I re-emerged into reality from the confines of sorrow. It was dark outside, and silent to the point that every choked breath sounded like a shout.

I sat up, if only to move my muscles. I knew I should sleep and I had no difficulty closing my eyes, but my mind was occupied with other thoughts. My emotional exhaustion was keeping me up so I tried to use the first moment of sobriety I'd had to consider my new reality.

Timoth was now the ruling Count of Ebonreach. I was second or third in line for the throne, depending on whether Kaeya was still alive. Timoth would take Father's position commanding soldiers, proscribing laws, and passing judgement on criminal and civil disputes. I realised that he had done many of those things already; Father had prepared him well.

I was closer to Timoth than I had been to Father, or at least Timoth viewed me almost as an equal. I could help him make decisions about the future of Ebonreach. I could be of use to him, and not just as the potential marriage asset I’d accepted as my role to date. I could be a sort of advisor.

The thought of marriage made me uneasy. How would this change things with Alum? Would I still be able to marry him? Could I leave the Reach in this time of crisis? Would Timoth ask me to marry Wilbern in order to secure his troops and finances? I thought not, but I began to brace myself for a change in Timoth's attitudes. Just as we had come to blows in the Dreadwood Forest when times had been desperate, I feared that we would no longer see eye to eye now that he was at the head of my House.

Embattled rays of scarlet light slowly took hold of the enshadowed horizon through the window. I knew that Timoth would soon beckon me to saddle my pony. My eyes were no doubt framed by deep, dark bags. I feared that my skin was so wrinkled from crying that I would look an old lady to the folk of Trackford.

It was this thought that seized me. My chests had been carried in at some point in the night, and I threw them open with muscles weak from fatigue. The first thing I saw was my family portrait. I felt the tears ebb freshly at the edges of my eyelids, but my ducts were too depleted for the threat to be serious. I summoned a portal and carried the portrait inside. The warm breeze within was refreshing, but I dared not linger for fear that I might decide not to return to reality. I simply deposited the portrait in my portal, and then returned to my chests.

I withdrew my paints, perfumes, and mirror, placing them carefully around me. Finally, I seized the aquamarine dress that I'd worn during my previous stay in Trackford. I'd won the hearts of many of the common folk by showing charity to a beggar while wearing it. The gaps in its sides I had thought to be risqué, but today I relished the thought of outwardly displaying confidence - even if my insides were melting as wax from a candle.

I did not stow my riding outfit in the chest, for I knew that I would need it once we’d cleared Trackford. The dress was just to give me something to hold on to while people were watching. I would show them that I was strong, and by association so too was the Reach. That thought would, in turn, make me strong. With enough belief, the fantasy would become reality, or so I hoped.

One look at the mirror told me that there was nought that I could do to conceal that I'd been crying. The redness was too just prevalent and deep-set. I shaped it as best I could to lessen the effect, hid the wrinkles that had set in overnight, and lightened the symptoms of my sleeplessness. I wore boots with heels and loose straps rather than my flat riding shoes.

Timoth knocked on the door as I resealed my cases. I pulled it open and his features spread wide in surprise at my unexpected appearance. Presently, it expanded in scope as he saw that I looked my part as a Countess, rather than dark and withdrawn as a widow.

'Saemara…' he murmured.

'Timoth,' I responded in kind.

'You don't have to-' he began, but I cut him off.

'This is how I want to be seen,' I told him. 'I shan't ever leave Trackford unless I can stand tall for the onlookers. I don’t want to be seen as a crying child. This journey was meant to herald my coming of age ceremony, after all.'

'If it is your wish,' Timoth said graciously. 'Would you lead us?'

My eyes widened at the proposal. Timoth was the eldest, and a man at that. It had always been his place to lead, especially now that he had inherited the Reach. His request was overly beneficent, but it served my purpose so I did not protest. The confidence that my appearance spoke of, even if false, would be all the more believable when viewed at the head of our party.

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'Our party has been reduced once more, sister. I can request no escort for I fear that the raiders who plunder Trent will return. Our only companion will be a civilian carriage master. When we reach Haelling Cove I will order many of the soldiers to Trackford.'

My first thought was that Haelling Cove was more important, and its defences had already been reduced by the removal of King Degron's men many months earlier. My second thought was again one of shame: Timoth had been planning the defence of the realm during the night while I’d wept like a helpless child. I would have to do better than that if I wanted to be Timoth's advisor.

As such I spoke on my first reaction, 'Is not Haelling Cove a more important, and more defensible location?'

Timoth shook his head. 'I have thought on this much during the night. Trackford was always wealthier than Haelling Cove and it is as yet unplundered. The Reach will be served better by the defence of this city than having more archers upon the walls of the castle. A direct assault on the castle is unlikely: there’s little wealth to be gained that way, and it carries much risk.'

'Can we even be certain that the Western Islanders come seeking wealth? The scale of their attack is unprecedented.’

'We still have the last leg of our journey ahead of us. We shall discuss this then. I will welcome your advice, Saemara, but for now, we need to get moving. I'll send some servants up to carry your chests to the carriage,' Timoth said.

'Have them stow my riding outfit in Lilac's saddlebags. I'll change into it once we're out of sight of the city,' I told him, and he nodded in acknowledgement. I spent a few moments straightening my dress and my hair while Timoth gave orders to the servants, before returning to me.

'Are you ready?' he asked me, and the mere suggestion that I might not be threatened to release the building river of tears that I had only temporarily dammed. I controlled myself as best I could. Timoth's presence helped, yet I dared not speak, for fear that even a single word would be the spark that lit the walls of my self-control ablaze.

I forced a nod. Timoth seemed hesitant, but when nothing followed my gesture he decided to proceed. He led me out of the inn, and I was astonished to see that a substantial crowd had formed outside of The Flea Monkey. Their expectant eyes turned to Timoth and myself upon our appearance and all conversation died. I was afraid that the shock would rend the tears from my eyes but as I had hoped, the onlookers gave me strength. Timoth stepped forward to address them.

'The Reach has been attacked!' he began, shocking me with his sudden loudness. 'Haelling Cove burns! The Countess and I will travel now to do what we can. I will send men to defend Trackford, for I believe that the raiders will attack the city on their return journey. I ask you to prepare this city for the assault. Raise the militia! Build a palisade at the docks! Set a watch up and the river! Stow kindling aboard fishing boats and fire them when the longboats approach! String your bows and take to the rooftops! Do not let yourselves become victims. I know you are much more than that.'

It was a good speech, both motivating and instructive. It gave people something to occupy themselves with, something that might even be useful. I was proud of my brother. I felt confident that he would rule well no matter what circumstances faced him.

Yet this was not a new feeling for me, for I’d always had faith in Timoth. It was myself whom I found fault with, and I was forced to confront my inner turmoil as the crowd turned their gaze to me. My eye-catching dress caused me to stand out and now they expected me to say something. I swallowed nervously, and decided that a few words would serve better than many. If they were well-chosen.

'My father is dead. My mother too. Your Count and Countess. I look to the future. The Reach will continue. You will continue. With or without Halivaara.'

My words were met with silence and I feared that the people had disliked them or expected more. Then the crowd began to clap. There were few cheers due to the sombreness of the occasion, but the people nevertheless gave thanks to their new rulers for their words of encouragement.

I walked with Timoth to the stables, where the stablemaster led Lilac out. 'No charge, my lord and lady,' he said, bowing his head slightly.

I was astonished. Part of the crowd had followed us through the city. I began to realise how different people could be in the face of adversity. A swelling of patriotic pride swept through me, and for a moment I could forget the deaths of my parents.

The carriage appeared with an unfamiliar man driving it. He was dressed in respectable silk and leather clothing, and I hoped that we would not be attacked on the road. Timoth's decision to travel unescorted was risky, but I knew he feared that the attack on Trackford would fall before men could arrive from Haelling Cove and would do nothing to reduce the city's defences.

I mounted Lilac sidesaddle as is expected of a lady wearing a dress. It was a maneouvre I had not practised since my childhood etiquette and horseriding lessons, but those lessons had been thorough and they paid off. I realised that Timothwas waiting for me to start us on our journey. I was to lead us out of Trackford, as we had previously discussed.

I kicked Lilac forward as best I could with my legs both on the same side and she responded with vigour. We trotted onto the road leading west, out of Trackford, and Timoth and the carriage trailed behind me. I took us at a slow pace so that it would not appear as though we were fleeing the city, and when the crowd began to disappear into the distance I raised my non-rein hand into the air and waved at them. Some of them waved back until they were obscured by the winter fog.