AUDREY FLAMESWORTH

The least he could have done was see me off… Her anger still lingered even though she was now far away from Ironhold and the Redflower castle. He had not come, her father was nowhere to be found while she had prepared to set off. His stern hawkish face of no sight to her when she climbed the steps of her carriage one at a time until she was in after three. He was probably scribbling on another parchment, she had thought to herself. If asked she would have said she did not seek his presence, but deep down, it was otherwise, she had sought his presence, even if he would have spouted something that would have no doubt angered her, at least he would have been before her and she would have gotten to see him one last time, only the ravens know when she would see his glossed ponytailed silver hair again after she had left… but he did not come.

Her mother did though. Lady Theodora had been present, dressed in the same velvet gown of red as her daughter, only in dissimilarity where Audrey’s gown was lined at the collar and its bell sleeves by vair. Audrey was as beautiful as her mother, if only she had her red hair as she did her eyes, maybe she would have been far more beautiful, but that was only a fleeting dream as her head wore a different colour, the silver of her father which had been twin braided to drop over her forehead, and embroidered into a long tail that fell gracefully behind her.

“Send ravens to me. Write all you can, I want to know how you’re faring over there,” Lady Theodora had said with a smile while grabbing her daughter’s hand through the window of the carriage, as the mailed pair of riders, wearing a half-helm with the crest of a phoenix engraved upon its forehead, set about to ready their geldings. “Do all the king says, and… do not hate your father, he’s doing what he thinks best for you.” Her mother’s hands tightened warmly on hers.

“I’ll write all I can, Mother. To you and father, do not worry yourself.”

That she said to soothe her mother, but now that she thought of letters in this castle, where her freedom would be stripped off from her, she did not want to write to her father. But a promise to her mother was a promise she would keep. She would write to the lord of Ironhold if it would please her mother. Anything for her.

Audrey was standing bent over with palm on cheek on the window sill of her new bedchamber now—her cage she would have rather called it—watching the movements and rapport which ensued in the yard below. “It is only for a night, two at most,” the gilded man that came to lead her from her carriage had said, “until you wed His Grace. You will move to his bedchamber after that.” This place had a nice view though, she might miss it.

“A good bed as well,” Renly drew her from her thinking with his words as if he had been listening to her thoughts, but she knew she had just missed some of the other things he had said, things that were most likely of little to no importance. She was grateful he was here though, her father had waved him to join her, only surprising in how fast, because she knew he only did so owing to the fact that the king had allowed her to come with whoever she pleased. How would she have fared without him and his over talkative mouth if he had not come? She did not even want to think too much of it. Only her in this castle with no one to call her own would only make her shudder.

“Maybe you should learn sword fighting with them,” Audrey said to Renly as she glimpsed two men in hauberk and leather chest pads smiling and sweating, and swinging and parrying the attacks of each other’s blunt swords. How lucky they were, they were doing something they enjoyed.

“Dogshit!” The smile of one of the men faded as he cursed with a painful growl at the moment that the other man he sparred with bent a knee to the outswing of his sword and hit him at his left side where his chest pad gave no protection.

“Dogshit,” Audrey whispered in learning while she watched them carry on.

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“Steward I am, my lady, not a fighter,” Renly answered from behind her. She had almost forgotten she had said something to him.

Audrey did not give him her eyes. The blows and hits the two men fed themselves with she seemed to enjoy. She occasionally glimpsed other men fighting as well, but these two she watched no doubt took her attention more. They had a precision she could not quite understand, beautiful swordsmanship she would have called it. Is that gilded knight any better…? That wonder plagued her mind slightly. He no doubt looked more of a fighter than the two men she was watching. Ser Aaron the Kingsknight, he had called himself. Yes, he would be a superb fighter no doubt, no man would be a Kingsknight and be below par. She almost smacked herself on the head for wondering something that was so obvious.

“Maybe being a steward and a fighter would be good, who would protect me if I needed help?” Audrey said, her mind slowly wishing no trouble of such would ever arise, but she was a ways away from home, and the farther from home she was, the closer trouble was to her, that she believed. And she was at the end of the realm, the only thing that remained after the castle was the great sea, and that meant she had just arrived at trouble’s siege tower, awaiting its besieging.

“My lady,” she heard the voice of the knight that had come to take her from her carriage, calling to her. “His Grace is here,” he added, and she saw the mailed man that was hit at his side before, fall to one knee after the other man he sparred with struck a blow with the pommel of his sword to his groyne, and with another blow to the head of the former, she saw his his lips read a yield with his hands raised up in surrender as he lay on the floor before she took herself away from the window. “It’s His Grace’s castle, he can come in whenever he wants,” she answered, quite courteously.

The door swung open, and she saw his fair face, his blue hair, and his narrow silver eyes again. It was not a dream, he really was so beautiful. He was dressed in a grey doublet strapped at the chest by leather buckles, a rather plain outfit for the king, but she didn’t mind, his smile was not plain, it was warm and heartfelt as though he had missed her. Did he? She wondered. If not, why would he grace her with such an alluring smile. But this was the first they had met since the day he had chosen her, was such a short discussion between them that day enough to make him miss her?

The shut of the door snapped her back from her intrusive thoughts, but his voice almost dipped her back in it. “How was your journey?” He asked. “I heard it takes two days and two nights to travel from…” he took a glance at the man that had come in with him, the one of auburn hair dim to her mother’s, it seemed like he whispered a question to him before turning back to her, “…Ironhold. How was it?”

“It was fine, Your Grace,” Audrey dropped a curtsy. “I had my steward to keep me company.” She stretched her hand as a gesture to show Renly to him.

“Your Grace.” Renly bowed. “It’s a pleasure to be before your presence.”

“Thank you for keeping her company,” the king said as he walked further into the room. Quite spacious it was, she would say her own bedchamber at Ironhold was bigger but only in stubbornness. This one was far bigger, the bed far bigger, and the hearth far bigger as well, she could only wonder how big the king’s bedchamber was.

“It is my job, Your Grace, as her steward,” Renly answered with another bow.

The king nodded at him and then turned back to Audrey. “How do you like the room?” He looked around, at the grey walls and its ceiling, smiling. “Is it to your satisfaction?”

“It is, Your Grace. I quite like it, and I can see the yard from here as well.”

“That’s good, it will only be for a while. I can guarantee my own bedchamber is better, and please call me Zephyr. You will be my queen after all.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Audrey lowered her head. “Zephyr it is.” It came back up to watch his silver eyes captivate her as it had done a thousand times now.

“I’ll leave you to your rest now, but I’d love to talk to you better later on, maybe at evenfall’s meal.”

“I would love such too, Your Grace.” Audrey put her hands together before her skirt.

Zephyr nodded at her and at her steward, both answering with a bow before he turned to the auburn haired man that stood behind him in silence. “Let’s go, Flynn,” he said, and out the door they went, his back the last she saw.