⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅ ◈ ⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

The castle was almost empty. There were less servants, some of them being sent to war, and there were also fewer guards. It was strange. Jax wasn't in the field, teaching soldiers how to swing a sword, and Kael wasn't in his room, brooding and sending out letters. It was just her and the skeleton of Northstone's household.

As for Landon, there was no change. He was often seen around the castle speaking to different people in positions of power, a charming smile on his lips. The ladies desired him, the lords admired him, and the servants respected him.

That little twat was a thorn in her side.

Kael was easy to deal with. He was good at war, but he was often unpredictable with politics, easily angered and quick to change his mind. He needed Ethelind at his side to deal with the treasury and angry nobles, to find spies and whisper information in his ear. Aldric would also be easy to manipulate.

As for Landon... he didn't need Ethelind. Which was dangerous for her.

Ethelind spent lots of time writing letters to lords and ladies to request money or soldiers, not paying too much attention to whether they were from the North, East, or West. She sent no letters to Damek Westerling, however. Word had it that he was planning to overthrow Kael and take the throne himself, his claim being that he was Lucian's only brother. When Kael got back from battle—when, not if—Ethelind would have to discuss disposal methods with him. Damek couldn't be allowed to become a proper threat while Ulysses was still determined to avenge his parents. A civil war would complicate war with the South.

Ethelind had sent disguised riders and trackers out looking for Junia and Annalee. There was no sign of either of the twins, although a Southerner claimed she had seen someone of the right description speaking to the most well-known highwaymen in the Main States. Ethelind's trackers had beaten her up for wasting their time.

"My lady, I have two letters addressed for you," her maid said as she entered and passed her the letters. "And Calhoun is here to see you."

"Send him in."

The maid curtseyed and left, Calhoun entering as soon as she had taken her leave. He was dressed in green velvet, the symbol of the East on his breast pocket. He was about Ethelind's age, and a handsome young man. Adebiyi had sent the best of his retinue to represent him on purpose.

"My lady," Calhoun greeted, bending his head to kiss her knuckles. He had a noticeable Eastern accent, pronouncing each vowel with more emphasis than the Northerners.

"Sir Calhoun. What a pleasure." Ethelind smiled.

"Soon to be an earl, as far as Adebiyi tells me." Calhoun leaned against the door frame.

A conceited young boy, she mused.

"How pleasant of him," Ethelind replied. "Why did you seek my company?"

"Adebiyi wants to offer his support in your war against the South." Calhoun shrugged. "But he is wary. Your king has already taken down one monarch. What is to say he wouldn't take down another? He believes that if he could gain something from it, he would be more disposed to help you with soldiers and supplies."

Ethelind's expression didn't change.

"Tell Adebiyi he may have some of the South when we take it," Ethelind decided. Kael would be annoyed when he heard she had made such an offer without asking him, but Ethelind knew that she'd be able to get him to her side. She always could.

"But how much?"

"It depends how much help is offered," Ethelind replied with a small smirk.

"Let's say we gave you ten thousand infantry."

"That would hardly be enough," Ethelind said, raising her hand to her heart as if offended by the mere suggestion of it. "We'd need at least twenty-five thousand."

"Ah, ambitious, are you not?" Calhoun mused.

"I've heard that the South has the most beautiful flowers. And the sunsets..." She smiled. "Bursts of different shades of red and pink and orange in the sky, turning everything that the rays touch into a vibrant red. Like a conflagration, the sun spreading her weak rays in a feeble attempt at clinging onto it all before she fades away."

"You speak well," Calhoun smirked, but shifted slightly. "Fine. Let's say forty thousand infantry, ten thousand archers, fifteen thousand cavalry. Then how much of the South?"

"Let's see. Maybe one-twelfth?" A small amount, she knew. And she knew he would protest, then she would change the amount to something more reasonable. A game to convince him he had her under his control when the reverse was true.

"You have got to be kidding me," Calhoun said. "Soldiers cost money. One-sixth at the least."

Ethelind pretended to ponder it. "You strike a hard bargain. Throw in forty thousand Milates and we'll give you one quarter."

"You are an ambitious cow, are you not? You want to deplete our whole bloody treasury!" Calhoun complained.

"And I want a thousand of your revered elite unit," Ethelind added.

"You can't have any of them," he said. "They're reserved only for Adebiyi's private use. Trained from birth to kill and loyally serve the East. They are not yours to ask for."

"I'm asking now. A quarter is the offer."

He bit his bottom lip. "Aren't you a stubborn bitch? Fine. I'll ask Adebiyi about it."

"You're going back to him?"

"There are letters," he said, as if she was a fool. "As far as I am aware, Kael said I can stay for as long as he extends his welcome."

"Of course." Ethelind bowed. "Have a good evening, sir."

"And you, my lady." Calhoun bowed in return and turned to leave.

Ethelind smiled, watching him shut the door. He thought he was craftier than he was, but he was too credulous for his own good. With a small shake of her head, she opened the first letter.

Dear Ethelind,

I am sorry to inform you that Selene died three years ago of the Blue Fever while you were still in Kael's employ. Reagan and Dinah, your parents, are more than willing to host you from where they still reside in Redbrook Castle. They have heard of your work for the North and King Kael, and are proud. If you have any time to spare for them, please send word back.

Your humble servant,

Marcus Grey.

Signed by their scribe. Her parents hadn't even bothered to write the letter themselves.

I am sorry to inform you that Selene died two years ago

Ethelind's face darkened, and she threw the letter straight into a fire. Not satisfied by watching the parchment shrivel in on itself and turn to ashes, she picked up the knife she had used to open the envelope and threw it at the painting on the wall in anger, hitting the portrait of a princess in the eye. She should've seen it coming.

That's why Selene hadn't written to her. Selene hadn't been ignoring her like Ethelind had assumed.

She had been dead.

I should have been there. Ethelind paced, feeling a wave of emotions crashing over her. If I hadn't been so ambitious, then I wouldn't have been in prison when she died. I could have been there for her.

The thing that had always struck Ethelind the most about Selene were her hands. They were always soft, untouched by cuts like Ethelind's were. Delicate, not like Ethelind's calloused hands, ruined from clenching swords and her fists. Her meek sister, full of shy smiles, was dead.

Fever. She died of a fucking fever.

Lili came back in with dinner. Ethelind knocked the glass of water off the tray and the maid walked backwards, her eyes widening.

"GET OUT!" Ethelind shouted, her voice dangerously close to sounding like a scream.

Lili almost tripped over her feet in her haste to leave. Ethelind ignored the glass shards on the fur rug as she sank onto the floor. She had sent a message for Selene to Redbrook Castle, but hadn't been expecting the answer she had received.

They never told me. My sister died and no one ever thought to tell me.

Ethelind had the sinking revelation that no one probably realised she would even care to know.

Ethelind buried her face in her hands. When she had joined Kael, Selene had stayed at home to remain the dutiful daughter that her parents had always been proud of. They hadn't even deigned to say goodbye when Ethelind left, but she remembered Selene running out into the snow and hugging her, wrapping her arms around her neck and standing on her tiptoes to reach Ethelind's taller height. She could still feel the tickle of her sister's brown hair on her neck, the warmth of her embrace.

Come back home when it's all over, Selene had told her, looking up at her with wide, bright eyes.

Ethelind had not stopped to consider that it might have been the last time that she ever saw her sister.

They want to use me, she realised. Her parents had always cared more for Selene. Selene, who never wanted to pick up a sword for fear that she might swing it. Ethelind had dealt silently with being the second favourite, as long as she could get into battle and prove herself to others. She had always expected to die first. She had always believed that her sister would stay away from battles and live to an old age while she went out and threw away all her parent's expectations.

Audrey always looks at me like she wants to put a knife through my throat. I killed her brother, and it hurts to lose a sibling.

She rose, taking a sharp breath. She had to pull herself together and get her composure back. People died all the time.

Then she saw the princess with a knife in her painted eye, and something in her cracked.

Ethelind hadn't cried in eight years.

But she cried that day.

No one:

No one ever:

Me: *imagining the northerners having British accents*

I was contemplating cutting out this chapter and i still might in the future but i think i want to keep a bit of Ethelind's backstory here so uh here it is :))
I love you all,

shelly x