Meanwhile, Lyra was back in Hjor. Harold returned to the keep and began rebuilding his town. The border secure, Lyra helped Fenrin restore their forces and Bryn even showed himself a few times but—to some's surprise—seemed content with his children's work.

"He's not been the same," Fenrin whispered to Lyra as their father shouldered a pack and left into the woods once more with no word to anyone.

Lyra cleaned her nail with the tip of a dagger. "I'm not complaining."

Fenrin pulled the door shut, booting Lyra from where she leaned on the doorway. She shot him an annoyed glance but he wasn’t looking at her, his brows furrowed. Lyra sighed and grabbed her brother's arm dragging him into Bryn's office and away from prying ears and eyes.

She jumped onto the large desk, picking absently at the papers. "What's wrong?"

Her brother frowned. "Doesn't it worry you?"

"What? Bryn's moping?"

"Yes! What's he been up too? We have no idea. For all we know, he could be causing trouble."

Lyra laughed. "That's no different than before."

Fenrin gave her another look and she shrugged adding, "Look, Fen, I'd know about it if he was picking fights with the Jarls. He's just disconnecting, going wild again. You didn't want to kill him, so let him just disappear and never come back."

There was an unhappy pause as Fenrin considered this before a sly grin grew on his lips and he stepped closer, looming over his sister. "I'm surprised you're so relaxed about having no idea where Bryn is. He could snap, mess up one of your schemes. I think we should talk to him, re-establish some boundaries."

Lyra patted Fenrin on the chest, pushing him back a bit. "Great idea. You do that."

"Lyra!"

Rolling her eyes, she hopped off the desk. "What? You're the one who’s concerned. You talk to him about ‘boundaries’. I have more important business."

She turned to leave but as her hand touched the door, Fenrin hissed, "What like torment the prince?" He had a smug grin on his face when she turned back around. "Yeah, I know about that. You're not the only one with spies and the murders at the capital weren't Brimstones. They were professional though. What's that all about? Is it really that hard to kill the man?"

She smiled, teeth bared. "I'm not trying to kill him."

"Then what? Turn him into a dog like Harold? He's the crown prince, you honestly don't think anyone will notice?"

"Honestly, Fen, you have no sense of scale. Think about it some more and I'm sure you'll figure it out."

He scowled and she changed the subject. "What we really should be considering is Maelif. She's no fool, she knows about us and I'm sure she smells our vulnerability. The guild may no longer be under her thumb but they won't pick a fight with her for us and with her new land, she might not consider us worth the trouble anymore. Harold reported she spread herself thin over new territory, but she's greedy."

Fenrin nodded. "True, Jaired's been picking at her for years. We could lay off and stay off the radar...or we could make a show of strength."

"We're stretched thin too." Lyra tapped her chin, neither sibling liked the idea of backing down. She thought aloud, "Even if we did pull back, we'd need eyes to watch for Maelif's move. She'll make one as soon as she thinks she's ready. If we draw back and gather strength, we need to know when to expect her attack and the guild is our best option—but they don't come cheap."

"I want to say we push, but my men aren't enough to face an organized army." Fenrin considered. "But..."

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He grinned and Lyra raised an eyebrow.

"It'll take time for Maelif and Elris to redistribute and during the transition Vosfell is still ripe for the picking. We are more than capable of finishing squeezing it dry."

"And leaving the Jarls the rinds to protect," Lyra finished with her own smile. "Good idea. We'll use the funds to hire the guild and the action to leave a message."

Fenrin nodded. "I'll head the raids, but I want you to do something about father." Lyra grimaced but Fenrin pressed, "I'm sure you have places to be and don't want to spend the next few months out in the field and I don't want a raging bear forcing me to call my men back home. So, have we got a deal?"

He reached out a hand and Lyra groaned but took it. "Fine."

"Have fun with dad!" Fenrin reached over her and opened the door. Using their clasped hands, he spun her aside and stepped out.

Scowling, Lyra grabbed her cloak and left into the cold to catch up with Bryn.

She found him fairly quickly, he didn't seem to be in a hurry. Walking beside him for a moment, she waited in vain for his acknowledgement. Finally, she spoke, "Where are you headed?"

Bryn turned his stormy grey eyes on her. "To the wilds."

"Great. Which wilds exactly?"

The Bear turned to her, his massive form making her start for a moment. It had been a while since she had faced him and it was so easy to forget just how inhumanly huge he was. "That's my business," he growled.

Ignoring the fact her mouth had gone dry, she managed to say, "Your business, the family business...just trying to stay coordinated."

He growled again but she held her ground until, finally, he shifted and nodded his head north. "I'm going north. There's a man trying to eat our scraps, Redmane he goes by." Bryn snorted, his distaste clear.

Lyra had heard rumors of a new wild force on the northern edge of Valhym, a bandit like them gathering power. But he was so far north, it was really the fringes of their territory, even crossing into the Solis Empire so she shrugged. "Give him hell. Fen and I are going to shake down Voswell before the Jarls carve it up. Good hunting."

He nodded and continued his journey. Lyra shrugged again. If he wanted to go pick fights up north, so be it.

Fenrin agreed it was a fine place for their father and the two proceeded with their plans—Fenrin heading to Voswell and Lyra planning her next move and enjoying some time home. Vai was in the middle of giving her a massage when there was a knock on her door.

"I will see who it is," Vai murmured. He rolled the blanket up over her nude form to stave off the chill and she heard him open the door.

"Very well. Thank you for the message," he answered the person on the other side and Lyra's curiosity pulled her out of her relaxed state and with annoyance she rolled over to watch Vai return.

Seeing her watching him he bowed, "The Jarl requests an audience. The messenger said it was important."

She sighed and threw off the blanket, reaching for her clothes. Vai moved to help.

“It must be important or he wouldn't want to see me," she remarked, clipping her daggers on.

Lyra was shown into the keep, the guards giving her distasteful looks when they thought she wouldn’t see and turning pale when she caught their eyes. Harold sat on his newly repaired throne and as she burst through the doors, he waved his courtesans away.

The captain/chamberlain Sarl's hand drifted to his sword and he took a step closer to Harold. She shot him an amused look and stood at the bottom of the throne's pedestal looking up at Harold.

To his credit he not only looked the Jarl's part, but managed to maintain some of his composure as she stared him down. But her amused smile grew wider as she saw the fear swimming in his eyes. With a word, with a look, she could have him groveling on the floor...

"The king is dying," Harold stated and Lyra blinked. "The prince is to be crowned in a fortnight, I just received the invitation."

He waved a hand and with a disapproving look, Sarl handed Lyra a folded parchment. She read the invitation.

"Well, well. That is important."

Her mind raced with possibilities. Concern too. She'd hoped the High King would've lasted a few more years, given her more time to solve her prince problem. Once Eirik was king, she wouldn't be the only determined woman he'd have to deal with.

"As Jarl, my attendance is mandatory."

"Of course it is," she snapped, not appreciating his statement of the obvious interrupting her thoughts. The thirteen Jarls—well twelve now—had to attend and pledge their loyalty to the new king. She suspected the words might vary since Eirik's father's coronation, but the ceremony would remain unchanged. After the coronation would be a ball and then the High King would make a grand tour of Valhym.

Ah...

Lyra grinned and stepped up towards the throne. Sarl slid his sword out but she ignored him, holding the invitation back out to Harold who took it, unable to hide his hand's tremble. Lyra walked past him, her fingers trailing over his throne. "Tell me Harold. Did you parents have siblings?"

"Wh-what?"