Chapter 2 - Idynn

I woke to the sound of chaos.

Heavy, booted feet stomping around outside my door, accompanied by muffled calls and the sound of a plate breaking. I groaned, throwing my arm over my face. Rays of sunlight danced through the gaps in the curtains, and the golden brightness of it looked like...

Oh, Hells, the Princess! Today was the day the Soneran delgation arrived. Today, I'd learn whether my country would be saved or doomed.

I darted out of bed, prepared myself as best and as fast as I could, and left to wake the princess. I squeezed down the crowded corridors, pushing past maids and soldiers alike, until I reached the room of Princess Mirea Athene.

I'd been friends with the princess since we were children, and in private, we treated each other like equals. Her father, King Odern, never suspected that her daughter could get up to all sorts of mischief, and I covered for her whenever I could. Today, however, was too important.

I flung the doors open and hollered, 'Good orning, Princess!'

No one answered. Her bedsheets were rumpled and there was a bump underneath the blanket. I whipped it off, ready to greet the Princess, but all I found was a very disgruntled mound of dark, stripey fur.

Frey, Mirea's cat, blinked blearily at me. Then he hissed.

I stuck my tongue out at him and dropped the covers.

Her changing room was empty, as was the washroom. A dress hung on the wardrobe, clearly meant for Mirea to wear to the Soneran arrival. It was made of a thick wool, dyed a deep Navhëlm blue and embroidered with white thread. A collar of pristine white fur ringed the neckline. Bear, from the looks of it.

I touched the mangled old fringe of brown fur that my plain dress had and looked away.

Princess Mirea's dress was clearly a message from her father: be a good princess, put on the dress, and come greet our guests.

No wonder Mirea hadn't worn it.

She had to be somewhere in the castle. I left her room and started calling her name, ignoring the looks the rest of the servants gave me. Being late would get Mirea into trouble, and I shuddered to think how the King would react if he discovered it was my fault.

'Princess Mirea!' Maybe I should ask some of the guards to help search for her. 'Princess Mire—mmph!'

Someone had slapped a hand over my mouth and dragged me to a dark alcove. I struggled but before I could bite my attacker's palm to scream for help, they let go of me.

'Idynn! Idynn, it's me!'

I'd know that voice anywhere. 'Mirea! Where have you been?'

Mirea grinned. Her hair was a wild tangle of golden curls, probably because she didn't bother to tidy it after getting out of bed. She was wearing one of my dresses; it was a muted red and brown, with the same mangled fur trim. I looked at her, the Princess of Navhëlm, so out of place in the plain clothes of a servant, and thought of the pristine white fur that lay in wait for her.

'Princess, you need to wear that blue dress. His Royal Majesty wants you to greet the Soneran ambassadors, and I really do not want to get into trouble.'

'Please, Idynn, I'm not going. My father doesn't need me, and I'll be so lonely in the hall without you.' She grabbed my shoulders and pouted. 'They're almost here anyway, so there's no time to prepare. I'm staying with you and we can spy on them together!'

This was an order from the Princess. I grimaced but relented. 'Fine, but let me tie your hair back at least.'

She beamed at me, sunlight spilling from her smile, and nodded.

I loosened the gray ribbon around my hair. It was old and worn, fading from years of use but it was the most expensive thing I owned. Small magic infused in the silk meant that any hair tied with it would be slightly brushed out and neatened.

The Princess let me finish bundling her hair up into a tamer mane, then she took my hand. She always got what she wanted, after all, and I've never been able to say no to those blue eyes.

'I hope it's Prince Trisan,' she whispered. 'I want to know if he's as handsome as everyone says he is.'

I smiled, caught up in her excitement. 'Me too.'

Better the handsome and charming Prince Trisan than his dreadful brother.

'In exchange for your ribbon. Keep this safe for me, will you?'

I glanced at the piece of metal she carelessly dropped in my hands. A silver circlet engraved with curling patterns of oak leaves that cradled three sapphires embedded in the middle. It was her tiara, I realised, nearly dropping it in shock.

I could work till my hands were gnarled and my face wrinkled, and I still wouldn't be able to afford just the silver it was made of. I looked up but Mirea had already marched off, so I stuffed it into my pockets and hoped it wouldn't fall out.

Making the princess miss the welcoming ceremony and losing a precious family heirloom. I shuddered as I imagined meeting the King's furious gaze and bearing his infamous wrath.

Oh, Hells. I'd rather be executed.

The grand hall was bustling with activity when we stopped at its doors. The King's Chieftains were pouring inside, along with a few minor nobles and guards. Instead of heading inside, Mirea dragged me to a set of dusty stairs in the corner. It led to a dark and tiny passageway and further into a storage room above the grand hall. She shoved a dusty painting of some Athene ancestor aside to reveal a hole in the wall.

We'd discovered this place years ago; it was used to store old paintings and broken furniture, and was now a forgotten corner of the castle with a hole that no one patched. It was shadowed by tapestries and peeked out right above the throne, giving us full view of the hall except for the dais where the throne was. It meant we couldn't see the King's face, and I was secretly grateful for that.

Mirea and I huddled around the hole.

King Odern Athene of Navhëlm must have been sitting at his place, as the chieftains were all gathered around the throne. Some of their discussion drifted up, and I caught snatches of it:

'—are useless. Our silver mines—'

'—better be the blonde one, but do they need the funds? An alliance—'

'—wouldn't dare. It's the height of winter—'

It was too loud for me to stay with one conversation for long. I shivered, snuggling closer to the wall. The room was chilly, unconnected to the castle's heating, and I could feel the warmth of the great hall seep through the hole. Mirea must have heard my teeth chatter because she flung an arm around my shoulders and hugged me close. Oh well, no turning back now.

A horn blew, the sound echoing in the hall.

Silence fell.

King Odern was about to speak. I snuck a glance at Mirea—her eyes were the same stormy blue as her father's and she had his wild golden curls. King Odern was firm but fair to his people, a good king.

And a terrible father to Mirea.

'Hear me, my countrymen,' King Odern boomed. He stood and stepped into view, and the chieftains turned to face him. 'It does not matter who Sonera has chosen to send to us. We will face them as we have always done, as proud Navhëlmen with our heads raised high. I will do what I must to keep our people safe, and I trust that with your council, Navhëlm will continue to prosper. Remember your duty. Now, let us give our guest the welcome he deserves.'

It was a good speech, as it accounted for either prince showing their face. The chieftains roared their assent and fell silent at a gesture from King Odern. I couldn't see his face from my spot, but I knew his huge, bearded face was as impassive as a statue.

Crouched next to me, Mirea huffed. All this talk of duty, and the Princess of Navhëlm was not at her father's side. I wondered if she felt guilty about that.

It as a good thing the King was preoccupied by other things, like the future of his kingdom heralded by the arrival of either the Summer Prince or the Winter Prince.

A second horn sounded, this one higher and longer. I shivered again but not from the cold.

The Soneran delegation was here.