The young man walked forward until he was just at the bottom of Aelga's table. He looked up at her, his brown eyes meeting her green ones, and unfurled the Dove of Peace. It tumbled in a stream of silky white, pooling around his feet, and he dipped his head as he lifted it toward her.

The room was silent. No one even dared breathe as they stared at Aelga and the Dove of Peace in front of her. She had been officially crowned not even a half-day, and now she was faced with a decision the size of which had not been seen since her father had faced the start of the war with Glastonbex so many years before. Idelle felt the generals and commanders tense at her side, and she knew they would not want the peace. They'd fought Yseult's magic army, and knew that she was not one to back down as easily as this. Peace she may be offering, but she also may have had a hand in the death of King Aengus. And what did she need him dead for if she was going to call the war off anyway? There was something else brewing and she needed Aelga on the throne for it.

Aelga turned and looked toward Torran. That was all he needed. He called Ainslow and a few of the others that had been in the war room, and they walked to her side. The young man with black hair stepped back, retreating to Yseult's side, and she took the banner from him. Everyone else was too busy talking to Aelga to notice it, but Idelle saw the way she wrenched it from his grasp and pointed sharply at her side. He took his place where she indicated, and his black hair fell back over his eyes. Her dog, Idelle thought, frowning.

A minute later, Aelga looked up, the whispering between her and her advisers done. She took a deep breath and motioned for Yseult to step forward.

"I require more time to think over your offer," she said, and it was obviously not the answer Yseult wanted.

"I need to know your answer quickly," the other queen said. "My allies are restless men, and they will not be easily persuaded to wait around for an answer."

"Never-the-less, I cannot give you one this hastily," Aelga said. "Return to Glastonbex, and we will pause the fighting. Your men stay where they are, and mine stay as well. I will send a messenger to you to let you know what I have decided."

Yseult laughed, shaking her head. "My allies would never agree to that. If you refuse my offer, you could attack my troops without warning. I may lose all my hard-fought ground overnight."

Aelga shrugged. "You are asking me to trust you, so you must trust me."

Yseult smiled, something that should have looked sweet but instead spread across her face like a snake stretching across desert sands. "I will remain here until you've made your decision. Think of me as a captive, if you must, but my presence will make sure that your decision does not take too long to make." She folded her hands behind her. "And when it is made, I will be at hand to hear it before you can send any messengers out to your troops."

The room was silent and still and no one seemed ready to break the hypnotic pause. Aelga stared at Yseult, thankfully not looking too shocked or surprised by the other queen's insistence, and yet obviously thrown off balance. Her fingers curled around the arm rests of her chair, their white knuckles the only sign that she was experiencing any turmoil inside.

"Give me a moment to speak to my advisors," Aelga finally said, beckoning to them again. This time, a few more people joined the group. Among them was High Lord Reynard, who seemed to do most of the talking. Idelle could tell, even from a distance, that Torran was growing irritated as High Lord Reynard talked over everyone and used large hand motions that almost hit more than one person. Torran's jaw worked and he had to tap Aelga's shoulder more than once to get her to focus on what he was about to say. It seemed Reynard had the sort of forcefulness that ate everyone else's opinions up, even when no one liked what he had to say.

After only a couple of minutes, the advisors finally stepped aside and Aelga looked back down at Yseult. Torran stood at her side, obviously not pleased, his eyes on the ground and his arms crossed across his front. The general and a woman in a shiny black gown also looked agitated, but all the others lifted their chins up and looked down their noses at the enemy queen.

"You may spend a few days in our castle while we discuss your terms," Aelga finally said. "However, you will be under constant watch and not allowed to leave the premises or receive visitors."

Yseult nodded along, almost in a mocking way. "Oh, of course. Of course," she said.

Aelga bristled, but said nothing about it. "We also require that you get rid of all these soldiers and that you use absolutely no magic at all while on Wynherst grounds. If you do use even the tiniest bit of magic, we shall treat it as treason and punish you with the consequences of that crime."

She didn't say it, but the penalty for treason was death.

"I won't use magic," Yseult said, as if this was as easy as promising not to wink during church and not a fundamental part of her values as a magic-wielder. Part of the war was about Glastonbex wanting to force its magic into Wynherst, and yet here she was shrugging it off as if she had no plans to use magic anyway.

Yseult continued, "I bring up objections only to getting rid of all my soldiers. I cannot be here alone, as you can surely understand. No queen has ever been held in captivity without her own people around her, and I will not agree to be held with no protection from your own soldiers."

Aelga shook her head. "We cannot have enemy soldiers wandering around in the castle and near our city. It would be all too easy for you to kill and maim with a flick of your hand."

"As would it be for you, if I did not have anyone to protect me," Yselt responded. "However, I am willing to compromise. I will send all my soldiers home except Thellamy." Here she nodded to the black haired youth, who seemed almost to shrink under the weight of his own name. "He is my personal bodyguard and will continue to uphold that duty. One boy, whether he has magic or not, is no match for a castle full of armed soldiers, surely?"

Aelga paused, her eyes cutting to Reynard almost as if by habit. The old man nodded his head, and Aelga turned back to Yseult. "All right. We agree to your personal bodyguard staying behind with you. Do you agree to the terms now?"

Yseult smiled and nodded. "We have a deal. I will wait anxiously for your response to my own bargain."

"General Ainslow, will you please arrange for the Glastonbex soldiers to be returned to their country?" Aelga said, and the general was already moving to summon his own men to cluster around Yseult's guard. Tension sparked in the room as the Wynherst men pulled out swords, staring at the Glastonbex magic-wielders with absolutely no trust at all. Yseult merely nodded to her men, a dismissive gesture, which seemed enough for them to give into the humiliation of being escorted from the room by mere swords.

The bound fire mages passed just a few feet from Idelle, their hoods rippling in the air, smelling like ashes and smoke. The hairs on Idelle's arms stood up and she held herself back from launching at them with her sword. Their cloaked forms were a shivering sight, one that she had seen on the battlefield too many times, killing friends and acquaintances in fiery agony. It made her skin crawl to be this close to them.

After the fire mages came the soldiers in their armor, each with a different magic discipline. Idelle hadn't run into too many earth druids or water monks, but she still watched the men warily as they walked by her. Perhaps they were even more terrifying, since she did not know exactly the limits of their powers. She knew, of course, what they could do, and had even faced them in battle a few times, but she had not fought them enough to know all the tricks and surprises that came with their powers.

By the time General Ainslow had escorted all the Glastonbex soldiers from the room, Idelle's hands were slick with sweat and she had to sheath her sword in order to wipe her palms on her pants. She knew she must stink of fear, but she couldn't stop thinking about how close they were to Wynherst being destroyed. Yseult could just use her powers, of which no one knew which she possessed, and Aelga would be dead before they could move. It was only the thought that Yseult would be outnumbered and neutralized if she tried to attack, that comforted Idelle. It was no reason to relax or think Yseult would not try anything, but it was some semblance of hope when faced with magic in your very home. 

Idelle was just letting her shoulders unknot themselves when Aelga spoke again.

"Captain Idelle."

Her name echoed through the halls once again that night. Idelle looked up sharply and froze, finding that all eyes, including those of Yseult and her guard, were fixed on her.

"Yes, Your Majesty?" Idelle asked, her voice a bit choked and wavering. She cleared it and bowed, hoping to hide that she was entirely unprepared for her new title.

Aelga stood, causing everyone around her to bow. Yseult and her guard, Thellamy, however, stood as ramrod straight as ever, which made Idelle frown. Aelga, on the other hand, did not seem to care too much. She stepped down from her chair and came around the table, stopping a few feet away from Idelle. Torran followed her, concern etched in his face.

"Please take Queen Yseult to the cells while she waits for our decision," Aelga said. Idelle's gaze cut to Yseult, just in time to see a flash of anger cross her face. It was quickly replaced by the nonchalant smile of a person who is so sure of themselves that they hardly care about the decisions of others. But that hint of displeasure had been there for just a second. She hadn't been expecting Aelga to actually treat her like a prisoner, which made Idelle almost smile. Yseult had thought she'd spend the time in a nice room, like a visiting dignitary, and yet Aelga was going to take her at her word and treat her like the war prisoner that she was.

"Of course, Your Majesty. Leave it to me," Idelle said, wasting no time in walking to the Glastonbex queen's side and indicating with her arm toward the open door that led down into the inner ward.

Yseult, to her credit, walked from the room as royally as she had entered. She was now a prisoner, a captive, but she held her head high as if she was the one who ruled this castle. Her guard, Thellamy, hung back, his brown eyes skittering toward Aelga. She was already talking to Reynard and Idelle needed to get Yseult secured before she could try and escape or cause any other trouble. She called to Thellamy to hurry up, and he obeyed, breaking his gaze from Aelga and jogging to catch up as Idelle led his queen down the stairs and toward the dungeons below the west tower.