A chorus of proud trumpets were the first noises to announce Queen Serein Regina's arrival. From the balcony overlooking the lush waters of the Farandor, Nuron watched as Alderia's decorative barge slid into Chryseum harbour.

Sales of pale silk whipped in the light breeze atop the tall mast. Banners of silver, showing the crown-circled pale dove that was the emblem of Alderia, fluttered elegantly; a pure representation of the country's reputation.

He watched as, far below him, the Queen and her procession walked across the ramp onto the light-wood docks.

Nuron breathed deeply, the lovely scent of salt and trees permeating his lungs. It would take a while for the procession to reach the balcony and the committee awaiting them.

There was Nuron, clad in cerulean robes gilded with gold and crystal, and wearing a crown of intertwined silver. On Nuron's left stood Lukurn, dressed simply in an olive jerkin studded in bronze with a golden circlet resting gently on his brown locks. Randor stood on his right wearing pale robes with a jade cloak ending at a stag-shaped clasp. Next to Randor stood Princess Silva, displaying a long, golden dress sprinkled with tiny gems that glittered in the sunlight.

Lukurn had requested to be by Silva, and while Nuron and Randor secretly rejoiced at the proposition, they both agreed it would be a clear offense to the Queen and declined. No-one spoke as they all watched the tiny figures making their slow way up the marble hewn steps, and no-one moved.

This was fine by Nuron, he was dreading the Queen's imminent arrival with every second that passed. Every worst possible scenario flashed through his head and every buried worry rose to the surface, pestering his consciousness. How would she take it when he told her he denied her proposal? How would she react to who he had chosen instead? And what would she do? These questions were like fish, nibbling at his mind and until he found out the answers, he knew they wouldn't go away. The situation was almost laughable, he was to refuse her for a different, younger girl and not only that; the Queen would share a tower with the same family that he had chosen instead. It was a nightmare, and it was politics.

It took two hours for the Queen to reach them. Two hours of worry and two hours of standing in the heat. But it was evidently worth the wait to the onlookers as she approached them.

Queen Serein had donned a dress of soft silver, the silk trailing behind her; a clear opposite to Princess Silva's gold. She wore a necklace of clouded quartz and her pale blonde hair draped behind her back in extravagant coils. Her face was as soft as Silva's was sharp and her eyes a deep indigo. She exhibited a polite, kind smile that seemed to see right through all deception.

Nuron forced himself to wear a hospitable expression as he listened to the Queen's herald.

"All hail Queen Serein Regina, the lady of Yavhr, the empress of Maohn and the sovereign of Alderia." The Euralias droned in an arrogant tone.

Nuron bowed his head respectfully, "I welcome you, my Queen, and  express my heartfelt apologies for the death of your husband, may Yronwyn judge him fairly." Nuron said.

The Queen adopted the perfect, sad smile befitting a widow, "I thank you, I know you were one of my late husband's dearest friends."

She turned her gaze to Nuron's right, her meaning couldn't have been clearer; who were the proud intruders beside him?

"This is King Randor Elwood of Rowanok and his daughter, Princess Silva." Nuron said, with an edge of uncertainty.

"A pleasure to meet you, your majesty." Randor said, his tawny eyes lowered respectfully.

But Queen Serein wasn't looking to him, she was instead gazing with well-veiled distaste at Princess Silva, who stared boldly back.

"And this is my son, Crown Prince Lukurn." Nuron said hurriedly, anxious to divert her attention.

Her eyes moved toward to Lukurn and a smile lit her face, "Greetings, young prince."

Lukurn watched her in fascination, much to Randor's prominent disapproval.

"Shall we convene in the gardens your highness, the journey from the docks is long, you must require refreshments and rest." Nuron offered.

"Why thank you, I would love to once again see your fabled grounds, it is said their beauty grows with every passing year."

"It seems so, your majesty, right this way."

The procession split apart as Nuron, Randor, Queen Serein and two guards made their way through the gates and into the gardens.

Nuron felt strange, like he was re-living the same experience of Randor's arrival, apart from the worrying fact he was far more nervous and far less in control.

"They have grown." The queen stated, her eyes sparkling as they soaked in the sight of hundreds of exotic flowers.

"You would enjoy Arbor Palace, your highness; it is said our gardens are the biggest in all of Dontos and Nixrym." King Randor said, noting her enjoyment.

She smiled, "No need to boast, my good king. There is praise enough to go around."

Nuron chuckled and Randor allowed a reluctantly amused smile.

The Queen elegantly seated herself on one of the many seats littering the garden, her guards positioning themselves behind her. Nuron and Randor both drew up their own chairs and seated themselves, a triad of royalty.

"Can your companions be trusted for discretion, your majesty?" Randor asked bluntly, his eyes resting on the two simply dressed guards behind her. #

She smiled not unkindly, "My king, they are the only companions I trust for discretion." Randor nodded and crossed his, long fingers together.

"Then, we mu-" He began.

"Why is your son, Lukurn, so pale?" The Queen interrupted, her words directed at Nuron.

"He had only recently succumbed to an illness." Nuron said carefully. Her attractive face changed to an expression of doubt.

"What caused such illness? Is it gone?"

"It has disappeared, your majesty, he is only in a recovery stage." Nuron answered.

The Queen relaxed and turned to Randor, bestowing him with a gorgeous smile. "I do apologise for my interruption, you were saying?"

#Randor showed no sign of offense and simply nodded before continuing. "We must discuss the reasons for your... Expedition here."

"I think those reasons are quite clear, your highness, I am here to arrange a marriage between me and Prince Lukurn." She snapped, her indigo eyes deep with indignation.

"I must regret to inform you, your majesty that I came here requesting the same thing for my daughter." Randor declared calmly, watching her reaction.

Nuron sighed inwardly as the two colliding forces looked toward him for his conclusive judgement. "Your highnesses, truly such a sensitive matter should be discussed later, such a thing is not just for me to decide. It is for Prince Lukurn to choose." Nuron said firmly.

Randor's eyes flashed dangerously and the Queen smiled as if Nuron jested. "My good king, truly you will want this opportunity to choose the most valuable asset." She said in honeyed words. Nuron looked at her, unfazed.

"I think both suitors are adequate, I will leave Lukurn to choose," He said, before adding, "And that is final."

Queen Serein nodded, "As is fair." She agreed.

She rose and nodded at both, "My kings, I must retire to my chambers. Which are?" She looked questionably at Nuron.

"I have placed you in the top apartments of the whispering tower, my Queen." Nuron said

"Me and my daughter hold the bottom apartments, your grace." Randor said smugly, "It will be a pleasure to..." The word seemed alien in his mouth "Share."

It was the Queen's turn to flash her eyes before walking off, her ever-present guards following faithfully.

"That was a rash thing to say." Nuron advised, watching the silk trail of her dress slither along the path through the copse toward the gate.

Randor accepted a chalice of wine from a passing servant and sipped it daintily. "It was nothing, I'm more worried about your rash decisions."

"Mine?" Nuron asked, feigning confusion.

"You agreed that marrying Lukurn to Silva is in your best interests."

"And I would." Nuron said, sensing an incoming outburst.

"Then why in the eye of Yronwyn did you decline an opportunity and hand the marriage to fate?" Randor said, failing to hide the anger in his voice.

Nuron nodded slowly, his suspicion confirmed. "I understand your misgivings, but I need Queen Serein on my side. There is a more prominent chance of Lukurn choosing Silva and when that happens; it is something she now cannot blame on me. And  I require that for the future."

Randor didn't answer, he drank more wine; his flare of anger morphed back into the emotionless face Nuron knew all too well.

"It was the right decision, she will appreciate me not taking your side just because I would have more to gain and she cannot, nay, will not blame me." Nuron rose to his feet, "I will see you at dinner."

He left Randor at the table, drinking wine and staring at the mocking sky.

Nuron strode through the gardens, coming to a smaller balcony sheltered by a large oak, the view; a lovely image of Castle Chryseum's left side. He was surprised when he heard someone approaching behind him. He turned, it was one of the Queen's Lords; Nuron vaguely recognised him from somewhere. He had the same brown hair of an Autumn Islander, but his eyes were a brilliant grey. He was dressed in robes of light green, emblazoned with his house's sigil, a single spring-blossom tree surrounded by blue waves of wind.

"Your grace," The Euralias said, nodding respectfully.

Nuron managed a smile, "Yes, Lord..."

"Dryod, we have met before." He answered, Nuron looked suitably confused "At the feast celebrating Lord Nryid's four-hundredth?" The Euralias supplied.

"Ah yes, Lester was it?" Nuron asked, recalling the fierce festivities those many years ago.

"Lyserend."

"Of course, and you were there because of the relations between house Dryod and house Nryid correct?"

"Exactly, your majesty."

"A fine feast."

"That it was." The Lord agreed. "A pleasant view, your grace." He said, turning his view toward the balcony.

"Hmm" The king agreed.

The Lord walked over and stood next to Nuron. "I am glad to have met you. I was meaning to inquire for permission to allow me to visit Nordhain Bridge and consequently, the Lords Nyrid."

"Why, of course, I shall see you are fitted with supplies for your journey."

"You are too kind your majesty, may I also request some company of... Military prowess?"

"Guards shall also be supplied, though I must assure you; there will be no danger on the roads."

"Only a precaution, your grace, better to be cautious than dead."

"Yes, yes, it is." Nuron agreed, thinking on the words and frowning slightly. "You must excuse me my Lord, I have to prepare for tonight's dinner. I will see you there, I presume?"

"Of course, your majesty; I look forward to it." Lord Dryod answered, watching as Nuron strode off.

Nuron spent a highly antagonising hour arguing with his chef on the amount of food required for the banquet. Afterward, he had to determine the places of the numerous Lords and Ladies visiting Castle Chryseum. And then he had to listen to Harnen expressing his healing-honed worries on Prince Lukurn's condition, a problem he was not pleased to address.

"My King it would be unadvisable to have Lukurn at such an extravagant occasion, it was dangerous enough forcing him to stand in that heat for nigh on three hours, but this? The Prince will not recover without rest." The old Euralias doggedly continued.

Nuron sighed, "It will be an insult for Lukurn to not attend, do not worry Harnen; I have instructed no alcohol or heavy foods be brought to him and I will make sure he leaves as soon as courtesy permits us."

"But your grace-"

"I will hear no more on the matter." Nuron said, suddenly stern. "I appreciate your concern, but this is no negotiation, Lukurn is going."

Harnen looked crestfallen and only nodded stiffly before walking off. Nuron sighed again and turned to be greeted by another anxious face. Another problem, no doubt; one that would plague him. "Yes?" The worried messenger bore the emblem of Alderia.

"Your majesty, a Lord has been found dead underneath the second balcony past the gate; his body was shattered on the rocks below, but he is still recognisable." The Euralias gushed.

Nuron's jaw tightened, "Which Lord?"

The messenger looked at him, frightened. "Lord Lyserend Dryod."

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Author's Note:

Sorry for the long wait on chapters, I've been taking a while to work on timelines/history's of characters to make the story flow better.

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