Josephine I

The chariot rattled trough every pebbled it went over, even the smallest imperfections on the road could be felt clearly. Although it had been outfitted with silky soft feather cushions, the wooden cage where Josephine was being transported had not been a pleasant stay. The only source of amusement she could enjoy apart from reading, was glancing through the thin wooden slits that she had for windows. It was sort of nice, though, being out of the keep after a long time, see the outside, the bustling roads and the roaming peasants working their fields entertained her mind more than any court gossip or buffoon could. But alas, she was all alone in that carriage. Her mother had stayed at the capital with her sister, and her brother and father were leading the escort in horseback.

They had left the capital of Dachaig as soon as word of lord Lumor's passing reached it. It was one of the rare instances where a semblance of emotion took over his father, other than when he indulges himself in copious amounts of fine eastern wine. Nostalgia proved to be as strong a liquor as any other, and learning of the death of one of his dearest comrades had plunged him into a trip of the good old days. It also served as a convenient excuse to skip the next council hearing, which he left in the capable hands of his beloved wife.

Josephine wondered why he had bothered to bring her along. He was not a man to make decisions on a whim, no matter how emotional he got. Maybe he wanted to show her off to the other lords, in order to get her a proper match? The thought made her quiver, to be sold off like cattle to the one that was deemed best for her, but as her mother had already drilled into her head, that was her duty as princess of the realm. She quickly shrugged it off, as it was of no use to bother about the inevitable, no matter how persistent the dread she felt was.

The carriage suddenly came to a halt, all the horses could be heard stalling their steps in unison over the damp dirt road. She peeked through the window to try to see what was going on. The only thing she saw was three members of the royal guard on top her horses, all staring rigidly forward. They all wore shiny fully plated sets of armour, with crimson surcoats sporting the heraldry of her house, a black bull's head. She picked out the silhouette of Sir Wilford Roux, the captain of the household guard, among the riders.

“Why did we stop Sir Will?” she shouted. The knight seemed to snap out of a trance like state as soon as he heard her voice. He proceeded to slowly direct his horse to the carriage, to the point that she could see his grey beard from under his helmet.

“Please lower your tone, my lady, your father is speaking with the gate guards” he murmured.

“Oh, it seems we already arrived then”

“That is right young lady, and as soon as we dismount, you'll be able to leave that cursed cage”

“That is among my utmost priorities right now”

“I can only imagine, but I must implore that you sit down again, we are about to enter through the main gate”

Josephine complied and went back to her seat, but still tried to make out what was happening outside the window. The whole collum started moving, the carriage followed shortly after. It didn't take too long to pass the rocky frame of the wall's gate, after which all that she could see was the green fields that surrounded the castle of White Peak. She managed to catch a glance of it when the cart made a right turn to begin its ascend of the hill.

The home of house Einn was as impressive as it was ancient. The castle rested atop a grassy hill surrounded by an outer wall where sentries scanned the surroundings for possible raiders or outlaws. The fortress itself contained four watchtowers in each corner and a fifth one in the middle of the keep. The central tower seemed so impossibly high that if you were to be sitting at its cusp, you could probably see far past the white cliffs that laid to the west into the ever-expanding waters. She wondered how they had managed to build such an impressive fortress that far north.

The lands were incredibly windy, and it was cloudy most of the year, that day not being the exception. Not a single ray of sunlight penetrated the thick grey clouds that quietly moved through the sky. It appeared as if the weather itself was mourning the death of the Duke of the Highfalls.

They had finally reached the keep. She was barely able to make out the giant wooden door that lay before them through the narrow window slit. She heard the distinct noise of horses suddenly halting atop the wet path, after which most of the royal guard started dismounting. The gates started to open as so did the doors of her carriage. She took a hold of her crimson red dress and gently lowered herself to the wet ground. She lifted her head and scanned her surroundings. The dark brown gate stood before her, with a couple of guards standing right in front, they were wearing the distinct white and red garments associated with house Einn.

Slightly to the left, both her father and brother had already dismounted and where already making their way to the feet of the stairs. She advanced and stood right beside them, sir Roux and the rest of the guard followed trough. Her brother stood tall to her left, with his face partially covered by his dark brown cloak that was slightly wet by the morning dew.

He pulled back his hood, uncovering his short light brown hair. He lowered her face slightly and aimed to her ear.

“You look lovely this morning Jos, perhaps it would be wise of you to wear something for the cold, the morning air has little mercy on the lungs” he muttered.

“Thats rich coming from you, spending all this journey atop your horse. I have been yearning for a breath of fresh air since we left the inn”.

“At least you didn't have to cope with all of fathers rambling, you know how he gets when he spends more time riding than drinking” he scoffed.

“Both of you will shut it this instant” her father commanded.

The two of them turned dead silent, the glee of the face of her brother escaped as soon as their father interjected in their exchange.

“We have come here to mourn, not to stroll. Perhaps it would have been wiser of me to leave you both with your mother and to take your baby sister with me, at least the damn child knows when to hold her words” he continued.

“A child would also know to receive her guest when they are standing at their door, specially so when it's the king of the realm we are talking about” She declared while looking impatiently at the door.

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“Give the poor boys a break, their father just passed” said her brother.

“Must I remind you that lord Gonniel isn't necessarily a boy, he's almost a decade older than you. Although, taking your maturity into account that's not saying much...” Josepine retaliated.

Their father glanced coldly at them, after which they finally silenced themselves and stared back at the gate in anticipation.

But as if someone inside the keep had heard her complaints, the doors finally began to open.

Out of them came a small host lead by the young lord Sammuel Einn. The boy had a slender frame, thinner than her brothers at least, and he was at least half a head shorter. His hair was short and bright red, which contrasted with his pale skin and bright green eyes. He was dressed in a dark brown tunic with a red vest with a gilded fox head in the centre, while also sporting a white cloak filled with golden details that trailed behind his every step. To his right followed a tall knight dressed in full plate with a checkered red and white surcoat, a red cloak covered his right shoulder. To his left, an old short man struggled to keep up with the host. Judging by his long robes, Josepine assumed he was one of the scholars tasked with advising the young lord. They stopped to a halt in front of them.

Sir Roux stepped forward and shouted:

“You stand before your majesty, Bruce the third of house Laso, Duke of Blackwater Moat, King of the Torrach Steppe, the Colliregh and the realm of Ralithien” then he knelt.

The royal guard and the small host followed through, leaving only the siblings and the king standing.

“You may rise” her father softly uttered, after which everybody stood.

” Young Sammuel, we rode here as soon as I heard of your father's passing, you and your family have my deepest condolences”.

“You are most kind my king, I thank you and the princes for troubling yourselves to come here” the young lord responded, his voice a gentle whisper.

"It was no trouble at all, your father served me and the realm well, I'll take the moments I shared with him to my grave, that I swear upon the lord”.

“He always spoke warmly about you, your grace”

“I remember the war as if it were yesterday, when those barbarians dared to cross the Evenissian and defile our land with their pagan army. I thank the lord every day for having out your father at my side, for I fear without him my head would have rolled and Ralithien would lay in shambles”

Josepine wasn't even born when the Astrilumian empire last invaded. Her brother had told her that their father had just assumed the throne when they attacked. He was called Bruce the bold, due to the way he rallied the lords to his cause, and by how he led the kingdom's army at just 17 years of age against the more experienced Emperor Solymar. Although his vigour and might had contributed greatly to winning the war, it was the council of older lords such as Lumor Einn that had helped the young king to tame his impulses and lead his people to victory. But those great men were dying, slowly but surely, and their successors like her brother had not seen true war in 3 decades. They were all cocky and self-assured, living off the success of their fathers, but the truth was that most would faint like a damsel at the slight sight of blood.

The old man suddenly stepped forward to interrupt their exchange.

“I regret to stop your welcome my king, but the other lords have been waiting for your arrival since yesterday, it would be wise if we proceeded with the ceremony as soon as possible”

“Thank you, Argus. I'm afraid he is right my lord, we should not delay this event any longer, my brother is already waiting at the east gate with the rest of the host” Sammuel said.

“Then let's make haste, we don't want to keep them waiting any longer” her father responded after taking a step forward.

“I'll show you the way my king”.

They all proceeded to move in the direction to the gate almost in unison, while the guard trailed behind them.

With the outside bailey now behind them, Josephine took her time to look around the great hall they had entered. Its dark wood finish was adorned with various paintings and the preserved heads of red foxes, the latter of which represented both the Einn's heraldry as well as the northern woodland Gods. It baffled her how they were able to exhibit symbols of their pagan religion publicly, even after her ancestors had declared the Illuvian faith as the kingdom's sole belief.

“How are they allowed to mock us in this manner, the mere presence of those beast heads undermines the rule of our father, more than any rebellion or foreign threat could” She whispered to her brother

“My dear sister, you have to understand that our forebearers had to make certain compromises to ensure the inclusion of the former northern kingdoms into ours” He stated condescendingly. “As long as they don't publicly undermine the authority of the church, they can pray to whatever dismembered head they please as far as I care”

The little care her brother expressed didn't surprise her, he rarely troubled his mind with the kingdom's affairs. Although he knew the history of the realm better than anyone she knew, he prefers to waste his time with perfecting his swordsmanship and woodcarving than on politics. Their exchanged had catched the attention of young Sammuel, who lowered his pace a little to match theirs

“Enjoying the decor, my princess?” He softly uttered

“Yes...quite indeed” She tried to dissimulate

“Forgive my sister, she just a little dizzy from the rocking of her carriage” Her brother interjected

“Worry not, I had not meant to trouble you both, it's just that rarely do visitors take interest in my family's heritage. It's understandable though, our customs are less conservative than most”

“Quite the turnoff, for the more traditional minded at least. I personally find northern culture fascinating" Her brother continued.

“I'm glad you do prince Degon, I could take you on a hunt through the forest afterwards if you wished, as well as the princess”

“I'll sadly have to decline my lord, as unlike my brother, I'm not too fond of the wilderness” she said while snapping out of her own thoughts.

She was impressed by the gall of her host, offering to take her rummaging through those muddy forests searching for some bushmeat. The thought was thrilling though, but as her mother always stated, she was one of the symbols of the realm, so her image must remain pure and very much “ladylike”.

“Forgive me for my ignorance my lady, I'm sure there still are some activities in this old stone hut that you would find very pleasing” Samuel said while shrugging.

“Don't feel bad for the princess, I'm sure the tailors can lend her some yarn to knit herself out of her boredom” Her brother smugly interjected, drawing a subtle smirk on the young lord's face.

Their conversation was interrupted by the distant sound of chatter. They had already arrived at the other side of the castle and were now standing before the gates that led to the Hirradeg, the ceremonial grounds where the funeral was going to take place.

“Are they all already outside Sammuel?” Her father finally broke his silence.

“Indeed, my lord. We will head to the Root Crypts as soon as we step outside”

“Allright then, lead the way”

Outside those gates awaited a good portion of the kingdom's nobility. Just thinking of all their fake self-interested smiles made her want to accept Sammuel's offer and run off to the wilderness. She was barely sixteen years of age, but she had already grown bitter by all the customs and procedures she had to memorize. At this pace she will grow to be just like her mother, joyless, lifeless, but most importantly, a “proper” woman of royalty. She hated being reminded of her status, every “princess” or “my lady” felt like small needles stabbing at her brooding heart, and lately it was becoming truly unbearable. She felt like a boiling pot of water, ready to burst at any moment. That thought scared her, but deep inside she longed for the moment where she could truly drop the facade and let out all the anger that she felt.

But as the doors began to open, she knew that all those feelings had to be buried.