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The ceremonies were tedious, but Ethelind managed to stay awake during them, forcing her mind to stay focused. She had been placed beside Jax and Edison to watch as Landon pledged himself to the North before a priest, both standing in front of the throne.

"I am now responsible for the North," Landon finished, replying to the priest. "And I will do everything I can to protect it."

Ethelind's eyes moved to Audrey, blocking off his voice. Not that far away, she stood next to Lady Hill and Lord Rutea, her eyes restlessly flitting around the room. She still looked young, but if one looked closely, they could see the wariness in her expression. A red scar cut across her left hand and hurt glinted behind her eyes. Yet, despite all of it, in front of the hurt was an icy coldness. An unforgiving winter's wind, a snowstorm that could destroy.

The girl was often stupid, annoying, and naïve, but Ethelind respected the person she was becoming. After the futile escape attempt, she had grown more distant, and she composed herself quietly, a blank expression on her face. She was learning to forget honour and stop being stubborn—things like marriage could be steps to power, and she had to let go of preconceived notions of virtue to rise. Audrey had grown up with few responsibilities, weighed down her brother's death, believing that her own grief was the centre of her being; self-centred, even if not selfish, and close-minded. But, strangely, Ethelind wondered if Landon had played a part in pulling her out of that shell. For the better or the worst. Audrey had killed, she had seen the reality of the world, and she had emerged as something other than the spoiled, blinded princess she had been.

To the left of the throne sat Kael's coffin, covered in small swirls and a painted golden crown on the lid to symbolise that a king was dead. Audrey's gaze slid to Kael's coffin now and again, and so did Landon's. Both of them were aware of the dead king lying nearby.

Ethelind was relieved when the crown was finally placed on Landon's head. He stood from where he had been kneeling and the people watching clapped. Four women dressed in white walked forwards and picked up Kael's coffin carefully before walking out in perfectly synchronised motions to bury him outside.

There was a small prayer led by the priest and Ethelind bowed her head along with everyone else while it happened. Then Landon sat down on the throne, settling into it with his usual display of confidence. As if he was meant to be there.

"All hail King Landon!" The priest called.

Echoes of the words followed, and it surprised Ethelind to see Audrey mutter the words along with them.

Stupid girl, Ethelind thought, remembering that she had left the hall earlier with Landon. Don't listen to him.

She was about to leave the hall when the sound of trumpets sounded, announcing an important visitor. Landon frowned but leaned forward on his throne, waiting to see who it would be. Everyone in the throne room slowly moved to the side to leave a clear path down the middle, including Ethelind. She had received no news of an arrival and was curious, albeit annoyed. Why hadn't her spies given her word?

Her eyes sought King Adebiyi in the crowds and found him standing with his daughters, his face impassive, while his eldest daughter tilted her head to the side in confusion.

"Lady Grace Shadowhart!" an announcer called, his loud voice booming across the room.

Landon visibly stiffened on his throne before resting his head on his hand, his eyes widening slightly. All heads turned to the entrance as the double doors were opened.

A short and dainty girl stepped into view, her red cupid-bow lips curved at the edges into a brilliant, dimpled smile, while her cheeks glowed rosily. Her grey eyes gleamed in the light, the stained-glass window covering her pale skin in a burst of colours. With her features, she looked more like a sister than a cousin to Landon, despite her eye colour, which was Aldric's. Raven black ringlets circled her face and hung past her bare shoulders, held out of her face by a comb embedded with small jewels. She was not beautiful as much as pretty, almost girlish. The clothes she wore were typical of the Islanders; a red kimono that made her stand out against the similar gowns of the other women in the room while showing off her sinuous figure. Her name suited her well, as Ethelind saw when she glided across the room with an air of confidence but not vanity. She looked like she had walked straight out of a portrait, and a certain shine seemed to glow around her, an aura of brilliance.

They are both radiant, she thought as she compared the sharp features of Landon and Grace.

Grace's gaze swept the hall, stopping on Ethelind for a moment before going to Landon. As far as Ethelind could recall, Grace was Landon's cousin and had run away to find a life for herself in the Free Isles during the war.

Behind her, a brown-skinned woman with a scar going from her forehead to below her eye followed in black armour, then a blonde knight. Three other ladies trailed behind, dressed similarly to Grace in kimonos embroidered with gold thread and delicate flowers, then an entire retinue of other men and women, all looking out of place in the throne room with their zori sandals and traditional Islander dress. They seemed in awe of the place and looked around with curious eyes. Some stared directly at Landon or Adebiyi, some hostile, some curious.

Ethelind had to admire Grace for getting the Free Islanders out of the comforts of their peaceful islands.

But why is she here? How did she convince them?

Ethelind hoped that the Free Isles were not getting involved in the war. That would be bad news for anyone they opposed.

"Lady Grace." Landon's voice was level, although he warily eyed her guards. Despite being represented by a girl of only about eighteen or nineteen, they seemed fully capable of defending themselves. Many carried katanas while the scarred woman held a wooden staff. The Northerners and Easterners seemed disorientated by the intrusion, and many looked confused when they realised that the Islanders carrying weapons seemed evenly split between female and male.

Ethelind wanted to laugh at their bewilderment.

"Landon." Grace's accent was Southern despite living in the Free Isles for so long and she breezed across the floor gracefully, as if it were a dance, towards the throne where she dipped into a curtsey. The lords and ladies in the throne room all dropped to one knee, dropping their heads in respect.

Landon still looked shocked, but he managed a nod.

She stood and started walking across the throne room, heading straight for the king. The King's Guard moved forward defensively, hands on their swords, but Landon held out a hand, telling them to stay back.

What happened next surprised even Ethelind.

He stepped down from his throne and, quickening his stride, embraced her tightly. Her arms wrapped around him, both seemingly unaware of the staring nobles, and he leant his head on hers as she whispered something, too quietly for anyone else to hear. He pulled away and held her at arm's length, examining her as if unsure if she was real. Tears shimmered in Grace's eyes as she gave him a small smile, and Landon just stared at her.

"I thought you had established yourself a life in the Free Isles," Landon said softly, subtly questioning her presence.

"That is so." Her voice was gentle, but Ethelind narrowed her eyes slightly as she rose with the others, knowing when someone was a threat. Despite Grace's smiles and courtesies, Ethelind was not deceived. She could sense ambition from a mile away. "Then I heard that my younger cousin was having a coronation, and I just had to come." She turned to Audrey and her smile grew slightly. "You are just as beautiful as they say you are, Your Highness."

She only came when the throne was secured, at least temporarily, Ethelind observed. She left the last time the Shadowharts were kicked out of power, but came back once they reclaimed a throne.

The one thing she could not understand was how Grace had such a retinue when the people in the Free Isles didn't believe in serving others.

Audrey seemed confused by the flattery, but managed a small nod at the girl.

"Then we shall show you all the courtesies that you deserve," Landon replied, taking his seat again on the throne. "You are welcome here, my lady."

"I am grateful to you and your kind hospitality." She turned to the three ladies behind her. "These are my close friends, Hatsuko, Terumi, and Emiko. And this is Akina, a very skilled samurai, and Gioffre, a dear, who was unfairly exiled from the West."

Friends? Ethelind frowned. People rarely spoke openly of having friends while in court.

Ethelind noticed the flush of Gioffre's cheek and how he could not stop staring at Grace. He was infatuated with her, she realised, and noted it for later. The three ladies swept into curtseys, and Gioffre and Akina bowed.

"Welcome," Landon nodded.

"I will not keep you for any longer, but we must catch up later, Your Majesty." Grace smiled and turned to her people as they joined the crowds. She didn't seem fazed by the curious eyes on her, acting as if she was used to intruding on coronations.

Even Landon had been caught off-guard. Whatever his plans were, he had obviously not planned the sudden return of a cousin.

"Now for the ball." His smile was forced.

The crowds cheered, all ladies and lords of high wealth. The commoners had all left after the banquet, not deemed worthy enough to be present for much longer.

Ethelind looked back to find Landon's mask briefly dropping, changing into something that she could not read.

Ethelind let the crowds carry her along, Jax beside her while they were pushed towards the ballroom. The floor was made of polished wood, and a band was set to the side, playing music on a range of instruments. Ethelind turned to Jax, latching onto his arm before he could leave.

"Let me at least have this dance," Ethelind said as the music began, and everyone got into place.

He hesitated. "I should stand guard with..."

"You can watch from the dance floor, can't you?" Ethelind saw him about to argue and held up a hand before he could. "Please? Just one, I promise."

Jax's purple eyes examined her before he relented, exhaling through his nose. "Just this one."

Ethelind smiled triumphantly before stepping closer, lacing a hand through his and placing another on his shoulder. He positioned himself too before they began to waltz, each step carefully placed. He was not as graceful as her, but he seemed to know what he was doing. Another thing that she had never known about Jaxon Fields.

Who knew Jax could dance? The thought made her want to smile.

"You dance well," Jax finally said.

"You too. How did you learn?" Ethelind asked.

"Evianna."

Ethelind's steps slowed slightly, guilt trying to break out of the chains she had trapped it in. "You remember being drugged."

"Every single bit. It was as if I couldn't control my body. I knew what I wanted to say and do, but I could do nothing about it. It was one of the worst experiences of my life," Jax said.

"And I used it to my advantage," Ethelind said quietly. "I asked you things I shouldn't have ever spoken aloud."

"You did. But I don't blame you."

"How so?"

"I want to know about you too, Ethelind Eternel."

Ethelind was silent as they glided across the floor.

"Then I owe you," Ethelind replied. "In return, you can ask me any three questions and I will have to answer. They can be any time and I swear on the gods to answer them truthfully."

Or at least as truthfully as I can, she didn't add.

"What inspired you to sword fight?" he asked instantly, as if he had prepared the question earlier.

"Survival," Ethelind responded after a second. "I... quarrelled with my parents, and they lost respect for me. I knew that if I wanted to find my way in life, I would have to become exceptional at something. Not just good. Exceptional. So one day I just picked up a sword and began to practise on straw dummies until I was good enough to try guards. I got bruised a lot."

Jax nodded but did not speak again, not even when the dance was over. He bowed before melting into the crowds, not even turning to say goodbye to her.

She didn't have trouble finding dance partners. Most people could be won over with a simple smile, and there was never a lack of people asking for her hand in a dance. She accepted a few but declined most. None of the dances meant as much as Jax's did, but, no matter how much she searched for Jax's familiar blonde hair, she could not find him. Grace was easy to find, on the contrary, as she glided effortlessly across the dance floor with different partners every time Ethelind looked, a smile or laugh almost always bubbling from the girl's lips.

She was vaguely aware when the music turned more upbeat and she finally caught sight of Jax, leaning against the wall with some other guards, with a hand on his sword. His eyes were on Landon, who he had sworn to protect, and Ethelind didn't even try to approach him again.

He is too loyal, Ethelind thought. He lives for those stupid Shadowharts, that chivalrous bastard.

It hurt to know that he would kill her if Landon ever issued the order.

She turned and offered her hand to another man to try and distract herself from her own thoughts.

And now enters one of my favourite characters, Grace Shadowhart :))

I tried to base each state on different political systems and cultures but the Free Isles and the West have to be my favourites

Love you all,

Shelly M x