Alliar

The cold blistered in through the opened door with a harsh chill. It nipped at my skin and for a moment, I thought my fingers and toes would just fall off. How would I walk, I thought, without toes? It seemed easy enough but for some odd reason I imagined the little stubs at the end of a foot had other uses. Perhaps balance? I most certainly didn't want to find out. I opened my eyes and checked my toes. Wiggling them in the air. Still there.

With a sigh of relief, I turned towards the door. I found the same thing as I did every morning I slept in the Kings chambers. The doors wide open, Jonathan outside, his arms resting against the railing and his eyes on the horizon. He wore a shirt today, perhaps because it was colder than usual and bare skin just wouldn't do.

I watched him for a moment. He was tense, troubled. Not as relaxed as he appeared to be the previous mornings. As the sun rose on the horizon, a red glow lit up his features and cast a red shadow upon the castle. Red. In a blink last night's events came flooding back to me. The blue of my dress, the way the lace fitted against my skin. The dancing, the music. The assassin. And most of all, the way brown eyes flickered red in the light of the torches before the life left them.

I took a deep breath knowing I need to let the memory go. I wondered how long it would take to slip from my mind – if it ever would.

Fed up with the cold, I rolled out of the bed and wrapped the furs around me. I walked towards Jonathan, pausing once with hesitation by the door.

"I often wonder," I spoke softly as I approached him. He jumped ever so slightly startled by my intrusion. "Does the sunrise look different each morning. Or is it simply the same each day?"

He shook his head. "The same mostly."

"So why is it so interesting?"

He took a deep breath and paused a moment as if considering whether to tell me the truth or not. "I'm not watching the sunrise."

"Oh?" I turned my attention outwards. Jagged rocks loomed below us, the rough waves of the morning crashing against them making a foam of white. Beyond that, there was nothing else but the sunrise.

"I'm watching the horizon." He clarified for me. I pressed my lips together. And that was much more entertaining? "When I was young, my father woke me up early one morning. He bought me here, on this porch and pointed out to the horizon. Ships. Blue sails with his sigil, an eagle in mid-flight, littered the horizon line. He had spent his entire reign building the most impressive navy the kingdom could afford." He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "He was to leave for the war front that day. He told me he'd come back with the fleet and to watch the horizon as the blue sails rolled in like a storm. Said it would be a glorious sight."

I knew I shouldn't have. I knew better, but still, I placed a hand on his shoulder hoping to comfort him. "And he didn't come back." Because my father killed him.

"No, he didn't. It did become a habit though. Each morning, whether I wanted to or not, my eyes would open just before the dawn and I'd watch the sunrise up and kiss the water."

"It's a beautiful sight." I smiled weakly.

The sun was full, hovering just above the water. The day had officially begun. We walked back into the room and Jonathan began poking the logs in the fire so that the new flames would catch. I moved towards the wardrobe hoping to find something warmer to wear until something could be bought to me from my rooms. I shuddered a moment at the thought of going back in there. I wasn't sure I could even close my eyes in that room. Not without picturing him.

"Ow." I tripped over the chest by the wardrobe. I must have missed it in my tired state.

"What?"

"I tripped over your damn box." I wanted to kick it.

He shook his head and picked it up, his muscles flexing under the weight. "Open your eyes will you."

"Maybe you shouldn't leave your junk lying around." I muttered and pulled out a winter coat, lined with furs and leather. I wrapped it around myself while Jonathan moved the chest into the wardrobe. "What's with that chest anyways?" I questioned, turning to sit on the bed while I waited for better clothes.

"What do you mean?"

"Well it was in the tent back at the camp right?"

He stilled momentarily and faced me. "You remember that?"

"You gave it to me during the attack and told me to run, heavy thing, of course I remember it." I scrunched my nose remembering the heavy weight. I'm surprised I didn't break my toe on the damn thing. "So why do you drag it around?"

"It was my mother's. It was stolen a few months ago and I tracked it down to a castle in the West, King Petar – idiot."

My eyes sparked. Was that the reason for his raid? "So you went to take it back?"

He nodded. "It has some very valuable things inside."

"Like?"

"None of your business." He shut me down.

I silently mimicked him.

The door opened without a knock and I quickly scrambled to cover myself. Jonathan bounced up, an angry look on his face. Nicolai stopped as soon as he saw me and quickly closed his eyes – not that you could see anything anyways – and turned to face the wall.

"Have your hands forgotten how to knock?"

"No your Grace. I just...um..." He trailed off looking for a good excuse. "It's important."

"Hurry up then." Jonathan crossed his arms across his chest looking slightly annoyed and amused at the same time.

"We found how the assassin got in." Both our expressions went from amused to bleak in an instant.

"How?!"

"Through the tunnels. There was one connecting to Miss's room. The disturbed dust shows his path, in through the opening near the outer gate and straight for her room. There was no disruption in any other path so - "

Jonathan interrupted him, finishing his sentence. "So they knew where they were going."

"Yes your Grace."

I took a deep breath. Why would someone want to kill me? According to everyone here I was just an out of favour mistress to a King who's family have a habit of killing Mistress' when they are finished with them. Unless – a thought entered my mind – maybe I hadn't been so good at hiding my true identity. Maybe someone knew who I was? No. How could they? No one this far North had ever met me, and because our families were estranged, we didn't associate with the same people.

"How would they..." He stopped, frozen in his spot before he glanced quickly at me. I thought for a horrid moment that he might accuse me of something but he only turned on his heels and reached into his wardrobe. He dragged out his mother's chest and after a moment, managed to unlock it. He rifled through its contents for a moment before he cursed and slammed a few things on the floor.

"Seal all the old tunnels! Now!"

Nicolai jumped to attention but rushed outside to carry on the order.

"Horick!" Jonathan called for the guard.

"Yes Sire?" He didn't bother to bow as he stood at the door, awaiting a command. "Assemble the army."

Horick bowed and quickly retreated.

"What's happening?" I asked him. A part of me wanted to put my hand on his shoulder to comfort him, but another part of me knew better.

"When they had my chest, they must have figured out how to open it and took the damn map."

"Of the tunnels."

He nodded. "The old ones anyways. The new ones aren't mapped out."

"So you're marching West?" I felt a sickness take old of my stomach as I thought about the army about to land on my brother's door step.

"No. East."

I frowned confused. As if in answer, Jonathan held up a small painting on a piece of parchment. It was a black hound. The sigil of the house of Thorns, of king Edward Thorn – the man I was supposed to marry and the man who married my sister. I swallowed nervously.

He was going to wage war against Kaya.

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Three days had gone by. Three days of mayhem. Guards rushed about gathering supplies and spending their last few moments with their families before they marched off to war. Jonathan's original battle plans that I over looked were being enforced now, only much quicker than they were meant too. I felt too sick to move. I was cold and petrified. What would happen to my baby sister should Jonathan win the battle? Would it even be a battle? Or simply more of a raid like he had done in the West?

I leaned forward and clutched my stomach. It had been giving me trouble for the a few days now. I wasn't sure why. Guilt over killing someone? Fear for my sister? Fear for my own life if the King should fall?

I had more guards following me than usual now that a threat had been made against me. Nicolai was the only one I could see though. He waiting at the entrance to the gardens, watching me silently. I had needed some air, hoping it would help ease my stomach pains. I wasn't entirely sure I was going to keep my breakfast down.

"Little Miss." I looked up at the familiar voice to see my uncle bowing at me. My eyes widened in shock.

"I thought you weren't coming back?" I asked him as he took the seat beside me. I gave Nicolai a goodwill gesture to tell him I was okay and so that he wouldn't attempt to come any closer.

"Yes I had no intention of coming back, but after I received your letter I had too. I rode all day and night." He shook his head. "Kaya's life will hang in the balance; I have to do something. Attempt to quell the King's anger somehow."

"He's moving up the attack, the guards are already assembling." I quickly responded. He was far too late.

"What?" His eyes widen with such surprise. "Why, what happened?"

I swallowed a little, struggling with the words. "I was attacked only a few nights ago during at the feast."

"How? Why?" The idea seemed to puzzle my uncle. "Why a King's mistress, and an out of favour one at that?"

"I don't know." I explained honestly. "But they came in from the old tunnels, the only record of the tunnels existence was on an old map Jonathan kept in a small chest along with a few things he held dear. That chest was stolen from him a few months ago and he lead a raiding party to retrieve it."

"A raiding party that took him West?" He caught on to my line of thought.

"Exactly. We had the chest!"

He shook his head. He was confused. "Why would Petar have the chest?"
"I don't know but Jonathan seems to think that this threat came from the East."

"What motive would they have to steal the chest?"
"I don't know that either, but while I was their captive at the camp we were attacked by the Eastern army."

"Are you sure?"

"They had a hound on their breast plate."

My uncle shook his head confused. "But I was there, the King Edward is convinced Jonathan is reigniting the war of their father's simply out of ambition and greed. He doesn't want a fight."

I moved my head no. "He's not a conquer," I assured my uncle. And it was true – that I believed with all my heart. "He just wants revenge for what he considers attacks against him. It's a retaliation."

For some odd reason, I blamed my step farther. "Does Petar know I'm alive?"

The question caught him off guard. "Yes, I believe so. Your mother most likely told him. Why?"

"It's nothing." I lied. "Is he still in hiding?"
"No, he remains with your mother in the East."

"And my brothers?"

"Still remain where they are. Sebastian quelling a burning kingdom and Tristan and Arthur in Leece." He paused for a moment. "I've heard a few rumours."

I raised my eyes brows, interested in the gossip of the outside world. I wasn't particularly interested in gossip before, often finding it tedious and boring and incredibly incorrect. But right now, gossip was the only thing I had. "Do tell."

"People have been asking questions about you."

I swallowed a little unsure where this was going. "How so?"

"People in your brother's court, asking if they've found you. If you were alive or dead."

"This seems normal."

"Yes but not all at the same time." His eyes were full of warning. "In the last month, everyone seems to have all become concerned at the same time."

"And you don't believe in coincidences."

"No one of intelligence does, my dear."

"Well..." I trailed off, not sure what to make of it. "That's nothing major, right?"

"Wrong. If people are inquiring about you, it's because someone is looking for an answer."

"Jonathan." I put together his make-shift puzzle. "You think he is wanting to know who I am?"

"I think he has heard about a missing princess and wants to make sure you're not her."

"And so what do we do?" I felt my heart beat quicken, a jolt of fear shudder down my spine.

"Tristan has removed all paintings of you for now. As long as no one knows what you look like, it will be difficult to prove anything." He nodded to himself, pleased with the actions taken.

I shook my head. "Why now? He doesn't care who I am, I promise you that."

My uncle gave me an unbelieving look. "My sweet girl, of course he will want to know. Sooner or later he will press you for an answer. Especially since you are still able to be wed."

I blinked rapidly. "What?"

"He knows you are of noble birth doesn't he?"

I nodded yes.

"Then he knows he can wed you if he wishes, as he has held you captive, he knows he owns your virtue. If you were to give him an heir, he would marry you before you gave birth. He would have too or their line is no longer pure." I bit down the urge to explain, their line was not as pure as they believed. What with a Gabriel, a Bastard son of the late King, and gods know how many others with their blood mixed in.

"I doubt it uncle." I tried to push the thoughts far from my mind.

"It makes sense."

"But, I'm still dead the moment he discovers who I am." I reminded him of one fateful aspect – perhaps the most important. After feeling betrayed and lied too for so long, marriage will be last thing on his mind. Death and torture – most likely much higher on the list.

My uncle pressed his lips together unsure. "Yes, I may have over looked that detail."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "I must get back; the guards are watching me more than before."

He took my hand and led me to my feet before bowing. "Be safe." He kissed my hand and retreated towards the castle walls.

I felt my stomach flip once again. I had a bad feeling about this.

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