. Her heart did not relax when she saw the flowing red grown of her Mother and those sharp eyes bearing up at hers, “Ah, Kara. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“I stepped away.” Kara flashed a tight, toothless smile to Alura and allowed herself to be led on by her Mother.

“Hm, I noticed. And how is your wife to be?” Alura whispered lowly to Kara, but her face was outwards to the party, smiling and nodding to the groups of Lowland nobility that they passed.

“I’m uncertain. Nervous?” Kara knew it was better to tell her Mother the truth. Alura had a way of finding it out one way or another, “I’ve had barely two conversations with her.”

“And yet the Court makes it out as you’re star crossed lovers already. Is that not true?”

“The Court also makes her out as a witch that summons demons in the night. I think we both know that idle rumors are a waste of time.”

The mother and daughter duo stopped within the sea of nobility, where the idle chatter was the loudest, leaving Kara forced to lean closer to Alura to hear what she had said, “There is often a grain of truth in every mountain of salt. Your marriage to her will be the most important of your lifetime.”

Kara nodded slowly, “I understand.”

“You don’t. And you must quickly begin to see it.” The Lady of Riversfork nudged Kara’s attention upwards to the raised table, where Lex was standing, his arms stretching outwards.

“Attention, attention!” The sound of horns blasted through the hall, followed by the sharp yell of one of the many heralds, slowly bringing the room to attention.

On either side of the young King, was the two surviving members of the Luthor Household. Lena to his left and Lillian to his right. Sprayed out on either side of the Luthors were the former members of the King Lionel’s Council and other chosen members of the nobility that had long served the Royal Crown.

Lex’s right hand was tightly clasped around a bronze wine glass, his left was kept free, allowing him to curl it around the edge of the table to keep himself upright. A wide smile was plastered across his face as the room came to a sudden quiet, waiting upon his word.

“My Lords and Ladies; friends, allies and loyal vassals, we stand here united tonight by a single man. My Father, King Lionel. Whose ability on the battlefield, was only out matched by the ability of his quill. I have had the pleasure of this past week to speak to many of you, to hear stories of my Father in his youth. From trusted allies, old friends and even former enemies. And though he has returned to the soil of Avalon, his legacy will live on. King Lionel the Redeemer, a man and King who will be remembered through the wheel of time as the King who restored Avalon’s Kingdom. To Lionel! To the Dead!” Lex raised his wine glass upwards.

Though with glasses in hand, across the room copied Lex’s action, a chorus of “To Lionel! To the Dead!” rose throughout followed by hearty swigs of wine and ale.

“We have mourned the lost of a father, a friend and a King throughout this week. And on the morrow, his ashes shall be entombed in the Hall of Kings, as per his wishes. But now, we must look to the future and leave the past behind us….”

Lex was cut off by shouting in the crowd, “King Lexius! King Lexius!”

It brought a pleased half smirk to the young man’s lips. He raised his left hand, leaning forward into the table to bring the room to silence once more, “It is now time for celebration. Preparation have already begun on my coronation, for the duties of state can not be forsaken forever while we mourn. In two weeks time, I shall be crowned as Avalon’s rightful heir and successor to his Kingdom. But there is more to celebrate, for my Father’s last act as King, would see two of the greatest Houses within the Kingdom brought together as one. With the marriage of my darling sister, Princess Lena to Lady Kara El.”

There came a loud ringing of applause, with dozens around Kara and Alura turning in their direction. Kara couldn’t help but to release a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her eyes leaving the crowd and danced upwards to find Lena.

“For these grand events, I have decreed for a Great Tourney, to occur here within Londinium. All those who wish to prove their ability with lance, bow and lastly, sword, in front of myself and all of Avalon are free to enter. With the winner of the Tourney being gifted coin and the place next to me on the eve of my coronation.”

At the mention of tourney, the room erupted in a chorus of cheers and applause, thundering through the tightly packed walls.

“Please now, drink to your fill! Enjoy the night and each night to coming weeks. To Avalon!”

“To Avalon! To Avalon! To Avalon!”

Alex knows she’s had far too much to drink, her head is left clouded and heavy, but it still doesn’t drag away the sight of Sam’s eyes from her head. Nor how the woman’ body danced next to hers, how her skin would feel underneath her fingertips.

She tries to focus on Maggie, how her vision was being filled with a waterfall of curls. Maggie’s hands balled at the front of Alex’s tunic, pulling it up from where it was tucked into the woman’s pants,

“Alexxx…”

The redhead’s mouth stays firmly attached to the woman’s pulse point. She hides in Maggie, how the woman shudders against her, how her hands pull off her tunic and already goto the lacings of her pants.

Alex’s hands curl around Maggie’s fleshly ass and lifts her up over the arm of the couch, placing her down and spreading her legs to allow Alex to step inside. A moment later those sinful long legs are wrapped around her waist, locking her in.

Maggie’s eyes are hazy with pleasure, her hand cupping the outline of Alex’s cock from in between their bodies, “I need

you

and your beautiful cock, Alex.”

Alex can pretend like this. She knows every little move she needs to do to turn Maggie into this. Begging for her, begging for her attention, begging for her cock driving into her. Alex can hide in this, hide in the clashing of flesh. The primalness of their coupling sparked a worse reaction than any amount of wine.

A Danvers does their duty.

The knight’s rough hands push up the skirts of Maggie’s fine silk dress, running over the insides of her smooth tanned thighs while her mouth pressed hot open mouthed kisses up and down her neck, “You’re so wanton when you become like this.”

She wonders how Sam would whisper in her ear just like this. Alex’s hands on her as she made the noblewoman become undone with a few sinful honey words.

Alex growls in frustration, wanting to chase the thoughts of Sam away from her head. Her fingers find the thin lacy material of Maggie’s underwear and pushes it to the side. She tries to bring her head focused again, focused on the chant of curse words and purrs of pleasure from Maggie.

How Maggie’s hand clasps

tightly

over the outline of her cock when Alex flicks her little needy bundles of nerves with her fingertips, earning a desperate, “

Alex….please..”

“I want you.” Alex growls lowly, tearing her lips from Maggie’s neck to lick a hotline up over the slope of her shoulder. She feels Maggie’s shaky fingers tear and pull at the lacings, barely getting them undone before her hand is sneaking below the waist.

The straps of Maggie’s dress fall off over her shoulders, allowing Alex’s mouth more skin to suck and bite. The Westvale noble’s mouth is a string of soft curses and moans, her back arching suddenly when Alex’s mouth wraps tightly around one of her dusky colored nipples.

Alex’s back goes straight when that soft hand curled tightly around the base of her cock, plumping it expertly as Maggie dragged the waistband of her pants just down enough to get the pulsing length free.

Neither seemed to care that they’re still in their fine party clothes. Alex snaps the thin band of Maggie’s underwear and allows it to hang off the noblewoman’s thigh as her cock is guided towards Maggie’s needy center, “Spring is too long to wait. I want to marry you now, I want your seed inside of me.”

It’s a shame he left damaged goods.

The Danvers pushes her hips forward, pushing her thick head past the tight opening that Maggie’s lower lip form. She’s not able to resist the moan of pleasure that comes from her lips when she feels that

snugged warmth

wrapped so tightly around her cock.

Maggie’s legs shake at the brute penetration of her lover. She searches backwards, one hand clasping onto the back pillow the couch while the other grasps Alex’s shoulder, hanging on for life as she was impaled, “Yesss, like that, Alex. I need to feel you.”

Alex grunts when her base finally comes to rest inside of Maggie’s snug opening. She only gives the woman a moment of pause before she’s pulling out and slamming back in again. Her large hands curl tightly around Maggie’s waist, holding her still as she used the noblewoman.

Each thrust brought Sam’s face back into view, which only made Alex drive her cock harder into Maggie, needing to escape the view of the Arais’ gentle smile that made her stomach bubble. Unaware of how hard she was thrusting into her lover, with each roll of her hips bringing a loud clanging of wet skin.

This

was easier. Maggie’s wantonness, her desire to have Alex so roughly like this. They had been promised to each other since they were young, they

knew

each other. Jor had seen to the marriage as a reward for her Father’s service.

She’s making the couch rock from her the power in her hips, Maggie’s body drives back and then forward every time Alex’s cock moves in and out. She feels so

frustrated

, and Maggie is the perfect way to chase it out of her blood.

“By Rao, Alex!”

Maggie’s yell is loud and Alex knows the neighbors in the rooms left to right to her will be able to hear Maggie’s scream of pleasure.

Her balls feel so heavy below her, her thighs aching for a release, an end to this night and the thoughts that haunts her. Alex doesn’t care that Maggie’s nails are digging so hard into her shoulder that she’s drawing blood. It was something else to

focus on

.

It was just a stupid dance. Just one stupid dance and a few words. It was nothing.

Nothing

.

Alex’s hands grasp Maggie’s hips tightly, suddenly picking up the woman with her thick arms. The Sawyer quickly wraps her legs around the woman, finding herself held up in the air as Alex bounces Maggie up and down her cock.

Maggie’s becoming undone, her perfect curls sticking to her neck and face with sweat. The silk sticks to random spots on her body, it had been far too long since they had alone time like this. She can feel how hot her center is, how her stomach feels ready to burst with each new harsh thrust inside of her.

Long tanned fingers curl around Alex’s shoulders, holding onto tight as Alex walks them backwards to the edge of the bed, but Maggie’s legs keep tight around her betrothed's waist, keeping those thrusts fast, short and powerful, driving them both so closely to their climax.

“In me, please,

in me

.” Maggie’s head feels dizzy, being fucked so passionately by Alex. She wants to write to her Father and demand the wedding to be moved up or he’ll find that his sole child will be the source of elicit rumors.

Alex is lost to the clash of flesh. The feel of Maggie wrapped around her. The wet warmth that bends and hugs around her cock with each short thrust of her hips. She can feel the sex sweat staining her clothes, clinging to her flesh.

The short thrusts sent her thick cockhead angled up just the right way, sending shots of extreme pleasure rocking through Maggie’s body. She tilts her head to the side and bites down on the sheets to drown out the moans from her climax.

Alex’s cock in drenched in Maggie’s release, the slickness adding to the mess they’re making over the redhead’s bed. But Alex doesn’t stop. She hangs above Maggie, her large hands finding Maggie’s and pins them down tightly, blasting her hips forward and backwards.

Maggie’s eyes are stuck somewhere between half shut and open, being fucked so thoroughly through her climax, she tries to rock her hips up and down to meet the thrusting, but she only finds that Alex slams her down with each roll.

A burst of hot air comes from Alex’s throat when she snaps up suddenly, tearing her cock from Maggie’s opening and aims her cock down over the woman’s stomach. She takes her hand from where it keep Maggie’s pinned and strokes herself harshly.

Large spurts of white seed covered the sweat stained silk dress, now added with her own release. She’s forced to use her free hand to keep her up and steady, the rock from the climax leaving her bones like jelly.

They hang like that, allowing Alex’s seed to dry on Maggie’s dress while the smaller woman runs her hand up and down Alex’s back, “Hmm, my mighty Alex.”

The Danvers takes a deep breath to steady herself, her still hard cock bouncing as she unclasps her hand from it. Using the edge of the bed, she whips her hand and runs it up over the side of Maggie’s body, “Again?”

“In the bed this time.” Maggie nodded her head, reaching her lips up to press them to Alex while her hands got to work undressing them.

After the second round, the pair lay there pressed naked to each other. With Maggie’s brown head resting over Alex’s chest, already locked in sleep. The swell of the wine is finally lessen and the whatever pleasure she found in Maggie is gone, replaced only with her thoughts.

But Alex lays awake, staring up at the ceiling with a low heavy sigh coming from her lips.

It was only a dance.

Lena always had a wonderlust for the Ellington Woods. There was something about them that called to her, even in her young age. The tall trees told a history of the island itself, their roots interwoven into the earth, forever watchful over the inhabitants of the ancient island.

The morning air was cold, nipping at her fur lined cloak and thick wool dress. The King’s escort was small, the purple cloaked Sir Arthur and a chosen handful of Household guards were the only company to the Royal duo.

It was not often that Lionel made the long journey to Ravenhold to see his only daughter, but the times he did, Lena never left his side. Hanging onto every word that left the lips of the man.

They walked side by side, with Lionel’s large hand curled around Lena’s slender shoulder, guiding the pair over the forest floor. Behind them, by several feet, were the rest of the escort, giving the King a wide berth.

“There’s no woods like these near Londinium. I’ve missed the North.” Lionel explained, stopping the pair as he his eyes looked upwards to the thick and tall pines above them.

“Oskar doesn’t like me out here often.” Lena mumbled loudly enough for Lionel to hear.

The aged King looked down to Lena, raising a bushy eyebrow at the young girl, “And would you let a 13 year old girl run free through the woods unguarded?”

“I do it anyways.” Lena’s green eyes caught her Father’s, with a slight smirk coming to her lips.

Lionel chuckled and patted Lena’s shoulder, bringing her into his embrace, “And that is why you’re my daughter. We’re children of this Island, and these woods. Our blood is tied to these pines.”

Lena nodded her head slowly, soaking up each and every word carefully. Her teeth appeared, chewing down on her bottom lip. When she did not respond, Lionel’s eyes wandered back down, away from the forest, and to his sole daughter.

“What is on your mind. You’re quiet.”

“I’ve been having dreams.”

That seemed to peek Lionel’s attention. The King bent down to a knee, his eyes scanning over Lena’s shoulder to where the escort stood, well out of earshot range. He signaled to Arthur to keep them back while his hands came to curl around Lena’s shoulders, forcing their eyes to lock, “Dreams? We all dream, Lena.”

There was no back down now that she had let it go from her lips. Lionel’s reaction was curious to her young mind. Did Oskar already write to Lionel about her sleepless nights?

“No, it’s different. Oskar doesn’t believe me. But they’re vivid. As if I am there. I can feel everything, smell everything. Almost as if it’s happening in front of me, in real time.”

“Hm. And what do you see?”

“Scenes. Like if I am viewing someone else’s life. They’re not like regular dreams. There’s always a woman.” Lena finished with a light whisper, wishing she could look away from Lionel’s eyes, “I...I think it’s my Mother. I feel as if I have seen the face before.”

Lionel’s features soften. The tightness in his lips easing, and for a moment, his age appeared. A heavy sigh racks from his chest, releasing a deep forgotten memory. His right hand left Lena’s shoulder and curled around her neck, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead, “There have been many things I have regretted, Lena. But my love for your Mother and you are not one of them. One day I will tell you about her, when the time is right. Until then, you must know how much she loves you. And how much I do. But I doubt that the woman you see in your dreams is her.”

Lena’s green eyes screwed shut tightly, trying to hold back the wetness that wants to fly free

from them. She keeps herself still, not wishing to cry upon Lionel’s tunic and cloak, “Th...then what do they mean? What do I dream?”

Lionel kept her eyes on his daughter’s face, dropping his hands back to her shoulders, “I want you to write, every morning, of what you dream of. Names, places, anything and everything, Lena. And I will try to find someone to help us both make sense of this.”

The young girl nodded her head, reaching up to dry her eyes the best she could, “Yes, okay. I will. I’ll write to you about them every week.”

“Good, let’s go rejoin the others. We still have a good day of riding ahead of us before we reach Ebonfall.”