Fredric Cardel was the captain assigned to lead the intelligence mission based in the duchy of Mayce. With just shy of fifteen years experience as a Skyrider, Fredric had an air of confidence about him that made him seem almost cocky. He was a long, lean man of average height with a sharp, bird-like nose and pinched brow that made his eyes appear smaller than they were. He was closer to forty than thirty, but refused to acknowledge the grey hairs that peppered his short, well kept beard.

Though he had his very own Jacadon, on this occasion, he had called for the use of Volareons, especially since he had a new recruit, one he had graciously allowed to join his party. There had been no arm twisting or large sums of money exchanged, at least, that was the story he was sticking to. Yvan Yilmaz had made him a wealthy man. He had his newest crew mate Elyna to thank for that, although an anonymous donation meant that she would never know.

The party had been given their orders, they were to make a routine stop in Krome, head north to Gwayne a day later to deliver food goods, and make it to the mountain duchy of Mayce by the fifteenth of the season. They had landed within the valley of Mayce late on the evening of the fourteenth and made use of the small barracks accommodation before rising early the next day. Fredric had informed the crew that the next two days were their own, to recover from the journey, and met with them over breakfast to discuss his intentions.

“I take it you all slept well,” he began. “Our Volareon are resting in the far northwest tower on the grounds. The fort’s village is small and relatively quiet this time of year, though I have been informed there is a lot of construction going on around the town centre, so I warn you all to take care when traversing the streets.”

Emily bumped Elyna with her shoulder to check that the woman was awake. She smiled and encouraged her to finish her porridge with a pointed look.

Fredric looked down at the scroll he held unfurled in his hands and read from the bullet points he had jotted down, elaborating on some of the notes he had made. “The Duke of Mayce winters in the region and is currently taking up residence in the keep to the east of the village. He has informed me via letter this morning that there will be a dance tomorrow night in the great hall and has extended an invitation to our party.”

Emily giggled.

The Captain looked down his nose at the table and pinned Emily with a cold stare. “Do you have something to add?”

She shook her head.

“You may notice a number of the King’s Guard in attendance, as some of you may know Mayce is the birth place and home to the young princes Marcus and Vaughn Krome. Please don’t embarrass me during your time here by approaching or speaking to either of the boys given half the chance. We are here on official business. I don’t want word getting back to the King that we wasted the time of his kin.”

Emily looked at Elyna and lifted her brow comically. “Dare you to throw a snowball at one of the little brats if you see them,” she whispered.

“The Duke has also sent word that we are free to use any of the horses assigned to the barrack stables, but asks that if anyone is interested in exploring the grounds or gardens that they do so during daylight hours, which as you all know are few in number at this time of year. Well, I think that will be all. Do behave yourselves and if anyone needs me I shall be in the village library.”

Emily got up the second they were dismissed, desperate to explore the grounds, sure it would be the first and last time she would ever have the pleasure of visiting again. She took Elyna’s hand and hurried her to her feet. “Come on! I’m dying to climb the wall and look out over the mountains. Oh, Elyna! Don’t you think it’s just the most beautiful place you’ve ever seen!”

They had scarcely stepped out of the barracks when Emily gasped all of the sudden and pulled her friend around the edge of the building. “By the seven… it can’t be!” She said, shocked. “Isn’t that your family carriage?” Emily asked, taking a second peek at the dark, Burhan blue carriage that had just come through the main gates to the south of the fort from the only road in and out of Mayce. “Why would your family be visiting?” She asked, confused. “Do they know you’re here?”

Harvest had passed in a blur and Elyna had never been happier. She had thrown herself into training for the Skyriders the morning after her strange encounter with Malcolm Bennett, trying not to dwell on all of her embarrassing mistakes.

As the man had promised, hard work within the skyriders seemed to pay off. By the end of the season she had been able to soar into the skies on the back of a Volarean for the first time. It was an experience she would never forget. She accompanied more seasoned riders on short missions and felt that she was able to perform her duties well. At least, as well as any recruit. So it was a shock when she was invited to accompany Emily on a mission to Mayce at the start of Frost. Elyna had stood, dumbstruck, afraid to accept the offer in case it was snatched away. Before Emily elbowed her in the side and she made her quick agreement.

Now they were in Mayce and Elyna felt as though they were in the middle of a fairy story. Snow-capped mountains circled the valley. From the air, the village and Keep had been lit with the gentle glow of lanterns. There was a quietness to the place, an undisturbed peace that she found inviting.

During their morning briefing the woman sat, listening and eager. Back straight she looked neater than most of the others, her hair pinned back and wearing a fresh shirt. So intent on listening that she forgot to eat until reminded. The porridge was good, thick and seasoned with cinnamon.

Elyna wanted to do well, even if she was tired after the long flight through the cold. She pressed her lips tight together as Emily dared her to throw a snowball at a young prince. It would be tempting...but she hid her own smile and waited to be dismissed.

Free of the rest of the crew, the woman laughed as they stepped out into the crisp air of early Frost. She wrapped her arms around her chest and shook her head. ‘I can’t think of anything worse than going to a dance,’ she groaned. She hated social functions.

‘You can have fun at this one though!’ Emily protested, ‘drink, dance and laugh with the rest of us!’

Elyna shrugged, though couldn’t help but smile once more. Maybe, as Elyna Reyes she could have some fun at the celebration. Maybe. Besides she was curious to see the young princes and the Duke of Mayce whose path had never crossed her own.

Her fragile hope of enjoying the festivities lasted a whole minute, before Emily dived back behind the wall.

‘What?’ Elyna peered around the corner as the carriage rumbled up the road towards the Keep. Elyna couldn’t help but stare after it. The blood drained from her face. She felt it pool like a sickness in her stomach. No. Not here. Not now.

‘I didn’t know...Seven damnit. Shit!’ She turned back and held her hands over her face. Fingers shaking as she struggled to breathe. ‘Emily, why is she here? How can I do this?! Does she know I’m here? Is this some big plot?’

Emily’s hands landed on her shoulder. ‘Ely,’ the blonde forced her to look up. ‘You’re panicking, stop panicking! Breathe!’

Elyna stared at her friend before closing her eyes. She forced herself to inhale and tipped her head back against the wall. The grey stone was rough and cold behind her.

‘You won’t know until you ask…’

‘Right.’ Elyna agreed. ‘But who...who can I-‘

‘Where Caelin is, Pavoo isn’t far away…’ Emily reminded her friend.

Elyna found that she could breathe a little easier. She nodded slowly. ‘Okay…’

——

Darkness fell early in Frost. Stars hung from a midnight blue sky as the trope of Skyriders made their way towards the Keep. They followed a line of lanterns that lined the route from the village. There was a gentle buzz of excitement as many of the villagers walked in front, eager to attend. Everyone wore their finest, and the Skyriders had been able to borrow a variety of clothes for the occasion.

Emily looked lovely in a bodice of dark red and flowing skirts. Her blonde hair hung down her back in a wave of gold. She held the hand of another Skyrider, a young man called Liam who was nearly a head taller than both women. Elyna had learnt that Emily and Liam had grown close in the last few seasons. He seemed a nice enough man. Tall and slender, with his pale hair and beard neatly trimmed. He had dark eyes like her friend and was prone to smiling. Though tonight he looked uncomfortable in his formal tunic and fussed with the belt cinched around his waist.

Elyna had tried to choose an outfit that would draw the least amount of attention. But Emily had refused to let her wear a dress of sparrow-brown velvet. Instead, they had reached a compromise. Elyna had been allowed to chose a satin dress. The material was such a dark blue that it looked black in anything other than direct light. She hoped that it meant she could hide more easily in the shadows before making an early escape.

Her mother didn’t know that she was here. Pavoo had been surprised and then delighted to see his daughter. It hadn’t been easy seeing him, but Elyna knew his routines and her Father always took a morning walk alone. Always. It had been a matter of waking up before the rest of Mayce, and waiting for Pavoo to venture out in the first rays of pale grey daylight. He had even found amusement in the idea of hiding her from Caelins attention. Elyna had never felt so grateful for the good nature of the Baron. Pavoo had explained that Caelin had been curious to meet the young Princes, and an invitation to the Frost dance had been irresistible.

Relieved not to be caught within a scheme of her Mother’s, Elyna found that she had almost enjoyed the rest of the day leading up to the party. She spent most of it in the mews caring for the Volarean. It had only been by Captains orders that she had returned and reluctantly prepared for the dance. It was hard to be excited about hair styles and pretty dresses, when it felt like a trap. If Caelin saw her, would her time as a Skyrider be over? Would she be forced to meet the Princes as a Noble? Elyna prayed to the Seven that she would not find out. Once the dance was over, she could focus on their mission with Endor.

The ground was covered in the first touches of frost and sparkled as they made their way between the torches. Elyna pulled the grey woollen wrap she wore closer. Snow was coming. She could smell ice in the air. She studied the clouds as they gathered on the horizon. The Duke of Mayce had chosen the right night for his celebration.

Elyna wore her hair pinned into a bun at the nape of her neck, but inevitably stray strands had already escaped. The dress had long, almost see-through sleeves threaded with silver embroidery. A well structured corset and had been fastened tight against her waist. The ribbons lacing down her spine before coming together in a bow. The skirts flared as she walked, so she didn’t risk tripping over them. The neckline was lower than she would have chosen, with the sleeves falling from below her shoulders and leaving them bare.

The skyriders seemed to slow as they made their final ascent up the wide stone steps towards the doors. Elyna was only too glad to let their Captain step forward and lead the way. The man adjusted his fine coat and she wondered if all along he had known about the party. Their group lingered as the villagers made their way into the Keep. Then, after a pause they moved forward.

Despite the anxiety that twisted her stomach in knots, it was hard not to get caught up in the excitement as they stepped into the great hall. The wrap fell from her shoulders to rest in her arms. Unlike the rest of the group who tried to spot the nobility, or the Princes themselves, Elyna stared at the walls and the high ceiling. The Keep was as magical as the land beyond its doors. It caught her breath and she fell to the back of the crowd as she followed the others. As Emily had said, this was the most beautiful place she had ever seen.

The room was busy but didn’t feel crowded. At least there were enough people that she didn’t feel her mother would easily see her as she kept up with Emily and Liam. The couple had linked arms and made their way to a table where food and drink had been laid out. Still, Elyna found herself staring at the beautiful surrounds, decorated as they were for the dance.

The tables were positioned either side of the entrance, one stacked with a spread of delicious nibbles, crackers, meats and cheeses, the other with a vast selection of wines, different alcohols and desserts. A thousand candles glittered above them, decorating four double ringed chandeliers. Two fireplaces worked hard to warm the grand space with servants quietly tending them. The opposite side of the hall had been set up for the musicians who sat or stood playing their different instruments.

Just as Fredric had briefed the crew, a number of the King’s Guard were spread out strategically about the hall, one on each door and two on the stairs. It was impossible not to notice the uniformed men and women of Mayce, all of them dressed in black, distinguishable by the gold or silver wolf head pin they wore on the left breast of their tabards. Some of them moved about the crowd, others stood along the wall closer to the nobles in attendance, a handful of barons and their wives from Endor, Warrick, and Krome.

A lean, well muscled man had announced the arrival of each of the nobles in attendance and, if Elyna had not recognised him by sight, she would by voice as Benjamin Beaumont. He was the kind of man who she had come to know, through various missions, could throw his voice like thunder. He announced the arrival of the Baron of Warrick, his wife and twin girls. The four of them were dressed in the blood red colours of Warrick and moved to stand near the rest of the nobles who had already entered, including Elyna’s mother and father.

Caelin made a beeline for Jared and his girls under the guise of friendship, though really she had made acquaintances with the family in order to find out the age of the girls and whether or not they were promised. She had been told that Lazuli, the oldest twin, had been promised to the youngest prince, Vaughn, which pleased her to no end, knowing there was no match to be struck for the older boy, Marcus. He would one day be the future king and Caelin knew that if she could just corner the boy’s father long enough, she might be able to make a suggestion that would favour her family greatly.

Benjamin had not seen Elyna or perhaps not recognised her with her hair up and such a beautiful dress on, but he was quick to notice the arrival of his nephew from the top of the stairs and introduced him presently.

“His royal highness, Prince Marcus Atler Krome,” Benjamin announced. He smiled as the boy of eleven years descended the steps into the main hall and walked with an air of confidence his younger brother lacked.

“His royal highness, Prince Vaughn Malcolm Krome,” Benjamin added when the boy, who had just celebrated his eighth birthday a few days before, hurried after his brother Marcus into the hall.

When he saw the twins he made a dash for the family dressed in red, but was halted by his older brother, who stopped him with an outstretched hand. Vaughn, innocent as he was, took up the older boy's hand and together they crossed the hall this way, Marcus’s cheeks burning a bright shade of red. It was hard to be a future king and a big brother to such an excitable boy.

“His royal highness, Duke of Mayce, The Wolf of Krome.” A low cheer of agreement from the men and women dressed in black followed the announcement of the epithet. “Malcolm James Krome,” Benjamin finished, as a tall, dark haired man stepped into the hall.

Malcolm was dressed in black, like his crew, only the leather of his tabard was new and his boots well polished. His trousers were fitted and his dress cloak hung low in the back like that of the royal princes. He was greeted by Jared’s warm embrace like a brother, and the two of them crossed the hall to greet and speak with the other nobles. Benjamin moved to join them and Owen, who had been helping himself to a small plate of food, wasn’t far behind.

Emily cocked her head, “Hey, Elyna—isn’t that,” she had tried to point out Malcolm as the woman’s previous crew mate but was interrupted by Owen, who had just bumped into Elyna on his way through the crowd.

“Reyes!” He beamed, grinning from ear to ear. “I didn’t expect to see you here! Come! You must meet my nephews.”

It was Ben’s voice that caught her attention. Stood beside the table of food, Elyna had reached for a plate before pausing. Her fingers brushed the fine tableware as she turned and couldn’t help but smile. Ben was here? Perhaps he had been assigned for the winter? The woman let her hands fall to her sides, watching as the other nobles were announced. Curious as anyone else in the room to see the entrance of the young princes.

Marcus was every inch a King in waiting and she tilted her head to the side. Her gaze lifted to his younger brother and she felt the first unsteady beat of her heart. Vaughn Malcolm? It was an unusual name. The mention of such a name caused a strange sensation in the base of her stomach. Embarrassment at their last meeting. He must think so badly of her. She had tried so hard to put the memory aside, and tried again. Until he appeared atop the stairs.

His royal highness. Malcolm Krome. Elyna wasn’t sure if she was standing up anymore. She certainly wasn’t breathing. She took a single step away from the table and into the crowd. Her eyes fixed on the dark-haired man. He had never said. He had...he was. She was going to throw up. Her actions were made all the worse by his status and Elyna wasn’t sure if she should run or cry. As though everyone else in the room faded away. Elyna could only see the man as he moved to greet the nobles, Warrick at his side.

A jolt from the left had her blinking. All the sound returned in a rush. The musicians had started up. People were chatting, eating and drinking. Owen. She stared at him, blank until he laughed. Her former crew mate took her hand in his and pulled her forward through the crowd.

Panic was quick to return and Elyna struggled not to stumble. Owen was leading her straight to the nobles and worse, her mother. Luckily, Pavoo spotted her approach through the crowd, and seemed to recognise the look of concern on his daughters features. He tactfully led Caelin away towards the table of food. The baroness went willingly, knowing that it wouldn’t pay to seem too keen.

Elyna remembered to breathe as they approached the group. Uncertain where to look, she stuck close to Owen. But she was a noble. She could do this. She stood up straight, held her dress perfectly in her left hand and dipped into a curtesy as Owen introduced her.

‘Your royal highnesses,’ Elyna spoke softly, dipping her head before she stood again. Who among the nobles knew her? She looked across the faces and didn’t recognise anyone else. No one except Malcolm, Benjamin and of course, the exuberant Owen.

She forced herself to look across at the Wolf of Krome. Searching his features for some kind of recognition but not expecting to see any. ‘Thank you for the invitation to your wonderful celebration, it was most kind.’ Elyna forced a smile. She had her hand curled around Owens arm, afraid to let go, lest she fall over. She needed to get away. She needed to get away, fast.

“Reyes…” Malcolm said, upon turning to offer his younger brother his full attention.

Malcolm smiled, not quite like Owen had, but something a little more guilt ridden. He had not expected to see her here and knew she would have questions. Like why, when he outranked every member of the crew, including Yvan twice over, had he done the man’s bidding for so long. Why hadn’t he spoken of his title or holdings or either of his sons.

He scanned the woman with a quick glance and seemed to forget what he had been about to say all of the sudden.

Owen spoke up in his place, recognising his brother’s shortcomings. “I wanted to introduce Reyes to the boys,” he said.

“Yes!” Malcolm agreed, without hesitation. “Marcus!” He called.

Marcus spun about with care and wandered over to the group. “Father,” he answered, once in earshot, without having to raise his voice.

“Marcus, this is Elyna Reyes, she’s here with the Skyriders,” Malcolm assumed, glancing again at Reyes to check if he was right.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Marcus said.

“Vaughn—,” Malcolm said, looking about for his younger son. Vaughn was busy chatting with the twins, who were both laughing at something the boy had said.

“Lady, Reyes,” Jared said, before introducing himself. “Any relation to Caelin Reyes?” He asked.

Before Elyna could respond, Benjamin appeared holding a young boy who looked to be the mirror image of him. “Elyna!” Benjamin grinned, and extended an arm to embrace the woman. “You’re looking well. Noah,” he said then to his son, “this is our friend, Elyna—she’s a knight, just like daddy.”

“A Skyrider actually,” Owen corrected him.

Noah’s eyes lit up. “I want to be a Skyrider too!”

Benjamin’s disappointment was obvious, he after all, was from a long line of knights and expected his first born son to want to become the same. He put the boy down and let him find his feet. Noah ran off to play with Vaughn while Marcus, who was much more mature about the whole thing, merely asked to be excused.

“Yes,” his father nodded, still struggling to find words.

Anna, a tiny, fair haired woman called Ben away and Owen chose to speak with Jared, leaving Elyna and Malcolm alone with one another.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “this must all seem like a lot.” The look on his face spoke of pleasant surprise more than anything else. “I… don’t need… to explain.” He stumbled through the words, eyes fixed on her own, reading the unspoken words between them, the things she could say with just a look.

Of course there was no need to explain, he assured himself. Being the father of two princes would only make him a target for unwanted attention and, as far as his title went, anyone could see that he had the respect of his men in spite of it. Malcolm had wanted to earn it the hard way. He was not the type of man to sit still or be content to accept something that wasn’t deserved. Elyna struck him as the same kind of individual, which perhaps was what had drawn him to her in those early days. She had always been attentive and alert during their lessons and patrols. She didn’t make excuses and got on with the assignments even when the conditions weren’t favourable.

Malcolm turned his hand over to offer it to the woman. “Come dance with me?” He asked, it seemed easier than talking.

A row of partners had lined up in the middle of the hall as the musicians started the next song. The dance was easy, casual, a walk at best in which couples extended their right arms, hands barely touching as they walked a slow circle about one another before joining the line again and stepping apart. The left arm would then be extended as they went the opposite way. If not already known by heart, the dance was very easy to learn on the spot and, as one amongst many, any mistakes were difficult to spot.

The music picked up as couples took one another in a more traditional stance and spread out to dance around the room. Malcolm closed Elyna’s hand in his own and lifted his freehand to position against her side. He twisted to find Vaughn and Lazuli had joined the dancers and were stealing the show. The man chuckled and set his gaze on the woman in front of him once more. He wore an easy smile, something light, almost carefree. Malcolm, however, could sense tension in Elyna.

The pair were stopped mid-dance by Fredric, who had interrupted to ask if he could take over. Malcolm did not challenge the Captain, but made a gracious retreat to return to speaking with Jared and the other nobles. The children were closely shadowed by one of the King's Guards, who was dancing with Katelyn. Emily and Liam had joined the dancers and, stalking the perimeter of the dance floor was Caelin, gaze fixed on her daughter, her features animated with mild surprise.

“I thought I told you not to waste the time of the Duke and his sons,” Fredric warned, “we are meant to be here on the King’s business,” he added, lowering his voice to a whisper, aware that there were representatives from Endor in the hall. “Please don’t disobey my orders again, recruit.”

Fredric stopped at the edge of the dance floor as the song came to an end and it was there the pair were intercepted by Caelin and her husband.

“Could you please excuse us,” Caelin said as she took her daughter’s hand and dragged her towards the food table, which was presently unoccupied.

“Elyna Burhan!” She said, “was that the Duke of Mayce I saw you dancing with? Did he invite you to dance?” She asked, eager and full of questions, but none pertaining to her daughter’s life as a member of the Iron Hand. Of such things, Caelin had little interest. “What do you think of the young prince?” She asked, “did you know he has not yet been promised. Oh, darling, could you imagine? Queen Elyna Krome…” Caelin’s face lit up at the spoken thought she hadn’t dare shared with anyone else.

“Come, dear—I simply must introduce you properly!”

“Caelin,” her husband warned, “Elyna is working, this is no time for one of your schemes.”

Caelin scoffed. “Tis not a scheme, dear husband,” she said, and how dare he accuse her of such, the look on her face protested. “There’s only a handful of summers between her and the boy. It would not be so strange for us to propose a match.”

Pavoo lifted his gaze skyward, as if to beg the strength of the seven. “I must insist that you refrain,” he said, “and let our daughter have her time as promised, for there isn’t much of it left.”

Caelin’s lip formed a tight line. She had been persuaded for now, but she would not be swayed from her own plans and intentions for the girl. A good match was paramount.

“Go,” Pavoo mouthed, “before she changes her mind.”

Elyna found herself staring across at the Duke of Mayce. His eyes sparkled green beneath the hundreds of candles. The dark clothing he wore suited him, and now at least she could understand and recognise the wolf pin that his soldiers wore. It felt like far longer than a season since she had last seen him.

‘I see that you made it home safely,’ she said the first silly thing that came into her head and instantly regretted it. As though it gave away just how frequently she’d thought back over their last encounter. He smiled, but with a familiar sinking feeling, Elyna recognised his unease at seeing her. A discomfort disguised by a polite facade.

Their silence was saved by Owen and Elyna felt herself sinking into her ‘noble self’ and behind the mask that she too, had learnt to wear. She felt distant from herself, from her actions and words as she corrected her expression. Hiding her disappointment and the strange sense of betrayal that pulled at her insides. Disappointment and betrayal that she had no right to feel. Feeling as though she had been punched in the gut, she hid behind all of the manners and the years of lessons that had been endured. The smile she extended to the young Prince was genuine however, she remembered how boring she’d found such introductions at his age. There was an expectation to remember everyone’s name and face, lest you accidentally offend someone years in the future. Another skill that she was terrible at.

‘A pleasure to meet you,’ she replied politely and dipped into a careful curtsey, skirts sweeping to the side in a perfect arc. Elyna nodded to Malcolm. ‘Yes, my Lord,’ she confirmed. It was strange to call him that, instead of Sir but a lifetime of etiquette training would not allow her to make a mistake under the gaze of so many nobles.

Her tongue felt too big for her mouth as she looked up at Jared. She wouldn’t lie, but before she could say yes, Benjamin interrupted and pulled her into a tight one armed hug. It was an embrace she returned, gripping the man as she’d held onto Owen. Ben and Owen. No matter what, they never seemed to change. Her smile expanded as she withdrew and waved to young Noah. The boy was the image of his father and it was clear to see how much the man loved him.

‘It’s lovely to meet you Noah,’ Elyna curled her hands around her wrap. She needed a drink. Or something to do with her hands. Most of all she needed to run away. Introduced briefly to Anna, the woman extended another cautious smile. ‘I’ve heard so much about you, it’s a pleasure to meet you at last.’

There was a moment to breathe and she found herself looking back at the Wolf of Krome. Sorry? She forgot herself for a moment and could only stare at the man. She moved to protest before he continued. Elyna nodded and held his gaze. She swallowed, searching for the right words. Any words.

‘I understand,’ she said simply. It was the truth. Perhaps more than anyone in the world, she could understand why he went by the name of Malcolm Bennett. He seemed to search her gaze in turn. Her eyes started to sting. She blamed the candles and found herself looking over the man’s shoulder instead. Did everyone know? Ben and Owen obviously, and she had spotted Katelyn. But how about the rest of the crew?

As she waited to be dismissed, his offer to dance came as a surprise. She nodded without thinking before silently cursing herself. Her mother always kept an eye on young noblemen and their partners. If she were to dance with Malcolm, she would be stepping into Baroness Burhans spotlight. But it was too late to refuse as Malcolm led the way onto the dancefloor. She considered running away before they reached the other couples, but resisted. Just. It would be unfair to embarrass the man in front of his own domain like that.

Elyna stood straight, her chin lifted as her hands brushed his. She knew the dance. An hour of dance lessons a day since the moment she could walk, meant that she knew all of the formal dances by heart and body memory. The woman didn’t need to think as she moved through the steps. A relief, because her thoughts were spinning.

The tempo changed and she found herself stepping into Malcolms hold. Her dress was too tight, the sleeves too low on her shoulders. She stared at his shoulder and forced herself to breathe. For a moment, she felt as though she had stepped from her living nightmare and into a dream. For a moment, the rest of the room fell away again. The sound of the musicians was distant, the quiet hush that surrounded the pair of them broken only by her own uneven breathing and the whisper of satin skirts along the floor.

‘I wrote,’ she said quietly as she stared at his shoulder, ‘I didn’t send the letters, but I wrote.’ She didn’t have his address and hadn’t wanted to pass correspondence through Owen. Not this time. Elyna lifted her gaze once more, ‘I’m happy that you’ve found time to spend with your family,’ she told the man. His name day wish had perhaps come true.

Before there was opportunity to answer, the Captain moved to interrupt and Elyna found her hand quickly surrendered. She turned and looked up at her new commander before bowing her head. She was admonished for overstepping boundaries and could only offer a small nod. It wouldn’t matter that of all things, she wanted nothing more than to stay away from the nobility. There was little point in arguing or protesting and so she danced with the man.

‘Yes Sir,’ she promised. Two people, Elyna Reyes and Burhan and neither of them wanted to be at this damned dance. Yet she was trapped beneath the candlelight and pulled in two different directions. Before their dance came to an end, Elyna spotted her Mother lingering at the side. She’d thought the night couldn’t get worse. Of course it could.

Pulled away by Caelin, Elyna felt like a ragdoll. Passed from one person to another, pulled here and there with a firm grip on her hand. Owen, Malcolm, Fredic and now worst of all, Caelin Burhan.

As she often was, Elyna was left to watch the exchange between her parents with the same sinking feeling that had accompanied her entire childhood. She hadn’t seen her mother in over a year, and this was what Caelin wanted to speak about. There was little time to answer her mother’s questions before the words were stolen from her lips.

Queen Elyna Krome. Elyna thought she was going to throw up. She took a step in retreat, but her hand was still held fast. Her noble façade slipped and she stared at her mother, horrified. No. She couldn’t be serious. Not in her worst nightmares had she imagined such a match. Shocked into stillness, Elyna could only stare again. Maybe she was just a ragdoll, someone to be manipulated and ordered around.

Pavoo intervened and the young woman looked to her father. She gave a small nod and took another step back in retreat. Pavoo recognised her need for space and led the grumbling Caelin away. Beside the door, Elyna looked out across the great hall. Her eyes hurt, and the air was too hot. Or maybe it was just her. She was burning up from the inside out. She couldn’t breathe. The floor started to spin beneath her and she took another step back, bumping into the wall. She edged along it until her hands curled around the door frame. It was only then that she managed to turn and flee.

Her wrap fell from her arms and she caught it in one hand. It trailed along the ground behind her as she walked blind out of the hall and back into the night. Was she going to catch fire? She concentrated on making it down the wide stone steps and stood on the path between the lanterns. The last starlight faded from the sky, covered by clouds and she closed her eyes. Elyna knew that she couldn’t really run away from the dance. She would have to go back. She wanted to scream, to fight something, to ride away into the darkness and never look back. She turned at the bottom of the steps and saw a stone arch leading to a walled garden.

Stumbling forward she moved towards the garden, her scarf leaving a trail in the frost behind her. The sound of the dance faded away once more and she stood in the darkness and closed her eyes.

‘Please,’ she spoke into the night, ‘Seven…please. If this is my maze, then give me some kind of sign.’

—-

How long did she stand in the garden? The Seven or whoever might have been listening provided no sign or answers. She stood until the burning sensation in her chest had faded and she no longer felt that she could catch on fire. Her fingers and toes were numb with cold. Perhaps this would be where they found her, turned to ice. A sculpture. Elyna pushed away from the shadows and into the light flurry of snow that had started to fall. She wound her way back between the flickering torchlight and climbed the steps once more. Her panic had faded with time and left her weary. There hadn’t been any time to collect a drink or anything to eat before meeting her mother and her stomach felt tight with hunger.

Reaching the top of the steps, Elyna realised that she had lost her wrap. She peered back down at the darkness and was reluctant to return. Instead she slipped back through the wooden doors and into the hall once more. Her mother was busy, speaking with the nobles and it looked like almost everyone else was dancing. The flakes of snow in her hair were quick to melt and vanish.

The young woman took time to gather a plate of food which she carried to a chair nearer to one of the fireplaces, a glass of white wine collected in her free hand. She ate slices of apple and cheese and watched from the corner as the rest of the world moved on. Her friends and colleagues enjoyed their evening. There was a lot of laughter in the room as they celebrated the first snow. Elyna tried hard not to pick out the Duke himself, unwilling to draw his attention and break her promise to her new Captain. She didn’t want to waste Lord Krome’s time.

Finally, the chill left her skin and the numbness fled her fingertips. Her toes wriggled in her shoes. She had watched as some of the nobles started to filter out. Her parents among the first to leave. Her father preferred an early night and although her mother was a force to be reckoned with, Caelin loved her husband. The Captain departed also, but not without a stern look in her direction. Elyna nodded in reply. She wouldn’t disobey orders. With the room quieter, Elyna stood from her chair and returned her plate to the table where it was quickly whisked away. With her single glass of wine in hand, she moved back to the large fireplace. The warmth washed over her, taking away the last of Frosts touch from her skin.

With a small sip of wine, she studied the room once more. Emily and Liam must have departed earlier. Much earlier. She almost smiled and hoped her friend would have privacy in the small barracks.

One of her Skyrider colleagues asked if she would like to dance, followed by a pair of young men from the village. Elyna tried to refuse politely but found herself pulled into similar line dances as the first she had shared with Malcolm.

As before, she moved to the rhythm of the music without thinking and offered an occasional polite smile to her partners. Once each dance came to a close she retreated back to the fireplace and collected her glass. The hour was growing late. It didn’t look as though Emily was coming back. With the Captain and her parents long departed, she wondered why she remained? The woman stifled a yawn behind her hand and looked around for any other Skyriders that might be about to return to the barracks. She didn’t recognise anyone. No one except the Wolf.

Once Malcolm had returned to the group, it was Owen who approached him first. The young man was wearing the kind of smile that Malcolm could not resist but reply in kind with. Owen had always been such a joy to be around, like the sun after a gloomy long day of rain. He had a way of lighting up a room with his very presence.

“It was nice to see you dancing,” Owen said.

“What do you mean?” Malcolm asked, “I always dance at these things.”

“All right, let me rephrase,” Owen countered, “it was nice to see you dancing with someone you like for a change.”

Malcolm turned around to watch the rest of the dancers, his eyes on Elyna who had been taken from him by one of the other Captains, her own he believed. “Yes it was,” Malcolm agreed.

Owen smirked, his mind working overtime. What could he do to help bring the two of them together again? How long would the Skyriders be based in Mayce before they were expected to leave again?

The brothers watched as the dance ended and Elyna was pulled aside by one of the noble women. Pavoo Burhan looked their way, possibly due to something that had come up in conversation, Malcolm imagined, which caused the pair to turn on instinct, as if they had not been looking across the hall at all.

“Why are the Burhan nobles accosting Reyes?” Owen asked.

“I have no idea,” Malcolm said.

Jared approached the pair, having witnessed the concern on his friend’s face. “What’s wrong?” He asked. The man kept his voice low, low enough that only the brothers could hear him.

“There’s nothing wrong,” Malcolm told him.

“We were just watching the Burhans talking with Reyes,” Owen explained.

“Ah,” Jared said, having already put the puzzle together, he imagined his friends had too and did not bother repeating what he had worked out. “A strange family,” he said.

“They seem kind enough in my experience,” Owen replied.

“And what expertise would that be?” Jared asked.

“Well they haven’t caused any trouble and they were both very polite upon our introduction earlier in the day.”

“Hm.” Jared hummed.

Malcolm and Jared shared a look, what was it his friend was not saying, Malcolm wondered. He smiled and let it go. “Have you tried the wine?”

“My wife and I are on our second bottle.” Jared laughed.

The dancers were forgotten as the men went back to socialising and drinking wine. The children ran around the hall playing, making it difficult for the guards to keep tabs. Marcus stood about with the adults, trying to appear interested by the things they said. He dared not look at his father, who encouraged him to go and play each time their eyes met. The Duke knew nothing of court etiquette, Marcus had been convinced by his grandfather, who had explained on a number of occasions that some men were leaders and others were made to follow. His father was not to be a leader of men and therefore could not understand the complexities Marcus faced, even as a boy, or so the child had convinced himself.

When Marcus was tired of the dance and the guests in attendance, he excused himself and retired to his quarters, his brother in tow and four royal guards. Jared’s wife was next to retreat to their wing of the keep to put the girls down to bed, closely followed by Anna and Noah.

Malcolm had danced with a few more of the guests in attendance, but couldn’t help but realise his brother had been right, that there had only been one girl he had extended an invitation to all night. By each of the others, the suggestion had come from them. He was surprised when Lady Burhan asked, but found that she was a capable dancer who was full of compliments for his boys.

At the end of the dance, she requested to speak in private with the Duke, something Malcolm found difficult to refuse after the woman had been so very kind. He led her into the library and was followed by Jared and Benjamin, both of which stood guard on either side of the door.

Malcolm took up one of the leather chairs at the work table and Caelin sat across from him. Lord Burhan was stopped at the door by Benjamin, having tried to follow the pair after noticing their absence from the hall. Benjamin denied the man, turning him away from the private ordinance with the Duke.

“I’m sorry, m’lord, I’m sure they will be back any moment now,” he said.

Pavoo paced about the length of the dessert table, scanning the room in search of his daughter, only able to guess what his wife was up to.

“A match?” Malcolm said, “between your daughter and my son Marcus?”

“That’s what I’m proposing,” Caelin confirmed.

“I’d like to meet her,” Malcolm said, “at the very least.”

“You have,” Caelin told him, “you danced with her tonight.”

Malcolm looked at a loss. “Lady Burhan, I danced with a number of guests tonight, I insist you be more specific.” None of them, he thought, young enough to marry his son.

Caelin chuckled as if the man were telling a joke. When she realised he was serious, she sat speechless for a moment. “Elyna,” she said, “the two of you—.”

“Reyes?” He interrupted the woman.

Jared raised a brow, surprised his friend had not put one and one together. He remained silent, however, with nothing to add in the presence of the woman’s mother.

Malcolm opened his mouth to protest, to call the idea preposterous and the woman herself mad for even suggesting it. Her daughter was an independent young woman with a life of her own… who had already lived certain experiences not befitting a noble, experiences his son was not yet old enough to understand or make decisions on.

The tall, dark haired man supposed Caelin knew nothing of this. He sighed, knowing it was not his place to tell her. “That explains the lessons,” Malcolm said to himself.

“Lessons?” Caelin asked. “I do beg your pardon, lord—what lessons?”

Malcolm, having realised all of the sudden that he was not alone, waved a hand to dismiss the remark. “Lady Burhan, I will consider your offer and send word via letter before the end of the season.”

“Oh nonsense!” Caelin challenged, “you must come and visit our home in Burhan. Bring the children. I promise you the boys will adore it.”

Malcolm stood up in place of reply and thanked the woman for her time. Caelin got to her feet, surprised the Duke considered the conversation at an end already and saw herself out. Too embarrassed to stick around, she collected her husband and made for the door.

“What did you do?” Pavoo asked.

“We are staying in the village!” Caelin snapped. “I refuse to share a roof with that man. He is so rude, so very rude!” She protested.

“Which man, the Duke?” Pavoo asked.

“Of course the Duke, who else!”

Pavoo smirked to himself while he patted his dear wife’s hand with his own. “There, there,” he told her. Whatever Caelin had offered, Pavoo thought, the Duke had been wise enough not to accept.

Malcolm thanked a lot of the guests personally for making an appearance at the dance as they made their way from the hall. He sent a handful of guards to escort his guests back to the village with the fresh snow outside working against them. This left the hall relatively empty.

The Duke noticed Elyna standing beside one of the fireplaces on the opposite side of the hall and crossed the large space to take her by the arm and lead her into the library. He shut the door behind them and pointed for her to sit without saying a word. Malcolm paced back and forth, a finger and thumb touching his teeth as if he were resisting the urge to indulge an old habit of chewing his nails under stress.

He looked at the girl and stopped in the middle of the room between her and the door. All this time he had accepted charge of a noble he had no idea about, though he was quite sure Yvan did. Malcolm was at a loss for words. How could the Captain work against such a sweet girl… how could he ruin her reputation and the best chance at a good marriage like that? How could he be so selfish, so careless. If word got out now…

Malcolm knew what he needed to say, knew he had to get Elyna to convince her mother that there was no match to be found between herself and his son. He also knew that this had to be done before word got back to King Atler, who may just find the match favourable.

“No,” he said, “no, no, no,” Malcolm muttered. “You can’t!”

He went back to pacing, only to pause with his back to her, hands raised above his head. He stitched his fingers together and let them come to rest upon a soft bed of black curls. He let out another breath, the room was dark save for a lone candle burning away in the protection of a silver dish in the middle of the table.

A strange idea crept into the forefront of his thoughts, one that made him blink and turn about to face the girl. “Marry me?” He said. All of the colour had drained from his face, his smile was gone and his kind green eyes had a look of sadness about them. “Don’t…” he stopped her before she could protest, “at least sleep on it.”

About to take her leave, Elyna turned to see Malcolm striding across the hall towards her. Her instinct was to smile at the man in friendly greeting, but the expression on his face forbade that. Surprised by his actions, Elyna trusted the man enough that she followed without a word of complaint. His hand was firm on her arm, demanding but not cruel.

Worry curled in the pit of her stomach, doubling as he led her into a darker room. Her eyes adjusted to the lower light and she stared at the books that lined the shelves and realised that he had led her into a library, alone. Her throat was tight with unease and she sank as directed into one of the high-backed leather chairs. Elyna watched the man with growing concern. Perched on the edge of the seat, both hands rested on the same chair arm. She lent forward to watch him pace. Even without a fire burning, the room was warm and cosy. Intimate with just the small flickering light from the candle.

Had someone told him about her trip to the garden? She knew that she wasn’t supposed to explore the grounds in the dark, but she had just needed some air. Surely he wouldn’t be so...angry about that? Was he even angry? She searched his face, anxious to find some answers but couldn’t read his expression. Something which became even more impossible when he turned his back on her. His words didn’t make any sense. Was he Ill?

If Elyna would admit it to herself, his behaviour frightened her. But she trusted the man who had always been kind and so she stayed, waiting for the inevitable axe to fall or bad news to be delivered. Her heart drummed in her throat, ears pounded and the horrible burning sensation made itself at home in her chest.

His next words had her on her feet. What?! Elyna stared at the man, dumb with shock. Was he mad? Why would he play such a game as this? Her hands fell to her sides. In the single light of the candle he looked at her with such despair, the lines of his features focused and intent. It was her own insane reaction that caused most shock. Yes. A large part of her screamed silently, desperate to answer.

Why was there never enough air in the room? As it usually did in his presence, the rest of the world faded away. Elyna didn’t know herself as she approached the man, her gaze fixed on his. Had time stopped? She laid one hand on his chest for balance, steadying herself and afraid her legs would give way. The other hand she rested on his right shoulder. Elyna couldn’t look away from his gaze and the silent loneliness there. Or was it merely a reflection of her own turmoil?

‘Please...please don’t look at me like that.’’ She breathed, searching his features. She couldn’t stand the pain that she saw. Inevitable as the falling snow in Frost, she rose onto her toes. Her kiss brushed against his mouth in a featherlight touch. Cautious and uncertain as it was bestowed. Didn’t he know how he drove her crazy?

Forced to breathe, the woman suddenly startled and withdrew. Her hands drew back to her lips as she took a step in retreat. Her face and neck were burning with embarrassment and she turned away from the man. Shaking hands were set on her waist.

‘I’m sorry...I…’ how could she explain? Elyna forced herself to turn back. She threaded a hand through her hair. Her lashes were lined with tears.

‘Mal...I can’t,’ no matter the strangeness of his proposal that had come with all the surprise of a shooting star, Elyna thought she knew the man well enough that maybe he was serious. That this wasn’t a game. Knowing she should keep a distance between them, Elyna still couldn’t help closing the gap again. She shouldn’t touch him, but she couldn’t seem to stop that either. She collected one of his burly hands and held it gently between her own. She studied the weather-worn skin and inhaled.

‘If I could be anyone,’ she had to say this, had to say it quickly. It would be the end of her freedom and the breaking of another promise. But he deserved better than secrets. ‘If I could be anyone, I would be Elyna Reyes. A girl with her whole life and choices before her…’ she swallowed.

‘But I’m not. My name is Burhan. I’m...I am Lady Elyna Burhan.’ She drew a breath and continued before she the urge to run away took over. She couldn’t look up at him, as surely he realised the true price of her relationship with Yvan. The man had taken an innocence that wasn’t his to claim. She couldn’t stand to see the horror in his face. She had betrayed her birthright.

Unaware that the man before her already knew such details. Elyna persevered in her explanation, ‘my parents, Caelin and Pavoo attended the dance tonight,’ she struggled against the increasing tightness in her chest, ‘I’m a disappointment in every way to my Mother. I’m not - I’m not the daughter that she deserved,’ her brows drew together, but Malcolm deserved to know. ‘I was allowed to be a Skyrider, if no one discovered who I was. So I didn’t embarrass her. I was, I was allowed some freedom and in exchange I - I,’ the words failed her. ‘I... the future is not in my power to gift.’ She lifted her eyes to his.

‘I cannot accept your proposal,’ her voice broke. ‘Even if...if from the moment I met you I...’ what was she saying? What was she admitting to? Perhaps, something the man had felt too given his sudden question.

Her lips pursed together in a woeful line and she steadied herself. Her grip on his hand was gentle, but it remained her lifeline. ‘You deserve so much happiness. You deserve so much more than I can offer you.’

She lifted the hand she’d held so gently and pressed a kiss to the back.

He deserved more than the Butchers whore.

Her kiss had found the edge of his mouth. What was she doing, he questioned himself for a split second. What would he be accepting to condone such a kiss? He was kind, he remembered her saying the season before on his thirtieth name day. Girls like Elyna Reyes didn’t want kind men, they fell for monsters who could only feign qualities such as kindness. She wanted a man who would take her in a lone dark room and have one of his loyal guards sneak her out later. There was nothing exciting about stability and title, unless that title was Queen of Renmere…

A chaste kiss to the back of his hand sealed her decision, which caused the man to pull away, hands raised for a moment before they fell at his sides. The gesture said enough, told of his unwillingness to hear anymore excuses. All he had asked was that she sleep on his offer, but Elyna Reyes had already made up her mind under the guise that her parents would do it for her. He felt every bit of shame that followed her rejection and chose to remain silent, even as his mind raced. His heart struck a firm and fast rhythm in his chest, and his mouth was dry.

“Thank you for attending tonight, Lady Burhan,” Malcolm said, by way of dismissal. “Please, let me find a guard to escort you to the barracks.”

He left the room then, blind, the familiar walls around him a blur. His actions were automatic, door, hall. “Guard!” He called.

It was Owen who came to his summons. “Brother?”

“Please escort Lady Burhan to the barracks,” Malcolm said.

“La—,” Owen stopped himself in a split second moment of shock. “Yes, of course,” he said. “Right this way.”

The trio parted, with Malcolm taking the stairs to his room. He stumbled on the first step, and hated every step after that.

Owen left the main hall with Elyna in absolute silence. Why had the two of them been in the library alone together. Was she really a lady? A Burhan no less? So that was where he knew her brother from, Owen thought, quite sure they had met somewhere at a dance.

Without looking at the girl, Owen asked, “how did you like the dance?”

The snow was a few inches thick now and the temperature had dropped to the uncomfortable level of freezing. Owen offered the lady his cloak. “It’s cold,” he said, “you must be too.”

Upstairs, Malcolm rushed to light the candles around his room and sat at his writing desk. He shook the inkwell and threw back the small metal lid to dip his quill in the black pool of ink. He penned his denial of Caelin’s proposal with haste and below that, gave the exact reason for his decline. There was a vicious rumour that had made its way through his inner circle of knights that Lady Burhan had relations with the married man she had served under before being transferred to the Skyriders. Malcolm had stated that he would tell no one else of the woman’s transgressions, unless Caelin chose to persist that a match be struck between his son and her daughter.

He threw down the quill and stared at the letter, his handwriting was a state… letters looped far bigger and faster than they usually were with the speed of which he had put them to paper, immortalising the woman’s sins. Malcolm closed his eyes and swallowed his guilt. He balled up the parchment and fed it to the nearby flames of the fireplace. The Duke rewrote his letter, this time without mention of Elyna. A thanks, but no thanks in the kindness way he knew how. He left the ink to dry on the page before it was folded. A well of black wax he had heated over the fireplace was pushed into shape by a wolf head seal and the letter was passed on to the guard outside his door to deliver first thing at dawn.

He hadn’t responded to her kiss. The instinctive reaction to the proposal. It should have been her warning sign. And instead she had shared her darkest secrets and the thoughts that crippled her days with the man and left her heart exposed. She had expected rejection, but hadn’t expected it to hurt as much as it did.

Truly he was disgusted to learn of her deceit. Elyna watched his features, confused at first as he gave no response. His words fell like weights into the room and landed between them. She wouldn’t cry. It was to be expected.

‘It was my pleasure, Sir.’ She replied politely and found that she could no longer meet his gaze. Her hands held at her sides, she flinched at his shout and moved silently to walk beside Owen. Why did this hurt so much? She barely knew the man. His offer had been out of the blue, spontaneous and he had clearly regretted it. He hadn’t even wanted to kiss her. How could he have wanted to marry her?

Owen spoke as they walked, but Elyna didn’t hear the man. Only looking up as they reached the barracks. Numb to the world she lifted her hand in farewell before turning and making her way through the barracks to the small room that she had been assigned.

——

The Baroness and Baron Burhan were quick to depart the valley next morning. Less than a bell mark after a letter had been delivered to Caelins hand.

A small party of Skyriders took to the air in the mid-morning, soaring up into the skies and wheeling away on the backs of Volarean.

It was a small Skyrider with short blonde hair who approached the Keep and made quiet enquiries with one of the servants. Emily requested a brief audience with the Duke and waited patiently in the hallway, hands held behind her back for as long as was required.

Alone with the man, Emily looked him over and her silent rage seemed to rise from the woman’s core. She gripped her hands tight behind her back and drew a breath in order to bring herself under control.

‘What did you do!?’ She demanded as soon as she could find her voice. Emily struggled to keep herself from shouting, but her pain was clear.

‘What did Elyna tell you? She told you her name?! And you...you told your Brother?’ She took a step forward. Clearly he didn’t understand the depth of his betrayal. ‘She trusted you.’

‘It was all I could do to stop her handing in her resignation this morning and leaving with her parents!’ Why Elyna had chosen to break her promise and reveal herself to the man, Emily couldn’t fathom. All she knew, was that somehow, by any means possible she needed to stop her friend. It had taken everything she had to convince Elyna to ride with the Skyriders on their scouting mission. A final flight. But Emily knew full well that the Lady would return the next day and hand in the letter that was already penned. She would give up the one thing that she had, because she had told Malcolm bloody Krome her name.

The table in the library had been exchanged for something a lot bigger, big enough to seat ten men. A handful of benches made for adequate seating and at the head and tail of the table, the high backed leather chairs were positioned, one taken up by the Duke, the other by Cage Endor’s eldest son, Ted Endor. Jared Warrick sat to Malcom’s left, seated across from Owen Bennett, with Benjamin Beaumont at his side. A couple of Jared’s and Ted’s most trusted men took up the rest of the space at the table.

“Plant wheat,” Malcolm suggested.

“In every field?” Jared asked.

Malcolm shook his head. “Nay, but the majority. Andaris will feel their loss this season for the next two or three winters at least.”

“There’s money to be made,” Benjamin assured the Baron.”

Jared looked to be giving the suggestion some thought. “And what of your father’s new mines?” He asked, pointing a look at Ted Endor.

Ted leaned back in his chair. He was a stocky man, round in the belly from too much beer and square in the shoulder, with short, thin legs. He stroked his rusty brown beard and hummed in contemplation. “This time next year before we see any profits,” Ted explained, “Atler sells most of his slaves overseas or recruits them into his armies, unlike the last king.”

The table of men turned to look at Malcolm, as if to seek confirmation that this was so. “It’s true,” the Duke agreed, “Atler is very new-age in his approach.”

“I will lend you some men,” Jared suggested.

“Yes, as will I,” Malcolm echoed.

“What’s in it for you?” Ted asked. The leather chair creaked under the weight of him as he leaned back, looking much like a king himself.

“Discounted iron,” Jared said. “Warrick is sick of relying on the capital for second hand gear.”

Ted looked at Malcolm. “Well?”

“I merely request Endor’s loyalty and their vote.”

Ted chuckled. “For once it is Warrick who asks less of me and my family.”

Jared grinned. “He has Warrick’s loyalty and my father’s vote.”

“Very well then,” Ted agreed. “I suppose you want something in writing?”

“Just the discounted iron and steel ingots,” Malcolm countered. “Only the men in this room will know of the rest.”

Ted nodded. “I’ll have my scribe put together signed scrolls for you both. But I need at least fifty men from each of you.”

Malcolm and Jared shared a look. That was the majority of Mayce’s village. Progress on building would slow too much if he were to agree.

“Seventy five from myself and twenty five from the Duke,” Jared offered.

“Whatever works,” Ted agreed. “What of Burhan?” He asked.

“I had hoped to have their vote,” Malcolm said.

“But?” Ted interjected.

“They were asking too much.”

“Your son?” Ted asked.

Malcolm nodded. “I may have found another way,” he said.

“Oh?” Ted stared at him.

There was a knock at the door and the room fell into silence. A guard opened the door to tell of a woman outside waiting to meet with the Duke. Malcolm rose from his chair, brow pinched. Who could it be, he wondered.

“I think we are all done here?” Malcolm said. “Carry on without me. Enjoy breakfast.”

Malcolm left the room and found one of the young Skyriders waiting for him in the hall. He offered to lead her to his office, and once there, Emily let loose. Malcolm closed the door and moved to sit on the edge of his desk as the woman spoke and threw accusations his way. The Duke opened his mouth to speak, but Emily wasn’t ready to let him have his turn and carried on until there was nothing left to say. After that, she looked as if she wanted to leave post-haste.

“Sorry,” Malcolm said, “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Le’Sark. Emily Le’Sark.”

“Emily, I can tell you care a lot about your friend, which is why I have tolerated your outburst so far, but there is a certain way to speak to a lord, and I’ll remind you that it is not this.”

Emily bowed her head, she knew she had overstepped, but she refused to apologise.

“Elyna did not tell me anything I didn’t already know,” he explained. “Her mother met with me before I spoke with her last.” He said no more, as if he had given explanation enough. Caelin was difficult for anyone to forget, especially upon first introductions.

Emily closed her eyes, her mouth pulled in a tight line.

“Perhaps it was wrong of me to ask Lady Burhan to marry me, we are all but strangers after all,” Malcolm admitted.

Emily looked up in silent shock. “Marry you?”

It was Malcolm’s turn to look guilty. “I know, it was a foolish suggestion,” he agreed, “selfish even. I saw an opportunity to let her keep her freedom and spare her a marriage unfitting of a woman such as herself.”

“One of her mother’s matches…” Emily mouthed. “To who?”

“My son,” Malcolm said, without hesitation. Though he knew it was dangerous to give life to such rumours, something told him he could trust this passionate young woman to keep her friends affairs close to her chest. “The role of Queen is a lonely one,” he said, “and dangerous were she to bear no children… given their age difference… it would be years before they were married.”

“Warrick’s whip…” Emily said. “Caelin has always struck me as an ambitious woman, but even that is a stretch.”

“Elyna denied my proposal. She was right to do so,” Malcolm said. “She should marry for love, not settle for comfort. She has probably already spoken to her mother by now.”

Emily shook her head, she knew Elyna had not left the barracks that morning until it had been time to fly, which was why she believed it was she and not her mother who had given her identity away. It was a lot to take in. “So her mother gave her name away… and Elyna thinks…”

“Yes,” Malcolm confirmed.

“Her mother will demand her home then…”

Malcolm was silent, with little more to add. He had nothing to do with their deal and no power to stop it.

“Thank you for your time, m’lord,” Emily said.

The Duke raised a dark brow. It seemed Le’Sark had experienced a change of heart. “My pleasure, Miss Le’Sark.”

Emily went to the door and paused, hand on the cold metal handle. “If Elyna reconsidered?”

Malcolm stood up. “I don’t think I’m what she wants,” Malcolm said, convinced that had he been anyone else, someone more like Yvan Yilmaz.

“What’s in it for you?” Emily asked.

Malcolm almost laughed. “Believe it or not you’re the second person to ask that of me today.”

“Perhaps it speaks to your character,” Emily accused.

Malcolm grimaced. “Perhaps nothing,” he said. Maybe love one day, he thought. “At most, security… at least, the continued protection of the future king of this country.”

Emily said nothing. She nodded then and left the Duke’s office to make a hasty retreat to the mews.

The scouting group of skyriders returned safely as expected on the 19th of Frost. The mighty Volarean dropping like eagles from the sky. The mission had gone as well as expected, the mines location had been mapped from above the clouds. Preparations were soon underway for more extended expeditions that would take a handful of skyriders away for longer and longer periods of time as the heavier snows started to fall.

It was the morning of the 21st that Owen convinced his brother to take a final ride through the valley, while the snow was still a thin enough layer to be safe for the horses. Clouds gathered in a promise that soon thick snow would blanket the valley. Pale sunlight kissed the top of the mountains that surrounded the valley. The trees had been stripped of their leaves and the air was crisp. Any exhale turning instantly to thin mist.

At the edge of the village was a small copse of trees and a rider waited beneath the empty branches. On a borrowed horse, Elyna couldn’t help but fidget with the reins, turning the leather in her gloves. The mare was a beautiful bay with long slender legs and a patient temperament. Still, the horse huffed as it’s rider straightened in the saddle. The Lady wore a fur-lined cloak of forest green, the hood cast back around her shoulders. Her hair had been braided around her crown and fastened neatly at the nape of her neck. Her cheeks were touched pink with cold against pale skin, that had lost its tan from Nejem; although a few dark freckles remained stubbornly on her nose. Her dark leggings were tucked into polished riding boots and her tunic was neat. Every inch a Skyrider, her sword was buckled to her hip.

She hadn’t been sure how many guards would accompany the Duke on his ride and looked the small group over nervously, though her gaze returned and fixed on the man in their centre. Breathe, she reminded herself, you can breathe. Elyna nudged her horse forward and bowed her head in greeting.

‘Good Morning, your Grace...I apologise for our deceit.’ She glanced around Owen who merely grinned in response. Elyna swallowed, grateful that there was enough distance between the party that her words would not be easily heard. ‘I had hoped to speak with you?’ She continued and ran her fingers against her hair, smoothing the strands that had already escaped. ‘With all proprietary of course,’ with a chaperone at least. Because he was the Duke of Mayce here and she was Lady Burhan and it would be inappropriate for them to ride out together. Elyna held his gaze and the horse shifted beneath her again, betraying the uncertain fluttering of her heart.

“Not that one,” Owen protested. “Honestly, brother, you have no style.”

Malcolm frowned at the figure in the mirror looking back at him. “A ride?” He countered, “how stylish does one need to be for a ride?”

“You’re the Duke of Mayce, act like it,” Owen encouraged. “Here, try the black one on again.”

Malcolm pulled the black tabard over his dark woollen undergarments. He tightened the side buckles and fitted his sword belt to his hips. “How about now?”

“Perfect.” Owen nodded.

The pair walked to the stables accompanied by two guards. Malcolm’s horse was already saddled and ready to go. The stable boy gave him a leg up and led the horse out into the cold. It hurt to fill his lungs too quickly, the chill of Frost long settled into the mountain village.

The four of them rode across the open fields and skirted the long stone fences that looked as old as the mountains themselves. Owen took the lead as they moved beyond the bridge that led over a frozen riverbed and out into the wild, untamed land of Mayce. Malcolm kicked his horse to keep up with Owen, but his brother seemed to have other ideas, and spurred his mount forwards into a gallop.

By the time they reached the small copse of trees, Malcolm’s cheeks were flushed red with colour, heart pounding and body breathless. A small knot formed at the centre of his bro as he squinted to make out the rider ahead of them. Owen pulled back and raised an arm to slow the guards, leaving Malcolm to trot forward on his own.

It wasn’t until Elyna made her apologies that Malcolm realised he was on his own. He twisted in the saddle to find Owen a few yards back, the guards at his side. Malcolm experienced a momentary pang of panic as Elyna revealed his brother had played a hand in her deceit. It wasn’t like Owen to trick him, even for sport.

He sat back in the saddle, the leather creaking as his trousers moved against it under strain. Gloved fingers combed wavy black hair from his face. “Lady Burhan,” he greeted the woman, surprised she had not followed her parents back to Burhan after his meeting with her friend, Emily Le’Sark. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Elyna studied the man’s face. It was hard to believe that just three days ago he had asked her to marry him. Now, if he felt anything other than genial towards her, it was impossible to tell. He seemed so calm and at peace in the world. As though he did this every day. Yet her heart and stomach were in knots and she wasn’t sure if she could tell the difference between them anymore.

‘I hoped we could ride,’ she admitted. At least he hadn’t taken one look at her and galloped away. ‘And maybe speak a little,’ words held on her tongue and she swallowed them. Coward, she told herself. He was so handsome in the morning light. His face lean and chiselled. How could he not realise how much he looked like the wolf of his name?

‘Where you lead, I will follow?’ She gestured to the land before them. It was his domain. He would know the safe paths to travel even in Frost, and she was a stranger to these wild and wonderful lands.

They rode a while, and it was hard not to stare at the beautiful surrounds. But more often, her gaze was drawn back to the Wolf. As promised, Elyna nudged her horse to follow his as they set off keeping pace.

It wasn’t long before she realised that she needed to speak, before her courage fled completely. Checking that Owen and the guards had maintained a safe distance, she filled her lungs.

‘Emily told me, a little of what you discussed - or...all of it...I think.’ She blurted out.

‘She had no right to accost you like that. I’m sorry for her actions - I had no idea that she might…’ Elyna paused and looked skyward. She took a breath and shook her head.

Elyna looked across at the Duke, stray strands of hair picked up and twisted on the wind. ‘You knew who I was before you pr- proposed,’ she struggled with the word, not one she had often used. Her hands shook on the reins. Cheeks stained pink with embarrassment. She should have waited, should have had a normal conversation or something first. Whatever that was. How could she talk about the weather when this was on her mind?

‘I believed that once you knew how far I had fallen and the depths of my mistakes, you couldn’t possibly want me. But you already knew…’ she searched his expression and wondered if he understood how much it meant to her. Grateful that Owen and the guards had fallen back.

It became infinitely harder to look at the man, but she forced herself. Brave, Ely, she told herself, be brave.

‘That you had proposed without knowing my full shame, was my concern. That, and the arrangement I made long ago with my parents, I believed made any acceptance impossible…’ this was where it grew hard to breathe. She searched Malcolm’s gaze, hoping for some kind of sign or understanding. How many times was she going to embarrass herself infront of this man?

‘My father has given me both his blessing, and the freedom to choose in this,’ she exhaled. ‘If your offer still stands, if you would still have me. Malcolm, I would be yours.’

Malcolm waved back to the party to bid them to stay before he turned his horse to head down into the valley. The chestnut mare threw her head back in disapproval. Red did not enjoy any amount of standing in the cold weather. Once they were on the move again, the mare worked her way up to an easy trot, and gave a nip as Elyna’s horse got too close in an attempt to keep up. Malcolm tightened the reins to keep the animal in line.

Elyna spoke of her friend and Malcolm couldn’t help but offer a coy smile at the memory. Emily had been so cross, which had all seemed rather unexpected upon reflection. He remembered the shock he had experienced and wondered if the young Skyrider had been able to read it on his face. Once Elyna had said her piece, he slowed his mount to a walk and turned to look at her.

The woman seemed to find it difficult to do the same, keeping her eyes down. Malcolm reached out and took one of her reins, which caused the bay horse to come to a stop alongside his own, a move that forced the woman’s eye.

He didn’t quite know what to say or how to string the words together, but knew only that he wanted to speak them. “Lady Burhan it would be my honour,” Malcolm said.

The rein was released and the horses ushered to continue on. Malcolm’s stomach was turned in something that felt akin to excitable flips. His nerves matched only by his silence following the brief few words of acceptance. This changed things, he thought, for both of them. What did Elyna expect of a husband, and he of a wife? Would this really be a marriage of comfort and convenience or should he hope for more?

“Will you join me for dinner tomorrow night?” He asked. “I would like to discuss your expectations…” he said, sure the girl would have some, given her agreement with her parents. “Or perhaps you would like more time to think on things?”

Malcolm looked back to see the guards had chosen to disobey Owen, not wanting to let the Duke too far out of sight. He looked at Elyna then and smiled. “Dare I say, I don’t think I will look at my brother the same way,” he said, shaking his head. “He’s never been able to keep a secret in his life, much less deceive me.”

How many times would he do this to her? Steal the air from her lungs with just a look, a touch or a few words so simply spoken. She held his gaze as the man’s answer was given. Certain that her own were filled with wonder as she stared. Her lips parted as though to speak, yet she found there were no words. None that she dared speak at risk of ruining such a moment.

Had a fire been lit within? The kiss of frost on her exposed skin was less, the colours of the world brighter despite the season. In a few moments the future had changed in a way she had never dared to hope. Could their be a future that she found happiness in? Could Malcolm be happy with her, truly?

The horse moved on without her instruction, following Malcolm’s mount as Elyna tried to make sense of what had just happened. The woman had forced herself to be brave but had feared the worst with little hope for an acceptance.

Dinner? It seemed so normal.

She looked up at the man with a smile. ‘I would like that,’ she answered quickly, before he could take his offer back. The expression faltered however before she laughed. Elyna pulled her fingers through a lock of stray hair before pressing her hand against her forehead. Aware that the guards approached she bit her lip, ‘this is...somewhat embarrassing,’ she hid a smile behind her hand. ‘My commander has forbidden me from speaking with you.’ The woman explained. ‘I don’t think that he returns from the skies before tomorrow, but…’ she grimaced. For the short term, she had no doubt that she and Emily would both be in trouble for their actions. It was a price she was willing to pay.

Her gaze moved to Owen and she smiled, ‘he didn’t know what I wished to speak to you about,’ Elyna told the man softly. ‘Just that I wished to speak with you…’ Elyna hadn’t wanted to place any pressure on the man. Malcolm could have refused and no one would have known.

She exhaled, there was one more thing she wished to say, but with the guards being so diligent, it would have to wait until the following evening.

“Then I shall make him suffer in keeping this business between us two for a time,” Malcolm said, grinning. He exchanged his smile for something far more tame before Owen approached.

“The guards say we should head back,” Owen announced. “There’s a storm on its way.”

Malcolm looked skyward as if to confirm this. Indeed the clouds looked very heavy and foreboding. “See to it that Ser Reyes is escorted back to the barracks,” Malcolm told the guards. “I will ride back to the keep with Ser Bennett.”

The guards did as commanded, moving to escort Lady Burhan back to the village. Malcolm’s parting look was an easy smile, one his brother’s gaze seemed glued to.

The following evening, preparations had been made by the staff to set up a small but lavish dinner in a separate wing of the keep. It was rare Malcolm joined the majority of the guests staying in the keep for dinner and his boys had grown used to his busy schedule, sometimes only seeing him when it came time to tuck them into bed. He had done exactly that before going down stairs to make his way to the cosy room that overlooked the inner courtyard of the keep.

Elyna had already been led to the room and seated at the table. Their meal, a simple roast chicken and winter vegetables, had been carved up and placed under a shallow silver tray to keep warm. Malcolm had given strict instruction that he and his guest were not to be disturbed earlier in the day. He wanted to speak and for Elyna to be able to talk without constant interruption.

Malcolm had dressed simply in a fresh, white tunic and a dark pair of trousers and boots. His arms were bare from the top of his elbow down. The fireplace in the corner of the room made the air comfortable enough to wear a little less than they were forced to outside.

“Oh good,” he said, by way of greeting, “you haven’t disappeared after yesterday’s surprise meeting.” He teased, having convinced himself Elyna would find some reason to change her mind between then and now.

“I had a little trouble sleeping last night,” he admitted, “perhaps due to all the excitement.”

He sat down at the table and leaned back in his chair, quite comfortable to share the small, intimate space with her. What did he expect from this meeting, Malcolm asked himself, nothing more than the chance to see her again and know the woman’s mind.

“You must have a lot on your mind,” he admitted, “I know I do.”

He busied his hands then with the task of uncovering the meal the staff had prepared for them. The tray and other toppers were set aside and Malcolm offered to pour Elyna a glass of red wine. It didn’t really go with the chicken but it was his preferred choice on a chilly winter's night. He started with her glass before topping up his own. The bottle was set aside and the room fell into such silence that only the hiss and crackle of the fireplace could be heard.

The hours before their dinner passed far too slowly for the woman’s liking. Dragging endlessly as she went about her work as Skyrider before finally being able to bathe and make her preparations. Then, time went too fast, racing as she tidied her hair and dressed. Nervous anticipation made her fingers clumsy and she gave up any elaborate hair styling and left dark locks loose around her shoulders. Surely she had faced the hardest task, in speaking to Malcolm yesterday? So why did she feel like this? Because every time she met the man, she felt like this. Elyna smiled at herself in the small mirror in her rooms. Maybe they really could be happy.

The staff Malcolm employed were too well mannered to pay her anymore than polite attention as they led her to a different wing of the Keep. She wore the dark skirts of the midnight blue dress, having few options for her clothes. But instead of the bodice she wore a neat shirt and tucked it into the waistband. She looked like something between a lady and Skyrider, she hoped. A reminder to herself of who she was. Something of each.

The room was warm enough that she could remove her cloak, jacket and gloves and sat comfortably as she waited, her gaze resting on the door.

He entered and she stood politely, a shy smile pulling at the corners of her mouth before she sat once more, smoothing her skirts as the man set out their plates and wine.

‘I didn’t sleep,’ Elyna admitted, it was impossible not to smile as he admitted excitement. Could that be true? Did he want this as much as she did? ‘Far too much excitement,’ she agreed before he could read anything else into her words. Too often she knew it was easy to misinterpret what she said. Communication was not her strong point.

It was nerves that had her reaching for the wine and testing the flavour. She peered at it in surprise. ‘This must have a good grape,’ she murmured and looked up at the man. ‘But I’ve not heard of it before.’

The meal started, Elyna watched the man from the corner of her eye and found herself too filled with nerves to be hungry, despite the delicious feast before them. She set her fork down and wet her lips.

‘Expectations…’ she studied him. ‘I...I’ll be honest, I always expected that my husband would make several demands of me.’ She swallowed, ‘that I give up my post as a Skyrider and become something of a socialite,’ like her mother. She couldn’t help but grimace though she tried to hide the expression.

‘I was hoping that...you might allow more freedoms and wish to attend less...parties and dances? What... what are your thoughts?’

“Yes, yes,” he agreed, while smiling, “I shall make all these demands of you and more. You must give up everything,” he teased, “and dote on my every will and whim.”

Malcolm stared at the woman, for a split second it seemed as if she had believed him. Malcolm laughed. “Elyna,” he said, dropping his tone to a more serious note, “I am under no illusions… I realise I’m not the kind of man you usually…” he stopped, that had come out wrong.

“What I mean is…” what did he mean, he wondered. Malcolm swallowed. “Be Elyna Reyes,” he said. If nothing else, he wanted that for her.

Malcolm served himself a plate once he had dished Elyna a share and cut into the chicken. He tasted the slow cooked bird before chasing the tender white meat with a sip of the red wine. Indeed it was good, just as Elyna had noted.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t make any promises or demands of each other,” he said, “other than this… that we dare to remain open and honest.” Just as they had been as colleagues, he thought.

Malcolm set the wine down. He wanted to know more, wanted to dig deeper. There had to be more to Elyna Reyes than the simple desire to fly amongst the clouds. “You must have some dreams and aspirations,” he said, “why don’t you start by telling me where you see yourself in two… five… tens years from now?”

Was he being too forward, he wondered, too eager? Would she think him too keen? Had Yvan shown such interest? Malcolm found it hard to imagine the Captain cared about anything or one beyond his station in life and who to step on next to get where he wanted to go. The Duke tried to set aside such thoughts, he would not let Yvan Yilmaz ruin this for him.

Elyna continued to stare at the man as he teased her. There was no doubt that a small part of her was concerned he was serious, but it was a tiny voice and drowned out by an entirely different thought, that she wouldn’t mind doting on his every will and whim. It was a sultry, provocative thought held tightly in check on her tongue. Would that have been flirting? Would she be a flirt to say such things aloud?

He continued and her brow drew with concern. Edging forward on her seat, she moved closer to the man. As close as she could with the table and their dinner between them. What did he mean, the kind of man she usually? There wasn’t a ‘usual’. There had only been Yvan. A man that, when she considered in hindsight, had left her feeling used and naive for her foolish romanticism.

Be Elyna Reyes.

Elyna sat up a little straighter. Her fingers traced the freckled bridge of her nose before she smiled at him.

‘I can do that, I can be Elyna Reyes and you can be Malcolm Bennett?’ She offered hopefully. ‘I always enjoyed spending time with you in the city. I bought a small house,’ she grinned, ‘maybe we can celebrate that one day.’ She blinked as the future truly dawned. Maybe he would stay at her little house. She would need to buy some furniture. ‘Do you see yourself continuing with the Hand as you have been? Living between Andaris and Mayce?’

With a little conversation underway, the tension eased enough that she could eat. The chicken was delicious but she favoured the variety of vegetables, eating slowly with all the care of a well-mannered young Lady. Malcolm’s actions were considered, as she had come to expect from the man.

As he spoke she took the opportunity to drink. Open and honest. She could agree to that, although she had a final admission to make, even though she was terrified of ruining their evening with the mention.

Dreams and aspirations, no easier to answer. Elyna pressed her teeth against her bottom lip and found herself studying her plate.

‘I don’t...I don’t think that you understand,’ she thought carefully about her words. How could she explain this? ‘My whole life, I have never been enough. I…’ her brows drew together once more, ‘I was taught that my existence would...I would cease to be myself upon the marriage of a man my mother appointed. I would be Lady Burhan,’ she extended a graceful arm as though gesturing to crowds, acting the part of a socialite before her expression sobered. Elyna set her glass down carefully and rested both hands on the edge of the table.

‘I never dared to dream what could be beyond that point...why wish for something I could never have? Why break my heart over it? He,’ she gestured to a vague idea of a husband, ‘whoever He would be, would need to correct me to his liking. He or his family would decide.’ It was hard to look across the table top and her gaze lifted to Malcolm’s own plate. Her chest rose quickly.

‘You mentioned expectations and I wanted to be prepared to discuss them with you. I wanted to see you tonight,’ she admitted, embarrassment flushed the base of her neck. ‘I spent the last two days trying to imagine a future where those dreams might be mine, or we could make them together and I...Malcolm,’ she blinked, ‘I’m so afraid to dream those dreams and loose them. What if this is just some cruel trick of fate?’

The words hung in the air with the sound of the fireplace before she shook her head, ‘I’m sorry, I don’t mean to always pull you into some kind of melancholy.’ Elyna forced herself to look up at the man.

Elyna studied the perfection of his features and sank back in her chair once more. She had been open. Now it was time to be honest.

‘There’s just something I wanted to tell you - incase it changed anything for you.’ Her frown returned and she forced herself to fill her lungs, ‘I’m sorry if I ruin this for both of us,’ she grimaced. ‘Emily told me of my mother’s ambitions,’ she would keep this short and sweet. ‘Despite my promise to my parents, I could never have accepted such a match,’ she shook her head and hoped that her horror was clear as she watched him, earnest. ‘I could never be a suitable candidate for - Malcolm I would have told her about Yvan. About everything, I would have told the world to stop that from coming to pass. You don’t have to marry me, to protect your son - not that...I - I don’t...I don’t really believe that would be why you agreed or asked though, at least even if it might be in part- it’s my hope that it wouldn’t be the whole reason.’

‘My father gave permission that I might accept your hand, if offered, on the condition that it would bring me happiness. I believe that, Mal. I believe we could be happy...’

Mal she had said, and everything that came before seemed to be sucked out of his head and swiftly forgotten for a time. Mal. It was so informal and… well, rather sweet. He was quite sure no one had ever shortened his name. He looked across at Elyna and realised she expected a reply, something to assure her that her fears were just that, fears, and did not require space in her heart or mind. But what to say, how to convince her of that?

It had taken him the better part of a year to stop thinking about her, to tuck away her letters and convince himself there had been nothing there to dwell on. Elyna Reyes was beautiful, but she was more than that. She was kind to a fault and had a heart of gold. She was difficult to work out, though he found her motivations quite clear. She wanted to be more than her life so far had been dedicated to. He hoped she could grow to love him, as he feared he did her.

“Your mother's proposal surprised me,” he admitted, “but I dare say the alternative suits me just fine.”

He didn’t smile, but took a moment to meet her gaze, eating utensils set aside for the time being. Open and honest, he reminded himself, the young woman before him deserved that much for voicing her fears and airing her concerns. Open and honest.

“I know a little something about living someone else’s design. I never chose to be noble, that came after I was married. I was probably a little younger than you are now,” he admitted. “I knew nothing of court etiquette or tradition. When my late wife passed suddenly, this life had convinced me I had to be Malcolm Krome, the Duke of Mayce, even when I hid behind the hard work and long hours as Bennett. There was that expectation that I act a certain way and refrain from certain things. She’s been gone for eight years and I’ve been right here, trying to work out how to live without her, while being constantly reminded to smile and dance and remain frozen in time because that suits everyone else, that honours her family and her memory.”

Malcolm swallowed. He did not want to sound bitter, he knew his title was an honour, one his father in law had bestowed in good faith. Eight years. It was about three times longer than the pair had actually been married. Malcolm almost laughed at the memory. He had been married at the age of eighteen to a woman he didn’t share a bed with until the day he turned twenty. Something he could never speak of, not unless he wished the nation to learn the horrible truth, that Marcus was not really his son.

“Neither I nor Bennett have any expectations,” he assured the woman sat across from him. “But I hope… sometimes, you’ll cave to the odd dance… with me,” he said.

It was her turn to listen. Their marriage suited him. Elyna nodded and continued his careful study of his features. Did she maybe watch him too much, would he start feeling under scrutiny or that she was staring? Elyna dipped her gaze to his jaw instead and lent back in her chair.

She listened and listened well to the words that he shared, and those that she suspected were left unspoken. Her own life had been challenging. She had known from an early age that she was not suitable for the life of a noble. She had known that misery was the inevitable outcome, but at least she had known and her mother had dedicated years to giving her the skills to survive in the higher ranks of society. Even if Elyna felt that she had to close herself away in order to survive. But at least she had known what was coming.

The fire has dimmed a little, but not enough to lessen the warmth of the room. Embers crackled as the ashes started to fall in on themselves. Elyna had long set aside her cutlery and held her fingers against the stem of the wine glass. She could not imagine the pain and confusion of losing one loved so dearly, so young. Of being cast adrift in the world of nobility, without the anchor which had drawn you in as the first place. Nobility was a privilege, but Malcolm has given up a great deal in his marriage. Eight years.

Eight years was a long time. A good part of her entire life could have been captured in eight years. Elyna swallowed, she wanted to assure him that he had honoured the memory of his wife. That he had clearly loved the mother of his children deeply. But how could she comment on such personal matters? At a loss for words, Elyna extended her hand across the table instead, touching her fingers against his.

‘Perhaps we can both learn to live a little for ourselves?’ She suggested softly. Only he would know how best he had honoured his wife. Elyna found that her mouth was dry. She withdrew her hand, if only to take a sip of wine or courage before she stood. Elyna extended her hand once more in invitation.

‘I’ll dance with you,’ she promised and gestured to the space around them. ‘The music isn’t as interesting tonight,’ she smiled sheepishly, ‘but I regret not sharing more dances with you at your invitation…’

Learn to live for themselves for a time. Malcolm considered the suggestion. Then he had been correct in his assumption, Elyna would take her newfound freedom with both hands and run with it. She would live her life and he would live in support of it, cheering from the sidelines. He forced a smile. It was difficult to pull himself from his own thoughts sometimes.

Elyna rose and Malcolm found himself on his feet, the move automatic. Was something wrong? She offered to dance and the meal was forgotten. There had been too many butterflies in his stomach to indulge hunger anyway.

He moved to join her, taking one of her hands. He guided her into a twirl that brought her closer to him, perhaps uncomfortably so, given what she had just said. His free hand found the small of her back over the thin cotton shirt, and migrated to her side as they danced. This particular dance seemed so accustomed to them both that the man swore he could almost hear the music in his head. He hadn’t realised he was humming, that it was all so second nature, until he looked into her eyes.

Malcolm forgot the steps, forgot to move outside of an easy sway. Was this real, would this woman be his wife one day? He raised his hand from Elyna’s side to her temple to drag a lock of hair away from her face. How long had he wanted to do that, to touch the soft tresses of her hair without the cover of gloves. His fingers traced the shell of her ear, the length of her neck.

His hand found her side once more before his senses returned to him and he pushed her away into another slow spin. The urge to kiss her had been far too strong for his liking. This is not what he had intended when he suggested dinner. Anyone could be watching or listening. As it was he had already pushed the boundaries of courtship by allowing the young noblewoman to attend without a chaperone, something her parents had done when they entrusted her into the care of the Captain. If nothing else, Malcolm needed Elyna to know he would respect her.

“You’re a good dancer,” he said, though there was no surprise in his tone. Malcolm had gathered as much from the night of the dance, before they had been interrupted.

Elyna was surprised when her spontaneous offer was accepted. She couldn’t help but smile at the man as she looked up at him. Her hand fit neatly within his. The touch of his palm against her side sent sparks through her middle, causing her breath to catch. She tried to disguise her reaction, but as she often feared in his company he would see the strength of her desire in her gaze. So she stared at his jaw and tried desperately to think of anything except the way his breath tickled her ear. The way he smelt of woodsmoke, old books and the outside. The fact that her shirt now felt far too thin and yet far too cumbersome.

If she’d had any clue to his thoughts the woman would have been dismayed. Having intended that their learning to live for themselves would allow them to be happier, free and able to enjoy one another without fear of the outside world looking in with judgment.

They found their own quiet rhythm and Elyna couldn’t remember a time when she had ever felt so happy. She swayed towards the man, looking up as his hand brushed through a strand of hair. Her breath caught as his fingers grazed her skin. Damn him. Her eyes closed for a moment as the breath held in her lungs. So far he had rejected an advance she had made toward him. A small part of her had wondered if perhaps the painful attraction she felt was one sided. His light touch was the first sign that perhaps her concern was unfounded. Even if he didn’t feel the same way, maybe one day he would?

She had moved into his touch, her leg bumping against his knee before she was spun away.

‘Years of lessons,’ she informed him, ‘rather than any natural skill.’ Dizzy, though less from dancing Elyna smiled. ‘In truth I only enjoy dancing with the right partner,’ she teased gently. ‘But now that I have found one, I admit I would be reluctant to share you.’ She spun slowly back to the man. She had to get her mind out of the gutter. ‘You’ll have to save all of your dances for me.’ Malcolm wasn’t like that, he was a gentleman and she didn’t want him to think that she was…exactly the kind of girl who he’d found naked in another man’s bed.

‘I’ve had few better evenings,’ she looked up at the man once more as they moved. ‘Thank you.’

Malcolm smiled at that, the thought of her not wanting to share him. Unfortunately, given their station in life, there would be many instances where they would be expected to dance, and no doubt, not always with each other. He had a wide, handsome smile that his brothers had told him he didn’t wear often enough. He was the serious one of the three, but then, he had been through a lot in the last few years.

Their little dance ended and he pointed the woman back to her seat by pulling it away from the table for her. Once settled, he returned to his own chair and pushed a piece of roasted carrot around his plate with the back of a fork.

“I have something to tell you,” he told her, “something I think you should hear from me.”

Malcolm leaned back in his chair, his fork set aside once more. “Leonide gave birth to a son at the end of Harvest. The child is not Yvan’s, but the King knew as much before the birth. She is related to the Sultan of Nejem… I don’t know if you were aware. Yvan attempted to kill her when he found out… and let me tell you, it was obvious, even at a few hours old, the boy was clearly a full blooded N’jiin. I was assigned to protect her by order of Atler himself. He has struck a deal with the Sultan. I am not privy to the details… but there will be a vote following the Aurora this season… as to whether or not the Captain should be stripped of his titles and put to death for attacking a noble.”

He looked across the table to try and read the woman’s expression, his own brow knit with concern. “With your parents' vote we would have a majority for no… but I did not make a good first impression with your mother, and I fear if I asked her, the response would be no. I don’t want to ask this of you,” he said, “but I don’t believe the Captain deserves death for his crime of passion.”

Malcolm reached out to offer Elyna his hand, aware she, at one time, had shared strong feelings for Yvan. He wanted her to know that it was okay and that he was doing all he could to stop the hanging from going ahead.

Their dance came to a comfortable conclusion and Elyna sank back into her chair with a smile. Somewhere during the evening her nerves had fled and she found herself hungry. Elyna ate a little more of the chicken, pulling a strip away before taking a delicate mouthful followed by a sip of wine.

Malcolm looked less comfortable. Had she said or done something to break their fledgling peace already? Elyna looked up as he addressed her, brows lifted in surprise. What could he possibly have to share?

What followed had the woman reeling. At first there was a frown of disgust at the mention of Yvan. He had betrayed so much more than her trust. How could she have believed that he and his wife were no longer involved together? Malcolm continued and the story twisted into far darker paths than even she could have expected. Yvan could be a dark man. He enjoyed violence. He enjoyed control.

‘Well that explains...’ she touched her fingers to her neck. Her other hand held gently in place by Malcolm. She stared at the unfamiliar digits. ‘I thought...’

Was this her fault? Was there something she could have done?

Her eyes darkened as she was forced to relive some of the experiences she had shared with the man. Times when she hadn’t felt entirely safe within his embrace. Had she forgotten to breathe again. Dark spots danced in front of her eyes and she could only watch Malcolm.

They would kill him. Elyna stood suddenly. She crossed the room, blind but unable to stand still. The fire that had been so cosy threatened to suffocate. She strayed until she found herself at a window. Staring out at the starlit night she extended a hand and touched it to the cold glass.

‘You’re asking me to chose?’ She suggested quietly. ‘As if the power to make judgement should be mine?’ That’s what he was saying wasn’t it. She could sway the vote. It wasn’t fair. How could she be impartial? She had shared the man’s bed for the best part of two years. He had broken her, body and soul and she was angry with him. So very angry… the kind of anger that burnt beneath and demanded vengeance of some kind. If Elyna ever saw Yvan again, he would not be spared her wrath. She had told herself again and again. The thought of punching the Butcher had given her solace on a number of sleepless nights.

But kill him? Her vengeance had never stretched so far. He had broken the law. What would be the consequence of letting him live? Would something terrible happen with Nejem.

‘Is Leonide...is the baby...are they alright?’ She looked back suddenly, features drawn with concern. ‘What do you need from me?’

He both admired and feared her passion, which spoke of unresolved feelings for the Captain. Elyna left the table to pace the room, wrapped up in the transgressions of her past lover. Did she want to help him or was this something else? Elyna asked after Leonide and the child’s welfare.

“I’m not asking you to choose,” Malcolm corrected her, “I’m telling you that this man will die if your grandparents don’t vote with us on the day. There is no choice,” he said.

Malcolm set the thought of dinner aside, it appeared Elyna was done anyway. He relaxed in the chair, watching her. Without the support of the Duke and Duchess of Burhan, Yvan Yilmaz would simply cease to exist come the new year.

“Leonide and her son are safe. Atler anticipated an attack and ordered that I stay close enough for her to call on whenever she needed. Benjamin was there also, he helped stop Yvan on the day. Why she returned to Renmere with him, I am uncertain. Perhaps she thought things would be different, that he would accept another man’s child because it was what they had wanted for so long. She will return to Nejem come Bloom to live with her family.”

The way he phrased Yvans trial was bleak. Elyna lent back against the wall, her hands splayed behind her. Her head tilted down as she closed her eyes and forced herself to slow down. Confident that the world was not spinning out of her control she was able to look up once more. Her features were drawn in thought.

‘My Father, has made a career of being a judge of Law,’ Elyna wondered why she was telling Malcolm this. The Duke probably knew. Still, it sometimes helped her to organise her thoughts to start at the beginning.

‘He’s known for being a fair man. No matter my Mothers first impressions, my Lord, my Father thinks upon your with favour,’ a weak smile pulled at her features. Wasn’t that obvious? He had given his blessing to their union. ‘It is my Father who has the ear of the Duke and Duchess...and both of my parents thought well of the Captain.’ Her gaze slipped once more to the carpeted ground beneath her feet. ‘They entrusted my care to him,’ and surely that said enough. Yvan had taken advantage of that trust, and she had fallen with all the naivety of a seventeen year old girl.

‘I will write to my Father. Surely, he will assist in saving a life?’ Elyna finished quietly.

She pulled her hands forward and held them together. What had been a wonderful evening, filled with hope and promise for the future felt tarnished by the presence of The Butcher.

‘He came to see me,’ Elyna admitted softly. ‘At the end of Harvest. I don’t know...I don’t know how he found my address - I had only just moved to the city.’ She shook her head and examined her white-knuckled hands. ‘I could have said something, I could have...I...I can’t help but feel some responsibility for his actions.’

She closed her eyes, ‘thank the Seven that you and Benjamin were there…’ Malcolm seemed close to Leonide, if he had been appointed her personal guard. The woman swallowed the bitter taste of jealousy that had risen.

Malcolm averted his gaze. It was somehow harder to look at Elyna now than it had been at the beginning of the evening. He tried not to entertain the thought of her and Yvan’s recent meet up. What had transpired, he wondered, between the two of them on that day. It must have taken place before Leonide had given birth, for Yvan had been arrested soon after the event.

“I trust you will do so,” he said, in reference to the letter Elyna intended to write to her father.

He took up the folded napkin on the table and unraveled it in his hands, cleaning them. When would they next see one another? Elyna had her mission to focus on and Malcolm knew his time with Marcus and Vaughn was limited.

“I suppose I’ll see you next during the aurora,” he said, as he moved to cross the room to the door. “After that I have business and work in the capital,” he explained, “and won’t be returning to Mayce until this time next year.” Unless, he thought, Elyna had any thoughts regarding where she wanted their wedding to take place.

“Thank you for your company this evening.”

Elyna hadn’t moved from where she stood against the wall. Head bowed and eyes closed. Her chest rose sharply and she heard Malcolm moving around. Curious she looked across at the man as he wiped his hands of their dinner and stood.

The room felt cold, as though the touch of Frost had managed to slide in and rob it of any warmth. He was dismissing her. Their earlier ease had gone. Yvan, she couldn’t help but think, had ruined a moment for both of them, without stepping foot in the region.

‘I will look forward to seeing you,’ Elyna spoke quietly, moving across the room after him. She paused before she could close the entire distance and collected her jacket and cloak, pulling them on as protection against the sudden chill. Her hands and mind were busy.

‘Thank you for your invitation, My Lord.’ He was formal and polite and she met him with etiquette. Her dark eyes searched his expression as she approached and dipped into a curtsey as befitted his station.

Elyna hesitated, ‘with your agreement, I will inform my Father of our…’ she struggled for the word. Marriage sounded too romantic when Malcolm clearly felt anything but. ‘Our… happier arrangement,’ she finished finally. So close to the door she worried they could be overheard. It wasn’t her place to reveal the news here. She was tempted to stop him opening the door. To take his hand or try to kiss him. Anything to reclaim some of the joy they had shared that evening. Yet, he had never responded to any advance she had made.

‘I will look forward to seeing you…’ she said again.