He took her into his bed.

She expected it to be done for the first time in a bed on the King’s Hoverstone, but Gern Jorbert had her wait until they reached Redforest Castle, had her wait though there was no anticipation. Only dread. He was twice her age and in need of heirs. She was in need of more.

But in between their vows and the marriage bed, she’d experienced two cogs moving along with their wheels, one of which was named Miro, who tried to keep Jorbert--Talwu, not her husband--away from her. He was always there, a nervous smile, jowls dangling, blinking and nodding and smelling like dusty cheese. But for whatever his reasoning, his job was done well. She spoke twice to Talwu Jorbert, once saying only goodbye.

The other cog was a man named Syrio, who was servant to the King. Though he never said much. He seemed overly distracted. And he always scratched at what she assumed to be an ich deep in his ear.

And before both, she’d been witness to Khara from Frostfight Castle, a hoverstone far to the north. She was beautiful, other-worldly, and when she froze so much of the Great Hall, people’s mouths dropped open as they stared. Lilian couldn’t help but stare, too, and later laugh at how much melted water the servants had to clear away before they started their nuptials the next day. She was very glad that wasn’t her job.

But for as long as she’d waited for the ceremony and then for as short as the ceremony was, it felt too soon before she was under the sheets with an old man on top of her who would not smile nor look her in the eye. He did his duty, rolled off her, slipped into a well-pressed robe and strode out of his chambers. It wasn’t long before she realized he’d stepped out so that she could dress and retire to her own bed. He did not want to sleep next to her. He wanted to sleep alone.

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She cried softly as she pulled her own robe over her breasts and padded barefoot across the hard stone floor. She opened the door to her lonely bed chamber and leaned back against it once it was closed. She covered a hand over her mouth, caught a sob. A dull throb ached between her legs. Is this all womanhood is? Just a thing to which a man owes his duty? Telli had vaugely outlined what living there might be like. She hadn’t believed the reality of it. Not until that night.

Khara. Now there was a magnificent woman. She walked with her nose high and her chin leveled and she did not fear the men afore her. Lilian wondered what it was like, not to be moved around like a pawn, but to direct them, to own them, to be Queen. For that is no doubt what Khara was. Queen. You could see it plainly in the way she walked through the Great Hall, never mind the magic tricks. King Norman sat on his thrown to receive her and in the end he seemed more eager to be received than recognized as her better. Would Khara really do it? Would she try to be Queen? She wondered if the Ice Woman knew she inspired hope as well as fear.

You could tell her, she thought. You could tell her yourself. Write a letter, send a boat. Let her read of your admiration.

But that was too forward. She was Lilian Jorbert now, Lady of Redforest Castle. She had reached a proper station in life (so she was told) and had a duty to perform fit to that station (again, so she was told). Khara was not exactly an enemy of Redforest, but then again, she was not a friend, and Lilian did not think Lord Gern Jorbert cared one way or another for semantics. He would call her foe no matter the situation. And if she was his Foe, Lilian was her foe, too.

But...before she knew what she was doing, she was at a desk across her room, dipping quill into ink, drawing black scribbles across parchment scrolls. She would write one letter. Just one. And she would ask what having magic was like and then, in closing, ask if it was very easy to learn.