"It's too tight." It was hard to understand the fashion of the continental people. Caorain bit her lower lip as the maid tightened laces, cinching her waist. "Bad. Hurt." She stared directly into the mirror, catching the maid's face in the reflection. After she rose her head in surprise, she eased on the ties.

"Sorry, Miss. Er. Mistress."

Caorain wanted nothing more than to slip into the looser, simple gowns donned by her people and snuggle into a fur, or perhaps deerskin cloak. She placed a hand on the copper torq at her neck, relieved she was at least entitled to wear this, signifying her importance to her clan. Sadly, that importance was predicated on her union with the foreigner.

Caorain took a deep breath as the maid finished helping her dress. She felt like a doll. But Benold expected her to dress like his people. The maid picked up a brush, but Cairain quickly laid her hand over the maid's and shook her head. "No. I do it."

"As you wish," the maid said, relenting control of the brush. "Anything else, ma'am?"

"No."

The maid curtsied and left, muttering to herself. Caorain stuck out her lips in a pout. "I don't need to know your words to understand your meaning..." she muttered resentfully to the servant as she exited. Caorain focused on brushing and braiding her hair. "Do they think I am deaf?"

"No. They merely don't believe we have feelings."

Caorain swallowed and glanced into the mirror. Standing framed in her door, left open by the maid supposedly, was her cousin. Seeing her, she relaxed. "Asion. Why have you come? Is anything amiss?"

"It is. But I need not troubles to visit my kin." The deer tails that hung from asion's belt swayed as she came in, standing behind her cousin. Caorain finished tying the end of her long braid and tossed it over her shoulder.

"It is not father?"

"No." Asion placed her hands on the back of Caorain's chair. "Chief Limtan has died."

"What?" Caorain's eyes widened. She put down her brush with a heavy clack, immediately lowering her gaze, lower lip dropped. "Who, then, succeeded him as chief?"

"His nephew, Guclein MorKarria."

The words fell on Caorain heavily, and felt as though many bees were stinging her heart. She sucked in her lower lip, holding it in place with her teeth as she tried in vain to think of all of the ramifications. "The MorKarria have much reason to despise the Ayokonians. Will they march on New Karebryn?"

"We fear so. A messenger has been sent to see which way they will turn." Asion's knuckles went pale as the gripped the back of the chair harder. "It is likely, Haggol will come to free you."

Caorain's eyelashes fluttered and she continued to stare down. Freedom. From this strange place, and to be with her own people. But Haggol was just as bad of a husband as Benold. "I will defend this house if he comes."

Asion's eyebrows lifted, but then she relaxed and smiled, somewhat grimly. "Honour in duty."

"Honour in duty."

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"Mrs. Gray!" Caorain had become very good at saying the crone's name. She looked up as she draped a large bolt of cloth over her arm, to allow the masons access to the badly damaged wall.

"I'll await your assessment. Don't dally," Mrs. Gray said sternly to the men, who wore plaster dust in their hair and mortar caked on their clothes as a sort of badge. With prim steps and erect posture, the hard heels of her pointy leather boots clicked as she approached Caorain and Asion, giving a short curtsy. "What?"

Caorain lifted her chin in a manner she had often observed her husband do, letting her eyelids droops as she stared her nose down at the housekeeper. Mrs. Gray twisted her mouth into a frown at this. "I mean, what is it, my lady?"

"Need..." Caorain paused uncertainly. "Warriors."

"Warriors?" Mrs. Gray looked around, uncertainly. "Are you plotting conquest while the master is away?"

"Your mistress is concerned about defence. Is not that right, Caorain?" Asion filled in with her greater command of Siperian.

"Defence? Why? Has someone threatened you, m'lady?" Grs. Gray seemed torn between scepticism, as her tone sounded suspicious and her lips remain screwed into asymmetry. But the darting of her eyes and slant of her eyebrows gave a hint of concern.

Asion took in a breath, but Caorain held up her hand and stepped forward. "No." She lowered her hand and looked to Asion. "MorKarria new chief. Enemy." She looked to her wolf-clad cousin and nodded to her. "Tell her an attack may happen, but is not yet known. I want scouts. And I want guards - here."

"MorKarria, neighbour clan, have a new chief, Guclein. To him, New Karebryn is the enemy. Attack is not known, but better to increase defence now."

Mrs. Gray hugged the heavy cloth tighter to herself, shuffling the majority of the weight to her other arm. "And why tell me this? We have a sheriff."

"He listen not!" Caorain retorted, patting her chest with her hand twice. "Listen Benold, only!" Caorain then pointed to Mrs. Gray. "You, you listen."

"Asion, as liaison, could speak with the sheriff directly. Why bring me into this? I know nothing these matters. Master Benold always ar-"

"Master here not!" Caorain interrupted. She rolled back her shoulders, trying to look as imperious and commanding as her husband had always been. "I here. I speak for Benold. Asion does not."

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Asion nodded her head, crossing her arms. "I will help Caorain speak, no speak for her."

"I still don't understand why you came to me," Mrs. Gray groused.

Caorain's strong demeanour faltered. "I... know not how to meet Sheriff."

At this Mrs Gray's furrowed brow mostly uncreased, save for the permanent wrinkles that informed of her weary experiences in life. "Ah. That I can help you with." Mrs. Gray paused. "How have your writing lessons come along? Do you need me to write a summons for you?"

Caorain regained her composure and nodded her head. Mrs. Gray's expression softened considerably. "Well then, let us go to the study and I'll send a messenger into town as soon as possible."

As the three of them walked through the scorched halls, Asion leaned to her shorter cousin. "You put on airs just like him."

"I deal with his people, I deal with them in his way." Caorain's plump lips thinned as she stuck her chin out.

"Are you sure that is wise? They may not respect you if you pretend to be him."

"These people are happy to be deceived by appearance. I appear to be powerful, then that is enough."

"Be careful. There will be those, even among them, who will challenge you. Are you ready to stand your ground, Caorain?"

Wearing a grim smile, Caorain answered, "I am. What have I to lose but everything?"

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The natural light of the setting sun came in full blast from the west facing window. Caorain lifted a hand, and the hapless mai, overworked and underpaid, went to adjust the heavy drapes. The mistress of the estate sat with her hands on her lap as a man walked in, removing his hat and bowing his head.

"I came as soon as I got the message. Has the Governor returned already?"

"No." Caorain said with a shake of her head.

The blocky man standing before her cast a gaze around, confusion dawning on his face before he carefully reset it to neutral, seeming to will his chiselled features to harden in place. "Ah. Well. Has there been some trouble at the estate you needed to report?"

Caorain hesitated. Asion had her rehearse what she would say over and over. She sucked on her lower lip a moment and glanced down, but then leaned back in her chair slightly, feeling reassured by the wicker that curved naturally around her shoulders. She looked the man directly in the eyes. "Sheriff Poul. I summoned you on behalf of Master Ovollar. I act in his interests." So far it all sounded right. She didn't stutter, but she took a moment to pause, pick apart what was said, and prepare the next part. A quick glance to Asion, who stood still and silent in a corner, was all she needed to continue. "The MorKarria chief died, his truce died with him. We need more patrols. We need a scout. We need guards posted here again."

The sheriff stood and stared blankly at Caorain, which was exacerbated by his spaced out eyes. His thumbs twiddled above his hat, which several times looked as if it might tumble out of his grasp. After a sideways glance, he looked directly at Caorain again. "We don't have the manpower to be sending out scouts and patrols as well as keep peace in our own streets. With the recent wave of opportunity seekers, we have been having plenty of trouble at the docks."

Caorain canted her head to the side, listening carefully. She hazarded a glance to Asion, who remained mostly concealed from the Sheriff. Asion held up a hand signal, her fingers from each hand barely touching, forming a perpendicular angle. Caorain nodded and swallowed hard, her nerves beginning to gnaw at her. "Enlist farmers if you... must."

The Sheriff crossed his arms, hat tucked under his armpit. "Then who will tend the farms?"

Again Caorain glanced to the corner containing her cousin. She did not want to seem weak by always requiring the Lienog liaison. However, she was finding this charade was a bit much, and not sustainable. She was out of practiced phrases. Caorain took in a deep breath, her heart thumping, and the back of her neck was feeling moist with nervous perspiration. "We need patrols," she repeated.

Despite disliking the use of restrictive garments, Caorain was glad for them at present, as it kept her from slumping in defeat. She rolled her shoulders back and raised her eyebrows in a challenge for him to continue to defy her.

Sheriff Poul snorted, looking her up and down. "Look, I don't take kindly to some savage ordering me around. Your purpose doesn't extend beyond the bedroom. Unless there's been a burglary here, or some other real crime, don't waste my time." As a punctuating statement of his disrespect, Poul put on his hat.

Caorain quickly glanced at Asion, who looked as though she might leap from the shadows. Caorain gave quick jerk of her head to the side and a flick of her fingers to signal her to stay. She then narrowed her eyes at the impertinent man. She didn't know all of the words, but his expression and body language said enough. "Do as I say!" Caorain threw out her hand, towards the man, trying again to embody Benold's bluster.

Sheriff Poul chuckled derisively as he strode out of the study. With a flash, Asion's dagger was drawn. Caorain shook her head, and Asion held back, allowing the Sheriff to see himself out.

"He was out of line and needed to be taught a lesson. Why did you hold me back?" Asion asked as she stepped from her cloaked vantage point among the drapes.

"You are our ambassador. Attacking Sheriff Poul would create tension between New Karebryn and our kin. If we wish to regain our lands, and teach these devourers The Way, it will not be with blood shed." Caorain stood up, glaring at the doorway through which the Sheriff had evacuated.

"But now he will see you as weak. So will the men under his command," Asion said, her face turning grave. She likewise glowered at the exit, crossing her arms and shifting her weight. "Have you secured your position?"

The muscles in Caorain's throat displayed in sharp relief as she tensed. She swallowed and shook her head. "I did my best, cousin. He wants only Trosyn. He promises me cattle if he does not return. But will they honour it?"

"Let us hope it does not come to that. Without him as Governor, I fear our plans will be frustrated." Asion walked around to the large desk in the study, picking up a piece of paper and examining it before setting it down again.

Caorain remained seated. "Your plans," Caorain said quietly.

Asion turned to Caorain, leaning against the desk and arching an eyebrow. "This has been hard on you. But it is for our village and our extended kin. We will do our best to convince the MorKarria it is for theirs as well. But all the same, we need a contingency. We cannot have that rash stag, Guclein, setting us back."

"No. We cannot. Not after what I gave up for this purpose. And as I said, if it comes to baring our fangs, I will defend what is mine." Caorain looked around at the room, once opulent she imagined before the fire. "Benold is frustrating and extravagant. But a wife who does not defend her home, is a worthless wife. I do not believe, even if I returned home with a bounty, any man will look at me if I turn on him."

"Any man except Haggol," Asion added with a soft snort. "No. You spoke well to remind me of your duty, and what brings you honour. It is not the same for me, and my family legacy."

Caorain did not wish to discuss Asion's legacy. Although related, Caorain was the daughter of Asion's uncle. But they both came from the only matrilineal family in their clan. As the daughter of a son, she was mere leftovers. "What do I do about Sheriff Poul?"

Asion took a moment to consider the situation. "He said the docks were trouble. We learn about it, and see what we can do to fix it so he has no more excuse. Then make more commands, with more threats."

"These people are attached to things. Without work, they cannot trade for more things," Caorain mused. "I will replace him as Sheriff if he does not do his job."

"Is there someone you have in mind?" Asion asked with a cant of her head.

Caorain was silent for a moment, listening to the banging of repair work being done. Her lips curled up in a smile. "Yes, I do."