ELSA
Kesper kicked up a small torrent of water as he chased down a grey flock of birds with the unusual fierceness of a bloodhound. He was typically a tame enough dog, the Vangaurd’s own, a gift for both Elsa and her brother from their parents on their twelfth labour day.
But his restlessness was not unfounded. Since her lord uncle had returned with her father three nights ago the canine had not left his side till now. ‘He must scent he’s an Astarre.’ Leo believed, given her uncle had only met Kesper a handful of times. ‘Hounds are clever like that.’
Elsa had not spent much time thinking it over, instead her thoughts had been occupied by the discussions that hung in every corner of the keep. From squires, to ladies, to the treefellers. They all spoke about her uncle’s fate. Rumours of madness, revenge, even treason. Elsa knew not what was truth and what was mere gossip, she was not privy to the large council of big Lords and little Lords alike that had now gathered in the Vanguard.
“How could it not bug you?” Elsa asked of her brother who sat with his bare feet soaking in the lake’s water.
Leo shrugged. “I’d rather be out here than in there. It’s quieter.”
Elsa did not feel the same. But still she turned her focus away from the three Vanguard towers that loomed beyond the treetops and towards the lakeside. As reluctant as she was there was still a sweetness to Lake Emerald she could not deny, a crispness to the water reflecting the blue sky above. Nearby a father taught his son to cast fish with little success. The entire waterside was lined with ashen trees of vibrant orange leaves burning across the horizon. This lake was as much a part of her childhood memories for her as the Vanguard itself, she spent her summers here, it was where her parents taught her to swim, which she took to better than Leo. It was their solitude.
And yet Elsa was restless too. She knew her father and mother needed help, she could see it in their sleepless eyes and their sunken faces. She would do what was needed of her. She was certainly never good at doing less. But so far less is what's been asked of her.
Leo leaped to his feet clapping his hands enthusiastically. Kesper sprinted as hard as he could manage across the waterbed towards Leo’s arms. He stopped in a huff and Leo fell to his knees wrestling with the canine. Leo always had a way to seem more carefree than Elsa. Mayhaps it was the certainty of being Lord of Vanguard one day. Or mayhaps it was just who he was, Elsa could not tell the difference.
“Do you think father would execute uncle?” Elsa asked.
“Gods Elsa…” Leo didn’t look up from his play fighting with Kesper. “Never.”
Leo was either clairvoyant or choosing not to think too hard on the question but either way Elsa found some comfort in his certainty.
She fetched a stick from their bundle and waved it in front of Kesper. His eyes locked on her stick and she flung it only a few feet into the water. Kesper dove in after the thing with full spirits regardless.
“Careful sister, you’ll wake a slumbering serpent with such a savage throw.” Leo cracked wise.
“As will you if you don’t watch your manners.” Elsa returned but they both smiled. This was the most relaxed they had the luxury of being for a while. But just as they seemed to mellow the sun began to lower.
It was Sir Ansel Dubh who made the call. “Lord Leondre. Lady Elsa. It shall be dusk soon. Shall we retire before then?” It wasn't really a question. And the two did not argue.
Leo whistled for Kesper and they followed back to their waiting horses. Sir Ansel led the way through the trees.
He is far too accomplished for such a task as to stand sentry, Elsa thought, given he is one of the most respected knights in all the Forelands. At age twenty and five he led a company of hopeful squires and hedge knights against the Stonehaven bandits and rooted them out in an uphill campaign deep in the Carrainhills considered unwinnable. Afterward he was knighted by her Lord Father but forwent the tourney life of jousting knights instead joining the sailors in the Bay of Mist in the endless fight against pirates for a distinguished decade. He still carried a black seasword at his hip.
He returned to land only a few years ago when he was offered the position of Head of the Pathfinders, a massive honour for a lowborn knight. Elsa had always assumed it was because he couldn’t be offered a more dignified position such as the tower of Her Sorrow and its titles, given to highborn knights as they age.
Sir Ansel had been assigned to Elsa and her brother for their recess and had remained respectfully removed, although he was known to be quieter than your average gallant knight. Leo unsurprisingly was fond of him but he enjoyed the company of anyone who spoke less than him.
Elsa had her own soft spot for the Sir. There was something of his square-jawed presence that reminded her of the stories her mother would read to them when they were younger. Like of Sir Rylee the Daft who feigned insobriety in order to disarm a band of twelve skin-flayers long enough to single handedly defeat them all. Or Sir Podge the Unlikely whose heroics bards now sing songs for. But Elsa reminded herself as her lady mother oft did, those were simply tales and in real life true knights are more scarred than sacred. Elsa wondered what scars Sir Ansel had.
Elsa climbed on to her mare and they returned back to Vanguard. They galloped their way along the dirt path. One thing Elsa and her brother had always been gifted at was horse riding. Their mother would say both of them took to riding before walking.
The wind in her hair, the speed at their backs, Kester nearly flying off the ground as he kept up. Atop her horse she was as quick as any knight.
They raced at that speed until they reached the outer wall of the bustling settlement inside the Vanguard’s keep walls. It was teeming with squires and servants who found mead and fresh food to dine on while they waited gods know how long for their lords and ladies. The keep had not been equipped for the sudden flood of what seemed like the entirety of the Forelands. Taverns packed rooms with up to six a lodging and Master Selmond put a temporary allowance on the stockpiled grain and wheat to feed them all. All the smaller lanes flooded with hungry stomachs and loud talkers and through the wide open doors of Redstone Way Elsa could spot the meat hall crammed with flesh of both the living and dead.
They passed by quietly enough down a cobbled street until a red-faced man barreled towards them. “My lord and lady, good greetings to you.” His spoiled shirt hung loose from his pants, his beard wet from spilled drink. With a flagon of beer held in one hand his other was outstretched to shake, but it was out of reach for Elsa or her brother to reach from their horse. Besides, a handshake seemed far too familiar for a stranger.
For a moment Elsa and her brother went unsure how to politely deal with the drunken man. “Father, don’t make a fool of yourself.” A younger man of fit body followed behind. “Lord and Lady Astarre, please excuse my Lord Father.”
That man’s a lord?
“Oh lighten, Calex. The little ones surely can’t be as sullen as their father.” The fat lord laughed.
“That’s enough, father.” The younger man nodded as he yanked his father away. “Pardon us.”
“That’s Lord Irren Rant and his son.” Sir Ansel stated. “Your Lord Father dismissed him earlier in the morn for his demeanor.” And with that Sir Ansel beaconed them onward.
It wasn’t long until they were stopped again. This time it was a Lord Elsa recognised; Lord Tyster Edwin of Westport, an old house and once hugely influential, Westport now no longer had the trade it once did and has been overshadowed with the surge of Sunken Shore and flourishing peace time trade to the east across the Grand Anchorage. Lord Edwin was still a proud lord and requested that Elsa’s brother go with him to meet his allegedly beautiful and witty daughter. Leo seemed uninterested but could not refuse the good lord. He left with him after Sir Ansel gave a nod of approval. Undoubtedly Leo will be kind to the Lord’s daughter and leave her to yearn over the meeting he would soon forget.
Sir Ansel escorted Elsa the rest of the way down the pavestone path of High Street, the longest road of the city. They passed the homes of locals and traders who attempted to flog handmade trinkets from their doorways and past the Ironworks teeming with soldiers watching Neely the blacksmith and his famed melding techniques.
Finally they crossed the bridge and arrived at the Great Housegate of the Vanguard, the intimidating grey wall’s stretching high over you as you approached the three towers. Great big banners of the Astarre’s crest flew in the wind and in silhouettes above the impression of archers if you knew where to look like Elsa did.
As Elsa and Sir Ansel strolled beneath the Gatehouse they found a small hackneyed boy whining to the guards, whose number had been reinforced to eleven since Elsa’s departure this morning.
“We can’t let no one inside. What with all our prestigious guests.” One of the guards told the boy. He wasn’t being cruel but he had little time or patience to deal with him.
“But, but.” The boy replied. “I need to give o’er this loaf. If I could just talk to Tomman.”
The boy tried to get out full sentences but a second guard interrupted. “We told you, the cook’s as hard-pressed as the rest of us. He ain’t got time to chatter.”
As Elsa rode closer she came to recognise the boy in his flour covered clothes; he was a baker’s boy. Elsa had seen him on the occasion when she would spend time in the kitchens. The cook Tomman was a gentle soul and enjoyed having someone to explain his recipes to. Elsa wasn’t much of a cook but she liked learning all the same.
In his hands Elsa spots a loaf of Cinnabread, sprinkled with pumpkin seed. It was a special order her Lady Mother made once a fortnight, the only piece of food on the dinner table not prepared in the Vanguard kitchens. Only the baker knew how to prepare the pumpkins right, or so her mother said, like how they did in the back home in Overbrim where the vegetable is plentiful.
Elsa came to a stop, and dutifully so did Sir Ansel. “Sir Eason.” Elsa called out before the guards speaking to baker’s boy had the chance to notice her. The longstanding knight of the gate, Sir Eason, emerged nearly from a shadow and came forward from behind the line of guard’s now shrinking at seeing Elsa.
“My lady.” He said simply with a bow of the head. He was a lanky tall figure who had always made Elsa feel both reassured and uneasy with his beady dark eyes.
“Sir Eason. You know this is the baker’s boy, why not let him through?” Elsa asked.
“Strictest orders from your Lord Father and Master Nickle. Not a soul to be let through who is unannounced. A pragmatic precaution, my lady.” He answered. “He is late. The cook expected him an hour ago.”
Elsa knew better than to cause a fuss for a baker’s boy but the stress carried heavy on his face as he looked at her. “Please, m’lady. The visiting patrons slowed my duties. My father will be upset if I don’t deliver your mother’s request.”
The boy was on the brink of tears. “Stress not, you can tell your father you’ve done your task. I’ll see it to the cook myself. And I’ll let my mother know how hard you worked for it.”
“Thanks, m’lady.” The boy nodded approaching to pass the loaf up to Elsa.
“I best make haste to help clean up shop. Gods willing, we’ll have another full day tomorrow.”
Elsa bowed expecting the boy to dash away at that but he just stood there meekily.
It was Sir Eason who spoke up to Elsa. “My lady, the boy requires custom. He can’t return bare handed.”
Elsa was embarrassed at such a mistake but she had no coin on her, she never did.
“Lady Elsa.” Sir Ansel called behind her. Elsa turned to see his gloved hand outstretched with a silver punt, the image of King Florian the Wise on the front and the image of the Astarre hawk on the other.
Elsa took the coin and handed it to the boy. He clutched the coin between his hands, thanked Elsa once more and ran off again. Sir Eason ordered the guards part way and Elsa made her way inside into the Vanguard courtyard.
Sir Ansel hopped down off his horse with ease and moved to Elsa’s side to offer her a hand down.
“Thank you, Sir Ansel.” Elsa said. “May I ask, why does a knight like yourself carry coin on a simple ride?”
“A habit I learned when dealing with pirates, my lady. I found most would rather barter than kill. So I always have something worth bartering for.” Sir Ansel said.
“But there aren't any pirates in Vanguard.” Elsa said as two stable boys hurried up to lead their horses away.
“No my lady, there aren’t. But one must always be ready to strike a bargain.” Sir Ansel answered. “Do let me know if you or your brother seek fresh air again tomorrow.” And with a bow of his head he dismissed himself to return to his Pathfinder duties.
Elsa turned to double check her horse had been taken care of. As she looked around the courtyard lay quiet. They must still be in council, Elsa concluded, they were for most of the day. The grounds had been torn asunder by the huge volume of recent days. The castle walls that surrounded her were old, dating back to before the realm was one. But the Vanguard never felt old to Elsa and it was more than just a fresh coat of whitewash that kept its stone fresh. The corridors were always brimming with familiar attendants and guards, the gardens attracted woodpeckers and smaller insects, and the commotion beyond was always in the background even when unheard.
Elsa’s peace in the courtyard was interrupted by the brash sound of a galloping horse. Sir Eason shouted and all the guards made way as a lone dark horse thundered into the courtyard. On top was a black cloaked woman Elsa did not recognize but assumed to be another Lady of some small house who had arrived to deliver her enlightened council and tell her father exactly what to do. She had stark black hair that was as long as it was wild with pale skin and icy blue eyes.
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Elsa reckoned an edge to her as she smiled from the adrenaline of her horse’s speed as she called it to a sudden halt. Elsa looked around but saw no waiting party to greet her. She must be late or unannounced, Elsa assumed, deciding it would be right for her to greet the lady.
Approaching carefully as the lady threw herself off her horse Elsa introduced herself. “Dear lady, good day to you. On behalf of my Lord Father I thank you for coming. I trust you had a good ride?”
“Bloody awful. I forgot how the rain stings in these parts when the western winds blow in.” The lady replied not even looking at Elsa, focused instead on unholstering her horse herself.
Elsa searched for the proper words. “It is nearing storm season. I apologise for the poor weather. ”
“Why girl? Did you shake the clouds to make them pour?” The lady questioned with a harshness that made Elsa go quiet. The lady looked around at the courtyard. “Have you no stable boys, my mare needs water.”
“Sorry, they shouldn’t be long. They were just seeing to my horse.” Elsa replied.
That made the lady turn and properly look at Elsa. “You ride?”
“I do. Since I was young actually. I’m not as good as my father yet.” Elsa admitted.
“Ah, your father’s no good at riding. Too afraid of the horses. His balls shrink at the sight of them.” The lady said, making herself chuckle.
Elsa’s stomach dropped at her insults. She had heard such vulgar words, but not about her Lord Father. This lady is no lady, Elsa thought.
“What’s her name? Your horse, that is.” the woman asked.
“What good’s a name for a horse?” Elsa said growing weary of her company.
“Would you trust a knight without a name? Or a ship? The same goes for a horse.” The lady stroked the mane of her horse. Elsa inspected the beast before her, built with strong muscles and a long stare enough to make her want to back away. Especially if this is her owner. “This one’s called Damsel.” The lady said.
“Why is she called that?” An ill-fitting name, thought Elsa, you wouldn’t even know it was a female by the sight of it.
“Because there is nothing I enjoy more than the face of some errant knight when he is out-ridden by not one woman but two. A word of advice, even as a Queen sits the throne this is a man’s realm. They will always underestimate you. Let them. It makes it all the sweeter when you raise your dagger and stab their hearts and leave them drowning in their blood. Even as you watch them shit themselves they’ll still think they’re you’re better but by then it doesn’t really matter, does it?”
Elsa froze at the lady’s words. A wry smile was on her lips but Elsa could not tell if it was a joke.
“Raven!” A voice called out. They both turned to see Lord Kester approaching. Elsa was relieved to see him. “A righteous man prays and lives a simple life and this is how the gods repay him?” He said with a grin.
“If you are a righteous man then it really has been too long.” The lady returned. The two embraced like old war mates more than an acquainted lord and lady. “Are you truly not pleased to see me, Ennis?”
“Things are hectic enough.” Lord Kester said as they broke apart. “Alas, Allard will be glad to see you. Even if he doesn’t say as much.”
“Likewise.” The lady said.
Lord Kester caught his high spirits and turned to Elsa. “Lady Elsa, I hope you ignore every word she utters.”
“Would it truly be so awful if I rubbed off on her a little?” The lady asked in feigned innocence.
“Elsa’s a wiser girl than to end up like her aunt.” Kester said. My aunt? Kiann’s mother, Maeve Astarre? The one they call Raven?
Raven eyed Elsa with a cheeky glint. “Don’t call me aunt.” She tells both of them. “Makes me sound archaic.” Then Raven puts a hand on Ennis and leads them away. “What of Leondre? Is it true?” She says with the first hint of authenticity to her voice.
But by then their conversion grew too far away to overhear as they entered the caste. Elsa was left to reconcile with this so-called aunt of hers. In the end she agreed with Ennis, this must be some sort of cruel joke by the gods.
By the time Elsa had recovered from her encounter night had fallen and the cold forced her inside the castle walls. She made her way to the kitchen and delivered the loaf to the cook.
“Did you make that!?” Tomman queried, wiping his sweating brow. “No, right, sorry. Thank you, my lady. It’s all a bit. Well…”
The kitchen never seemed busier. Cooks, serving boys and kitchen wenches squeezed past one another to get to their duties. The pantries were hung with birds and beasts, mainly rabbit, blackbirds, and two boars that must have been collected from a hunt that morning. Many knights and young Lords went out each morning so far the past few days, a brief reprieve for the rest left behind.
“I understand.” Elsa said to the cook. “Let us hope things calm down soon.”
“Oh! Have they made a decision?” Tomman asked. Suddenly Elsa felt aware of the many ears in the room. “Pardon me, my mistake m’Lady. Now off with you, a working kitchen is no place for a lady.” He said playfully scooting her away.
It seemed nowhere was the place for her over the past few days. She made her way upstairs back onto the main corridors of the castle. As she did, the noise was oddly similar to the hustle and bustle of the kitchen downstairs.
“I heard his tongue is forked in two. Like a pair of snakes.” She heard a voice on the other side of the door atop the stairs. “That his wife got him into some sort of perverse occult that Yin aristocrats run in the capital.”
“Careful, the proud Hawks might hear ya.” Another voice hushed forcefully. “Besides someone needs to show the royal shites they can’t do whatever they want.”
“Off to war with ya so. First let’s check on our Lord, make sure he hasn’t snuck off to the brothel again.” He sniggered as their feet disappeared in the distance.
Exactly what sort have we invited into our home?
Elsa waited a breath before opening the door and stepping into the corridor. With gentle nods she made her way past ladies and knights that filled every few feet in increasing numbers as she stepped towards the great hall.
She walked out on the main foyer with the great hall’s enormous, intricate oak doors crowning the end. An impassable row of Pathfinders stood in front of it ensuring it stayed sealed to the outside world.
Elsa was going to turn away when two familiar chatterers caught her eye. Tressa Murchu was a maid attendant to Elsa. She was a kind, if simple girl who Elsa felt she looked after more than looked after her. She was eagerly talking to another girl of a very different kind. A disinterested Lady Ashlin Sewn, the eldest daughter of Lord Sewn from the Sunken Shore, was every figure a lady from a house on the rise.
Aislin’s searching eye caught Elsa leaving her no choice but to approach.
“Elsa, good to see.” Ashlin turned away from Tressa with enthusiasm and grabbed Elsa’s hands in embrace.
“Lady Ashlin. Lady Tressa.” Elsa greeted both of them. "How are we?"
“I was just waiting to go in and talk to my brother." Lady Ashlin answered. "But you know the men. Once the blood starts rushing, they just don’t stop. Lucky me, Tressa here hasn’t let a dull moment pass.” Tressa smiled ear to ear unaware of the slight.
“Yes, Lady Tressa is my lady-in-waiting.” Elsa informed her, gently freeing her hands.
“I have heard. That’s very endearing of you.” She said with exaggerated eyes only Elsa could see. “My father has made so many acquaintances across the Great Anchorage, I near a dozen ladies-in-waiting of such wonderful families. But it does get tiring from time to time. My brother jokes that when we are all together the jewellery is blinding.” Ashlin laughed softly. Tressa joined in. “Fortunate I suppose, copper doesn’t have that problem.” She japed, referring to the copper necklace and rings Tressa bore. All she could afford.
“Could you excuse us, Ashlin?" Elsa smiled. "With all that’s gone on, myself and Tressa haven’t had a chance to spend nearly enough time together.”
Aislin smirked with a tilt of her head. “Of course, don’t let me stop you. I must see to my brother anyway.”
Elsa nodded and led Tressa away down a less busy hallway.
“Elsa, I could squeal.” Tressa said with a skip in her step. “Did you see me talking with Lady Swen? She is so eloquent.”
“Tressa, she was being churlish to you.” Elsa sighed.
“Oh Elsa, her dry wit is well known. Besides, did you see how many people saw me with her?” Tressa then spun clutching her hands. “And that dress! The day I can afford such finery Elsa, just you wait.”
“My breath is held. But you should be more considerate to yourself.”
“You know me Elsa, chance presents itself and I take it.” Tressa said earnestly enough that Elsa smiled. “Silly me, talking about myself. How are you? I can’t imagine the stress, the concern, the tortured nights. Tell me everything!”
“I’d rather not recount this ordeal in excruciating detail until I know where it is headed.”
"My mother says it is war.” Tressa said, leaning in closely.
“Does she now?” Elsa said, pulling the pair of them onto a balcony over-looking the courtyard. The clash of sparing knights trying to prove something drowned their speech out.
“Yes. After she heard about your uncle she visited the soothsayer by the old ore caves.”
“Tressa, she does not have the coin to spend on such trifle.”
“I do tell her that.” Tressa grimaced as blood was drawn below.
Elsa tried to stop herself. “Well. What did she say?”
“That the winds of animus and discord will over power the strong wings of our land.” Tressa said, suddenly self-serious. “And that we should get another hen, not a cat.”
“Insightful. Likely she knows more than we do. We’re stuck out here with the murmurers.” Below jeers flew out, as what looked to Elsa as a dirty trick, brought a big knight to his rear. It was then her eyes spotted her lord father’s close companion Ennis again crossing their way with Raven.
“I think it’s more exciting out here. A better view as well.” Tressa said as she rested herself upon the banister.
“I’ll leave it to you then, you might find your hen. I need a break from the rumouring.” Elsa said and took her leave.
Looking back down the hallway she sees the Pathfinders parting to let Raven and Ennis into the Great Hall.
Elsa turned away from prying eyes and found her way to a staircase. She headed up three flights of stairs until she found a door dusty enough she doubted it was ever used. She gently opened it, careful of any creaking noise.
The instant thrum of a crowd met her ears as she pressed forward. It was less a room she stepped into and more a tight, poorly lit corridor with a wall of wooden beams slanted inward on one side. She pressed forward following the distant racket. In the near distance a light grew bright. It seemed the rabble did too until it grew too loud.
“Silence!” A loud voice bellowed. “There will be silence!”
As Elsa wrapped herself around a corner the room in front of her opened up more than she could imagine. She was in the roof of the great hall.
Elsa steadied herself on a wooden beam as she peered down on the great hall through the rafters. The grand room somehow looked bigger from above Endless tables filled with Lords, their closest knights or counselors. A couple of Ladies were even present as well. Widows, Elsa surmised from the ones she knew the faces of.
At the top table her lord father and lady mother sat together, raised above all others. She had sat on that very table during feasts and ceremonies. But on this night it was stocked with advisors, knights, and strategists.
Lord Breathen was the only person on the plinth who was standing. “We expect silence when Lords are making their contribution. Now, Lord Cartaigh."
“Thank you, my Lord.” Lord Cartaigh said gently, clearing his throat. “As I was saying, the eagerness, by some, to ignore… nay defy, the express wish of her Grace, does worry my clan.”
“Your clan are craven!” A stray voice lobbied.
Jeers, groans and chuckles erupted.
“Enough!” Allard rose to his feet in a thunderous road that sucked the air from the room. Elsa had never heard her father speak so sternly. “The next brave heckler will find their sons on the next ship to the Bay of Mist." He reprimanded to the entire room. "Lord Cartaigh, your concerns have been heard.” Allard collapsed back into his seat, whispering to Ennis as he joined the high table.
Lord Breathen spoke to the quietened room and called for the next speaker. “Lady Fairtree!”
Her name was called to some supportive cheers. Her husband passed last year, Elsa remembered. He lived to eighty and three. Outlived all his children.
The old Lady Fairtree moved to speak using an ornate cane to find her footing. “There was a time, a few decades ago, when the late Lord Evanader sat in that high seat. It was winter. But by no means cold. Though what I consider cold, and what may cause some of you pups to have shriveled balls may vary.” This went on for some time.
Elsa was doing her best to listen to her frail but captivating voice. But she was distracted by the sound of not so hushed giggles nearby. At first she thought some errand knight forgot himself. But the sound was much closer than that.
She stood up carefully, just as fearful that she might make a noise as she was afraid to fall. As she crept around the raptors she came across too chuckling figures.
Leo and Kiann.
“Sister.” Leo merrily greeted her, a little too loudly.
Kiann smirked. “There’s my favourite cousin.”
“What are you doing up here?” She questioned moving closer to them.
“Could ask you the same thing.” Leo returned.
“No, I mean what are you doing up here without me? I never knew about this place.” Elsa asked, trying to hide the injury as best she could.
“Do not blame Leo, it was my doing. But no insult was meant cousin, sincerely.” Kiann assured her. “Your father simply had enough of the drunkards below and relieved me of my cup-bearing duties when I happened upon Leo and well you know how he is after time spent with highborn ladies. So I offered him a drink and a show.”
As Kiann said it Elsa noticed the cups by their sides as well as bottles of wine, empty and full.
“You’re drunk?” Elsa queried the rosy cheeked Leo.
Kiann intercepted. “He’s not drunk, he’s only drank a little." He turned to Leo. "Tell her you’re not drunk.”
“I’m drunk.” Leo declared.
“Trinity save me.” Elsa swore.
“This is a disgrace!” A loud man echoed beneath.
Elsa spun back to the hall. “What did I miss?”
“Oh nothing.” Kiann waved. “That’s Lord Raey, he says that every ten sentences.”
Leo then said in his best impression. “Is this wine imported from Sol’Ra?”
“This is a disgrace.” Leo and Kiann both answered in unison.
Elsa gave up. She turned back around, took a bottle and sat down next to the pair trying to hide their giggles.
“I met Ashlin Sewn earlier.” Elsa told the two.
“Delightful as always?” Kiann said.
“Why is she even here?” Leo asked.
“Better than sending just her brother.” Elsa answered “I suppose Lord Sewn is too busy adding gold to his coffers.”
“At least they sent someone. Unlike the Sentinel.” Kiann commented.
Elsa took a drink while Lord Raey continued emptying his lungs. “Did you see her?” She asked Kiann.
“A mile away.” He responded sullenly.
Leo's eyebrow peaked. “See who?”
“Raven.” Elsa answered.
“Raven? Your Raven!?” Leo repeated. “She’s here? Where?”
“Hush.” Kiann insisted. “In the far corner, dressed blacker than night.”
Leo crawled unsurely on all fours to get a view.
“I didn’t recognise her.” Elsa said.
“You wouldn’t. You were barely talking last time she was here.” Kiann said.
Leo crawled backwards, wide-eyed. “Feck. Does dad know she’s here?”
“Ennis does.” Elsa answered. She could tell Kiann would rather not talk further on the topic. She suspected even Leo in his state could tell as they fell quiet.
“This is a disgrace!” Lord Raey erupted.
The trio huddled together as they fought to suppress their laughter. They spent the night drinking, laughing and whispering about the eventful scenes that had come to their home.