It was late in the evening when Sylvia came down from her room. As soon as Ritva spotted her on the stairs, she called Sylvia over. “I was trying to get a hold of you, but your guard dog said you were sleeping”, she said, shooting Afi a pointed look.

“I really needed the rest. My sworn saw to it that I was not disturbed”, Sylvia stated. Instinctively, she held her head a little higher.

Ritva raised a hand dismissively. “Either way. Yri and Thorun are looking for you”, she prompted, motioning toward the fireplace.

At the other end of the hall, the sisters sat together with Frida and Kvist, sharing a meal and more than a bottle of wine.

Digging in her pocket, Sylvia placed a silver onto the counter. “Thank you for letting us stay here”, she smiled.

Picking the coin up, Ritva smiled right back. “Of course. Stay as long as you would like, Fri. Let me know if you want to switch rooms as well, yea?”

“The one we have is fine.”

Ritva made a sceptical noise in answer.

Sylvia turned away from the counter. Why would both sisters be here, looking for her? She hoped it was good news, rather than bad ones. Taking a slow breath, she crossed the room.

Before she even reached the table, Frida grinned at her. “Heya sleepyhead! Good evening.”

“There she is! The woman of the hour. Have a seat”, Yri cheered. She patted the chair beside her and Sylvia settled into it.

Afi took a chair at the next table, not intruding, but keeping his eyes on his liege.

“Yri. What can I do for you today?”, Sylvia asked.

“So formal”, Yri teased, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“We received a letter this morning”, Thorun said. She reached into the deep pockets of her tunic and handed a thick envelope to Sylvia.

The envelope was already torn open, uneven shreds of paper hanging from the wax seal. The seal bore a simple design, a heptagon with a stripe behind it, going from the upper right to the lower left. It seemed familiar enough, but Sylvia could not quite place it. Inside the envelope were five sheets of paper, each covered in writing on both sides. Sylvia thumbed through the pages and cleared her throat.

“Just give me the short version”, Thorun interrupted.

“You want me to summarise?”, Sylvia asked in surprise.

“That thing is several pages. People never have enough to say to justify writing several pages. It is always just lines and lines of formality and drivel”, Thorn scowled. “Just read it and tell me what they want. And make sure you catch any hints. You know what I mean”, she instructed.

Nodding, Sylvia got to work. Frida nudged her and held up the bottle of wine. Shaking her head, Sylvia focused on her reading instead. After a few minutes, she put the letter down and noticed that everyone had gone quiet. Everyone was watching her with an air of bewilderment. Sylvia smiled to herself. She really was a quick reader, was she not?

“The letter is by Oskar AudOlafsson. He claims to be a descendant of Floki, the first king of Sev. He argues that the best course action would be to join him in his quest for the throne”, she summarised.

“What?”, Thorun frowned.

“He argues that Sev is in a state of chaos and needs new leadership, and that he, as a descendant with a claim, can reunite the country under the Crown. He wants you to join him”, Sylvia elaborated. “And if I was to judge, I would say he is determined, but seems rather unsure of the whole thing himself.”

“Let me see that”, Thorun demanded, taking the letter and opening it again.

She sat silent for a long while, slowly reading the entire letter, page by page. Sylvia took a few cherries from a nearby plate and handed a handful to Afi as well before beginning to eat them. Spitting the stones into a small bowl, she looked to the bar.

“I will get it. Water, right?”, Frida smiled.

“Please”, Sylvia nodded.

Frida came back a moment later and handed Afi a beer and a plate of food. She set another plate, and a glass of water down in front of Sylvia, and winked at her. Noticing Yri’s eyes following her every move, she went so far as to give Sylvia's chin a playful nudge with the tip of her finger. Settling into her chair beside Yri again, she enjoyed Yri’s attention to the fullest, the strong arm coming to rest over her shoulders, and the honey eyes focusing on her with a jealous tenderness. Sylvia avoided looking on too much. She did not want Yri to get the wrong idea. There was no way she would lay a claim on Frida, or try to challenge Yri in any shape or form.

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A focused frown stayed on Thorun’s face when she turned the last page. Finally, she threw the letter onto the nearest table and scoffed. “What by all the gods? How full of himself is this kid?”

Yri burst into laughter. “He actually expects a crown?”

Thorun nodded and burst into laughter as well.

Sylvia tensed. She could understand a healthy scepticism, but complete dismissal was beyond her. Oskar may have some lofty ambitions. He may even be arrogant. She could honestly not care less who decided to crown himself as king. It matter little if it was a war-worn soldier or a young aristocrat. Quite frankly, she did not give a damn if he was related to Floki or not. All she wanted was for someone to take control and stabilise Sev. All she wanted was to drive back the Wolves, to make damn sure that what happened to her never happened again. It was a chance, a real chance at peace in Sev. How could anyone dismiss that out of hand? “You are not even going to consider it?”

“Why would I?”, Thorun returned the question.

“It makes sense, does it not?”

“How do you figure?”, Thorun demanded.

“It would be a good strategic choice. It would be a lot easier to keep the Wolves at bay with the AudOlafsson family on our side. They control everything between Söder- and Nordborg, right?” She looked to Yri and got a pleased nod in response. “With more soldiers to protect the towns, we could start to push north. We could drive them away for good. An alliance with a great house like AudOlafsson is just as favourable for us as it is for him. Do you not agree? Besides, someone will ascend sooner or later. Why not be on the winning team?”

Thorun scoffed. “Great house. Oskar is but a boy too young for his father’s boots.”

“But they do have a lot of soldiers, and we have taken some losses this year”, Frida cut in.

“I suppose we could use the military strength”, Thorun conceded.

“He wants to become a king, though”, Yri said sourly. “He wants to bring the Crown back. Whom would that serve, besides him?”

Thorun shook her head. “No, Sylvia has a point. He is hardly the only person to have this ambition. The Crown will rise again. It is just a matter of time. I would prefer to be allied with the king this time around. Hell, instead of fighting the Crown, we could be influencing law. We can make sure the Crown cannot ignore us.”

“I do not think we need AudOlafsson for that”, Yri said.

“I do. We have no claim.”

Yri clicked her tongue in response.

Thorun eyed the letter again. She grumbled irritably and jerked her head toward her sister. “Let us see what he has to say at least.”

“Fine”, Yri shrugged.

Kvist drew her eyes from the fire. “I advise against letting them into the city before an alliance is established. AudOlafsson were under the Crown after all.”

“True”, Thorun agreed. Turning to Sylvia, she ordered, “Write a response. We ride for Söderborg the day after tomorrow.”

“Right away”, Sylvia nodded.

“Write it and hand it to Dana. Tell him it is urgent. He will see that it is delivered before our arrival. Then pack. I will have you with me on this trip”, Thorun instructed, before getting up.

“Me?”, Sylvia repeated, pointing at herself.

“Yes. You are my scribe, and you have proven yourself useful as adviser more than once. Consider yourself one of my inner circle.” Thorun patted Sylvia on the shoulder and took her leave.

Yri smirked at Sylvia, and made sure to give Frida a long look as well, before following her sister. Kvist on the other hand simply walked away without offering as much as a second of eye contact.

Sylvia was stunned. After a moment, a smile crept onto her face. “Me”, she said again.

“Honestly, what did you think?”, Frida teased. “You were part of the inner circle before today.”

“I was?”, Sylvia asked.

“Did you sit with them during their strategy meeting at Holms Fäste or not?”, Frida asked. She gave Sylvia a meaning look and then began cleaning up.

Afi huffed a laugh. “You did not realise?”

“How did you?”, Sylvia countered.

“Anja Fri. You do understand that she did not just apologise to you because she was so sorry about what happened, right?”

“You think?”

Afi nodded. “She just knew her place, and more importantly, yours.”

Caught in the moment, Sylvia nearly forgot something very important. She motioned for Afi to stay and shot out of her chair. She was fast enough to catch up to the sisters and their sworn on the street outside.

“Kvist, can I talk to you for a moment?”

Kvist turned to look at Sylvia. She did not say anything, or even nod, but she focused on Sylvia.

Sylvia cleared her throat. “Alone?”

Thorun nodded her permission and the sisters left them. Kvist stood still, waiting.

Sylvia twisted her hands together. “I erm…Your soul is, well, missing a piece, right?”

“Why would you ask something like that?”

“Sorry. It is just that I am—to be honest—scared, and I thought maybe you could offer some guidance”, Sylvia admitted.

Kvist stepped closer and looked into her eyes. The bright empty space inside of Kvist drew Sylvia in. Kvist may as well have picked her up and turned her this way and that, but she did not have to lift a finger to inspect Sylvia, inside and out. “Why? You seem fine”, she finally asked.

“I guess. I just—” Sylvia hesitated. “I knew that a soul could break, but I did not know that it could happen several times. You know what happened in Holms Fäste as well as I, but I think it has happened before, and maybe also after.”

“When your eyes dimmed during your visit to Nyberg”, Kvist stated flatly.

Sylvia nodded. “I knew my eyes would dim over the years, but I was not aware it could happen so suddenly. I have been reading about souls and their structure to make sense of it. Instead of giving me clarity, it has left me unnerved.” Sylvia left out the little detail that her moment of realisation had included an act of casting.

“Ah”, Kvist made. She nodded and her rigid stance deflated somewhat. “Yes, a soul can break into tiny pieces. In fact, once there is a crack, it is easier to break it, and then to keep breaking it, until it is completely shattered. I would not be worried, though.”

“No?”, Sylvia asked.

Kvist shook her head “No. Why do you think souls break to begin with?”

Sylvia shrugged. “Too much pressure?”, she suggested.

“Humans adapt to their surroundings. It is what we do. A soul is a marvellous thing in peace. We can love and connect, feel each other. But in times of war it is a burden, so it breaks down, becomes less of a bother. We feel less when we need to. We adapt. See it as a blessing.”

Sylvia frowned, but eventually nodded. “Maybe you are right.”

“Do not loose sleep over it. You are hardening. Dim eyes are not such a bad thing. You will be stronger for it”, Kvist encouraged. There was a hint of warmth in her voice when she said these words. Turning her back to Sylvia, she added, “And you cannot loose a piece by breaking alone. That requires soul bending.”

Before Sylvia could think to ask, Kvist strode away. The swiftness of her steps told Sylvia that this conversation was over regardless.