The North - Mountainous terrain separates this area from the rest of the world. It deals with cold, harsh winters and brief fleeting summers. The men are fierce, and the women are fiercer. A true and loyal people who keep to the old ways.
The South - The trading capital of the world that boasts a temperate climate. With a thriving economy, and trade coming in from all over the world it is considered to be a prime location for innovation.
The Riverlands - A land brimming over with water. It boasts the best sailors and healers, as the land is full of mysterious plants and animals.
The Tribal Islands - Barbaric tribes rule this area - and are at constant battle with the other kingdoms over their mineral resources.
The Desertlands - Full of an exotic and rich culture. It is a leading exporter of spices and goods such as silk and gold.
The Red Wastelands - Not much is known about this vast land... as those who venture there never seem to return.

Ayra’s eyes were fixed upon the vanity mirror as one of her ladies in waiting brushed through her red tresses and styled it upon her head in some pretentious southern fashion. The look was foreign to her, so instead of looking at herself, her eyes were tracing the designs so beautifully crafted into the frame of the mirror. Argent and or – so different from each other, yet so beautifully wound together in the wooden frame. Sighing, she hoped that she could bring the North and South to do the same – but the differences between the two were more than just color. Culture, religion... even hairstyles were so vastly different! Yet she was supposed to unite them... but putting the two together would be like personifying an oxymoron! The North held onto tradition, and the South seemed to fling it to the side... The North, where honour ruled was foreign to the money-is-power mentality of the South! There was just no way tha-

“Pardon me, Your Grace... But do you not find this style to your liking?” The girl asked, nervously. Ayra’s eyes went to her through the mirror, confused for a moment until she realized her eyebrows were furrowed distastefully. Relaxing her look, she offered up a warm smile to the girl.
“No, it looks wonderful – ladies will be seeking me out at court to find out who put it together so nicely.” The girl smiled at the compliment, before continuing on with the braiding and pinning and dabbing of scented oils in her hair. It was a shock that anything got done in the South with so much time being spent on hair alone! Moving her eyes to the girl now, Ayra watched her work; being taken back to the North in her thoughts.
“Your name, may I ask your name?” She said suddenly – as thoughts of her own maidservant in the North came to her. She knew everyone by name in her household. Even the stable boy – especially the stable boy.
“My name, Your Grace?” The girl asked, as if it were an unusual question.
“Yes, so I may address you with it – and, in these private chambers m’lady will do.” She said, not unkindly.
“It’s Emila – Emila Harper Your G- M’lady.”
“Well, Emila... Thank you. Can you go fetch Lady Lovellette for me? But, do be careful. She’s like to have some awful creature in her bed.” Emila smiled sheepishly at her, before curtsying and making her leave.

Ayra, standing from the vanity took a moment to look at herself. Her auburn hair, which usually hung around her like a curtain was now up in an elaborate style that matched the intricacy of the gown she was wearing. It was so unlike the simple gowns in the North, designed for warmth and efficiency. No doubt Carrie was enjoying these southern luxuries, but they made her heartsick for home. Moving to the windows, she peeked down – from here she could clearly see the stables. She grinned, as she spotted Isaac, a member of her own household that came from the North with her – she insisted because she would trust no one else with her horses, but in truth she would just miss his friendship. Though, she had to do without many of her Northern friends, as only a handful of guards and her stable boy came with her. Carrie too of course, but the two were hardly apart for very long, and since Carrie’s father was a lord under her father – The King- he could hardly disallow Carrie from coming along. Though – Ayra doubted her best friend would let her go out and have some southern fun without her!

She watched Issac until another servant girl stepped up to him, whispering something in his ear. Ayra's smile disappeared. What she wouldn`t give to be some bastard born welp! Free to do as she pleased, and whom. Perhaps if she were more like Carrie she could do as she pleased... but her maidenhead was the price for an alliance between two nations which may otherwise go to war against one another. If that was the price for peace... so be it... She would simply have to live precariously through her best friend. Turning from the window, her smile came back – this time with a mischievous edge to it.

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Marsay paced in her common room – after already have summoned Nathniel Sandvoss, a young soldier in her sons guard.
The plan, if it worked out, would be one of her more brilliant ideas. She would keep the alliance intact with the North, ensuring their help if the Riverlands rebelled – all the while making sure she stayed in power over the King. Young boys were so impressionable – and though he was an obedient young child, she couldn’t take any chances – this Northern barbarian had already insisted on attending council meetings and to always be present at court when the King addressed his people. She had yet to do anything, or say anything – but Marsay could see in her eyes the disapproving looks and the small shakes of her head.


This girl was an obvious problem – a problem that needed to be dealt with. She had mulled over it, for the two weeks the girl had already been here, during the wedding ceremony even – and the weeks it took for her to even arrive. Though, the plan only hit her the morning after the wedding. When the bride was supposed to emerge from her chambers, no longer a blushing maid – but a women flowered and deflowered... But, instead the Northern girl awoke as always, in her own room – alone.

That was the brilliance of the plan! This poor virgin bride was in her peak years; her body would be telling her to do it! And it would get the Northern brat out of her hair, for good. Now, she just needed to ensure she had the right man for the job – though the knight could be a bit aloof at time... he was a big hit with the ladies – and he shouldn’t have any qualms about helping her out...especially with the reward she was going to offer.

She head a knock at the door and spun around, with a quick 'Enter' the person opened the door and walked in the room. The disappointment was obvious on her face, as it was not the Knight, but the girl she assigned to be the Northern girls maidservant.
"Well, what do you want?" She snapped, turned back around to continue her pacing.
"Your Grace... I- I just wanted to say that nothing out of the ordinary has happened. Lady Eci seems very... normal, if not just a bit northernly."
"You stupid girl! I said come to me if anything unordinary happens! I do not care to hear that Miss Eci is normal. Be gone!" The girl curtsied, and rushed out.

Was there anyone with a brain at this court?!

The fleeing form of the girl was replaced with a more appealing one as Nathaniel finally stepped forward into the room. With a sigh of relief the Queen nodded to him in acknowledgement before taking a seat on one of her finely crafted couches. With a sigh, she relaxed into the couch; any stress that had built up during her pacing had now vanished at the site of this handsome young man. Had she any doubt at all? If so, it was misplaced, her mind trying to talk her out of this brilliant plan. Of course it would work – she had thought of it, hadn’t she? With Nathan’s strikingly beautiful face and knightly physique he could charm and woo the most abstinent of women... and what his looks couldn’t achieve, his honeyed tongue would.

“Come, sit my loyal friend. As this will not be a day’s task.” She began her voice welcoming, but for those with a trained ear, each word she said gave away her noble birth, her pride... Her sultry undertones made obvious that she demanded attention, and was most like to get it from any man she so desired. Yes, she knew the game. “And, though I have complete confidence in your...” She paused for a moment, her tongue clicking in her mouth as she eyed him. “Talents. I fear it may not be easy.”

“I want you to bed that Northern princess.” She refused to call her Queen. She was the Queen! “Bed her, than oust her as a harlot. In any manner you wish – I simply want her name blackened darker than soot – her reputation to be worth less than a common whore’s!” She paused, catching her rising voice before any nosy ears could hear her. Almost pleasantly, as if talking about the weather she continued. “This of course, as you know will be treason against the King... But you will be free of any punishment, so long as you make a public display of begging penance from the King or atonement from the priests... Say the Ice-Princess seduced you... Say anything! I will have no public outcry for her mercy; she must be seen to be as cold as the place she comes from.”

The dark look on her face vanished once she was finished talking, now she was simply judging the others reaction. There should be no qualms on his part – the antisocial person he was... He would have no problem destroying this girl – and that was exactly what Marsay wanted.

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Ayra heard her friend’s footsteps in the hallway, and gleefully turned towards the door. She knew Carrie would be preparing herself for the spectacle that was her. And she was a spectacle, done up like this. Though, once her friend came through the door she couldn’t help but play along and twirl around in the dress to show it off. “I know – it’s rather dreadful, isn’t it?” She said, before breaking into a fit of giggles as she grabbed her friends hand and pulled her towards the small couch that sat in front of the fireplace. “I really suppose it isn’t that bad. Though, you can take my place next time – you would look far better than me all dressed up, not that you need it.” She exclaimed, meaning it wholeheartedly. Her best friend was always a head-turner - she could turn men to putty with a sideways glance in their general direction. “And I’m sure I’d be happy to take your place... What sort of handsome creature crawled out of your bed this morning?” She bit her bottom lip sheepishly, imagining what it would be like to wake up next to someone other than a serving girl. Looking down at her dress, Ayra smoothing it out across her lap. Something she normally wouldn’t pay much mind too... But when dressed the part, the mannerisms just fell into place.

Looking back up, seeing her friend just filled her heart with joy. This – this was why Carrie was her best friend. She could talk freely, not worry about ‘lady this’ and ‘pardon me that’. She could probably swear openly too. Bugger those bloody manners all to hell goddammit! She smiled inwardly at the thought. She had been so busy since she arrived that she barley had time for the other. She really was her best friend. Though, it ran much deeper than that, they were like sisters - she would trust the other with her life. ...Or in this case – with her secret plan.

“So – as you know... I’ve been cooped up in this castle since we got here. Cousin meetings, the rushed wedding, and the inauguration... It all feels too soon, I don’t yet know the people and the people don’t know me – and it seems I’m not to be given the chance to get to know the city. For my safety, I’m told I must remain in the castle. That’s why I called for you.” The devious sparkle in her eye lit up as she leaned in closer. “I need you to help me sneak out of the castle.”

With the help of her friend, and of Issac of course, she should be able to do it. How was she expected to rule over a country when she didn't even know its people? Besides, the foreign atmosphere would seem much less foreign if she could just get used to it all! Get a moment away from castle life to let it all sink in. Besides, what fun adventures awaited her and her friends beyond the castle gates! The city, so full of life was sure to give them good pillow-stories to talk about late at night, once they were back within the castle walls.

An anxious handmaid was currently running through the halls of the castle, searching frantically for something. A look of fear in her eye as if what she were searching for would cost her life if not found. A call, verging on hysterical insanity left her lips. “Your Grace?” She repeated it, sticking her head into a room, a shake of a dustmans head sent her back into the hallway - hiking up her skirts, plain and grey as she was only a maid of the castle – no one of much importance. She continued, running down the next corridor. If she could not find him, it would be her head! How hard was it to find a young boy in a castle? What trouble could he possibly get int-Ouf “Pardon me, sir... Oh! Ser Sandvoss! You ‘aven’t happen’d to ‘ave seen the King, ‘ave you?” She asked with a hopeful gleam in her eyes, as she wrung her hands nervously.

Moving a stray piece of hair that had come undone from its bun, her eyes continued to look around, as if the boy may be right behind the knights startling figure. It truly was not her fault. She was simply to get the boy bathed and dressed – but once she went to go check the bath water, the King and the clothes she left out for him were gone. Was she truly expected to be in two places at once – where had his bloody guards been! Her eyes widened. His guards! Well, one of them was standing right here in front of her... she wouldn’t have to take the blame if the boy was truly missing! “It seems that he managed to sneak past ya and out of ‘is chambers this mornin’.” She replied saucily, her nervous tone gone – to be replaced with an arrogance that only one of such a low position could manage so well.

She was about to chastise the knight – as so often it was her receiving the harsh words for some slip up or another in her chores... It felt nice to be on the other side. But, she was cutoff as cheers from the courtyard sounded out, mingled with calls of “Good one Your Grace!” and “Hit him again My Liege!” She flew to the window, the knight behind her forgotten as real relief flooded her...Until she saw the sword in his hand!
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“Oh! I think you have me bested, Your Grace” A solider said, dropping his sword as a wooden one pressed into his chest plate. His actual opponent chuckled from across the courtyard as the knight feigned a loss from the boy King.
“Perhaps your Grace would like a real challenge?” The other asked, raising his sword in a mock ready-stance. Both of the knights had been going at it, sparring in the courtyard. Both were covered in dirt and a thin layer of sweat. They had paid no mind to the small figure watching them from the outskirts of the court, sliding in between the other knights awaiting their own turn. They paid him no mind, that is, until he jumped in with a resounding ‘Ayyah!’ his wooden sword drawn and ready for battle. They did not mind though, it brought them a comedic break from their training – and the entire palace was fond of the twelve year old boy.

“Alright than! Fetch me a real sword.” The King said, accepting the challenge. The crowd hesitated, but the boy stood up tall and ready, waiting for someone to do as he bid. And soon someone did comply, handing him a small sword crafted for swift blows and precise slices. The crowd cheered him on. Harold – Harry, held the sword in his hand, his brown eyes opening in awe at the blade. It was well crafted indeed, and the weight felt good in his hands. Let them try to make him sit at court today! He would stab them all! This was where he wanted to be, even though his mother disapproved. Even if he was just playing at being a knight, and his opponents faking their losses. It was more fun than playing at being a King – where he just signed papers all day! He turned towards the crowd, thrusting the sword into the air. The crowd bought into it, cheering louder now.

Moving his boyish brown hair out of his face he turned back to face his opponent. A grin on his face, but it fell once he saw his deranged maid standing behind the knight, hands on her hips. He grinned, sheepishly before bowing. “It seems Ser Robert, that you have been spared this time. Until next time.” He quickly ran to the side, putting the sword in a holster before returning to his maid’s side. When he saw that Nathan had appeared too, he grinned. “You won’t tell mother, will you?”

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Ayra joined her friend, laughing now. Of course she had already figured out an escape plan! With her aloof air, and her smiling face Carrie managed to pull Ayra out of the serious bubble she was in. She needn’t worry about sneaking out; she just needed to worry about what to do once she got there! Gripping her friends hands, she let herself be pulled through the corridors – barley noticing the discreet changes from luxury to lax as they entered the servant quarters. Kitchen boys and scullery maids alike smirked and winked – or looked the other way entirely... as if to say ‘We won’t tell’. What wonderful, glorious people! The kinds of people who served these southern lords and ladies without having them know their names!

As Carrie pulled her to her freedom – she could feel the fresh breeze of air, smell the horse dung mixing with scents of flowers from the garden. It was a welcome smell – it smelled of freedom. As Carrie landed on her backside, Ayra laughed good naturedly, before peeking over her should and spotting the young maid from her bedroom this morning – Emila. Quickly walking over, the Cheshire grin still on her face she noticed the two cloaks in Emila’s hand. “For your travels M’Lady.” Ayra winked, mouthing a ‘Thank You’ before returning to her friends. If she looked back, she would have seen a nervous look cross Emila’s face.

Fair lady... If she considered it – she would always think people were referring to her nature – that she was fair and just. Good traits to have as a ruler... But today she would allow herself to be vain, taking the compliment for what it was worth. “I think the market... Greyjoy could use some fresh apples I think!” She said affectionately, as she fashioned the cloak around her. It was plain, dusty, and smelled of the stables... But it hid the intricate dress underneath it that would, in the city, scream out who she was. Handing the other to Carrie, while keeping her eyes on Issac, she grinned. Lacing her arm with his. This was the best feeling in the world... Freedom. Sure, she had many people offer her tours around the city when she arrived – but it would not be the same. They were lords and ladies who wanted her favor, who kissed her hand and called her ‘Your Grace’ or ‘Princess’. And, no doubt their tours would be of the wharf, or the church... Not the heart of the city, where the people where.

“I’m sure there will be all sorts of thing there for us to see... I’ve heard the servants talking about it. They have stands for food of course – but others as well... Maybe we could have our fortune read! The south is known for their love of the supernatural! I think we should try and avoid the brothels though.” She said, peeking behind her shoulder and winking at Carrie.

For the rest of the walk into the ztown – Ayra couldn’t tell you what happened for she was too busy looking around in wonder. Whenever something caught her eye, she would grip Issac’s arm and point excitedly, or turn around and say to Carrie that she ‘has to have a look at this!’ It put her back to a time when she was just discovering what lay beyond the castle walls back North...When every little thing fascinated her childish mind – and every new corner promised a new adventure.

As their rushed, excited pace turned to a more slow-and-steady stroll, Ayra’s stomach gave her away with gurgle of complaint. She had skipped breakfast to come after all. And having lost track of time, it could very well be past dinner! Though the sun was still fairly high in the sky, so she suspected it to be closer to lunch. Her hands going to her stomach, and an embarrassed blush crossing her features she paused. “Well, now is as good a time as any to stop and eat - before I eat Greyjoy's apples!” She said, “And once you get past the initial stink of the city... all the goods in the market do smell quite delicious.” She chuckled.

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Marsay had a deviously evil smirk on her face. She could count on Nathan to be just as cunning as she needed. Though, being the smart woman that she was, she knew that this also came with his impudence. The close proximity, and the flinging of his dirty boots on her table. Both things that she would let slip.... After all, men were only men, they simply can’t help themselves. But these petty trivial things did not matter... What mattered was this delicious gossip.

She knew that the Northern girl had brought a small retinue along, as well as another Northern lady for companion ship...But this stable boy, perhaps if all else failed he could be bought. Men always came around when gold was involved.

Watching him leave, she allowed herself a small chuckle. Things would work out the way she wanted, they always did... Which was why her boorish husband was now in the ground. Ringing a bell for a maid to come in and clean the mess Nathan left behind, the Queen herself went to go sit in front of her vanity. He had called the Northern bitch a looker? Well – she would just have to make sure that no one would be looking in her direction. Clapping her hands together, two girls rushed in. “Hair.” She said simply, before her eyes moved to the other. “And you tighten my dress. I want to look so perky that the blubbering fools at court won’t know what else to look at.”

Ayra was completely confused, her hunger momentarily forgotten as she turned to stare at Isaac, her right eyebrow raised in question. Why would she care if he had washed? He could spend a week in a stable and she was sure she would still enjoy his scent... the stables always were appealing to her; they had a smell that she had grown fond of. Had coming to the South maid Isaac forget that she spent a good deal of her time with her horses!? That silly boy! Besides...She doubted she’d be able to even notice his scent at the moment, in slew of all the other smells around – especially the one emanating from the dusty old cloak she was wearing! It smelled mustier than Isaac would after a week without washing. Turning to her friend, as if looking for answers, her dainty eyebrows shot up in alarm.

He couldn’t detest them, surely... As far as she knew he never went without back North, unless he had a fancy for fine clothes and council meetings. Who was she to say really, she had been born into nobility – her life was set before her, her next meal never a question. With real distress, she too eyed the lake – he would tell her if he was unhappy, would he not? Ayra blocked out her friends rambling until she went and jump upon Isaac – startling her as well as him. A smile cracked her lips at his outburst, before she rolled her eyes at their antics. Perhaps she would go buy him some perfume, just to show them how silly they were being!

“Oh you two...” She mumbled, her grin turning into a sheepish smile at Carries suggestion. Of course she thought he was handsome, beautiful even in his stable-boy simplicity... But Carrie was the bold one of the two, not her so she dare not voice it. But the image of Isaac in a dress sent her into a fit of giggles. His broad shoulders and muscular build would be more suited to chainmail and armor – like the knight he played at being when they were younger, when he’d save them from the ‘dragons’.

Head turning towards Isaac and his flailing arms she looked at Carrie, feeling much braver about voicing her opinions now that Isaac was out of hearing range. “I don’t know, I think I’d much prefer to watch him pay for it with his body.” She said smartly, giggling at her own gumption. Winking at her friend she grabbed her skirts, and with a squeal of glee she was running after the other, ready to dig into whatever meal the road-side stand had to offer. In her haste, she didn’t notice the young boy before knocking into him. Slowing, but not stopping she quickly chirped a ‘Sorry! Pardon me!’

With a laugh, and some odd looks from villages as to why these three people seemed to be enjoying themselves so much, he grabbed onto Isaac and Carrie’s hands and marched up with them to the vendor. “Good day sir! We’ll have three plates of your finest cuts! And, perhaps a pinch of mint for my friend here to help with his breath once he’s finished.” She said, winking at Isaac and nudging him with her hip so he would know she were only kidding around. The food smelled delicious, for coming from such a place – and it tasted just as good as it smelled! With her rump parked between her friends, she chewed thoughtfully – before tilting her head first on Carries shoulder, than Isaac’s affectionately. “You guys really are the best! Today has been so much fun; I almost forgot what it was like to really laugh!” She could have continued, but shouts coming from the other side of the bridge silenced her and drew her attention, and the attention of many others it seemed.

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Harry turned around in shock as one of the guards who had been escorting him struck down a peasant man. He was fearful for a second, until the man had his hands tied behind his back. His mother had taught him to be wary of peasants – because more often than not they mean you harm. he recalled, taking a step away from the dirty man. Eying him suspiciously, he noted his soiled trousers, and matted hair – and felt bad for the other, until his knight handed him back his golden pocket watch. That had belonged to his father! And this man had tried to steal it? The twelve year olds eyes darkened – he disliked people messing with his father’s things... especially if they were trying to steal them.

He told the man to explain himself, but was much more focused on the fact that now his fun was ruined. Nathan and a few of the soldiers had taken him into town – a rare treat indeed. And it didn’t take long for the observant young boy to notice a familiar red haired girl. “Hey! Isn’t that my lady wife?” He had asked. He noticed she was dressed as a peasant. What fun! Nathan had told him it was a game, and that he had to go spy on her without her catching him. If he were caught than that would mean he lost – and that wouldn’t be much fun at all!

He had been about to return to Nathan, to tell him what he had overheard – because that was a part of the game – to be honest, the chatter didn’t make much sense to him. How the stable boy was smelly and handsome, and liked to dress like a woman. What kind of man would want to dress like a woman? The idea was absurd! But, perhaps it would make a good show for the fools at court!

“Your Grace?”

“Yes?” The boy asked, being pulled from his wandering thoughts.

“We would like to know how you’d like to deal with this... creature.” One of the soldiers said, spitting at the last word. Nathan turned his baby brown eyes to the man again, knowing that he should be punished – for no one was allowed to steal from the King, but he really didn’t want to chop the man’s hands off. The thought made him squirm.

“I- I don’t know.” He admitted at last, looking up to Nathan. “The dungeons I suppose.” He finally said. The guard nodded, hitting the man. He fell over, and the guard continued to pull and drag him away. People were losing interest now, as he man continued to plea and beg. He should be glad it was only the dungeons! He would keep the man there until he decided what to do with him.

Moving to stand beside Nathan, he spotted the familiar red hair in the crowd again – as she eyed them angrily while others in the crowd were now fully uninterested and were going about their daily business. Pulling on Nathan’s cloak, to get him to bend over so he could whisper in his ear, he said “I think we were found out.” While discreetly pointing in Ayra’s direction.

Ayra had obviously been the only one of the trio who had witnessed the exchange between the guards and the peasant, for the other two were still laughing so raucously that Ayra began to feel her anger was misplaced – really...she would worry about all that after, perhaps go talk to the man in the dungeons once they returned to the castle or- her thoughts were cut off as Isaac wrapped an arm around her neck. She let out a vey unladylike squeal as he began to tickle her with his other hand. Her face getting flushed from the laughter, her hands quickly brought themselves up to his arm, to try and free herself from his grasp – for is she laughed any longer she was sure she would pass out! Her hands skirted along his forearm, looking for a place to grab on to to free herself but in the back of her mind she couldn’t help noticing how strong it was, she could trace the outline of the muscle if she wanted to. Now, she knew he was strong, but to feel it made the difference, made it real – she would have liked to continue feeling him - if she weren’t laughing so hard. Instead her hands began pounding on his arm for mercy!

Isaac had let up for a moment, giving her a second to breath – while she knew Carrie would be laughing her face off at the helpless position she was in, she knew that with enough pleading she could probably convince the other to come to her aide – especially if it meant she got to freely beat on Isaac some more! But, before the she could get out her cry for help Carrie shut her up. Isaac wasn’t groping her... but the suggestion made her already flushed cheeks turn a darker shade of red – along with her ears. Her head tilted towards Isaac, as she contemplated the action. There were more pros than cons that she counted in her head. Firstly, she knew it would make him stop tickling her – which she had been trying to accomplish since he started [well, only half-trying, she didn’t mind he feel of his arms around her], secondly – it may be her last chance to kiss someone until the boy king grew up. And even then, it would be the last chance with someone that she maybe, perhaps, wanted to kiss. Then there was Carrie... though the gossip and gushing that would ensure could possibly make its way into the con categories... As her lips parted slightly, and she leaned in closer – her eyes only fixed upon his lips at this moment – she considered the last pro before going through with it... if, by some chance, he rejected it – she could brush it off as a joke, and leave with her dignity seemingly intact...After all, it was just a kiss right?

Realizing that Isaac had stopped tickling her, in fact, had visibly tensed and moved away from her. Her eyebrows knit together in confusion. Then, panicky, her mind raced to the conclusion that perhaps he had realized what she was about to do and had moved away from her. She had begun to feel the bitter sting of rejection, until she realized that Carrie was now sitting between, them. Her eyes fallowed the girl’s eyes and realized that their game of play-the-peasant had been compromised, and they had been caught.

Swallowing back all her emotions, she felt herself slowly switching into diplomatic Ayra – after all, she knew word would get back to the palace now that she had gone out... “No, Carrie... I’m afraid not – I’m sure I would remember having him in my marriage bed.” She gulped, her cheeks still flushed red as she got out once last care-free comment before the King – he husband- arrived with who she assumed to be one of his house-hold knights. From under the table, her hands moved to Carrie’s. Though it didn’t show on her face, she was nervous. If this went in the wrong direction, it could be bad...not just for her, but for Carrie and Isaac as well. Though, since Carrie was high-born, the only real danger lay to Isaac. Swallowing back, she made her face into a diplomatic mask – smoothed out by the lines of pleasantry and small talk she was about to make to fix the situation. The only sign that she was anything less than composed was the tight squeeze she gave Carrie’s hand.

Ayra grew less worried at each word the knight – Ser Sandvoss as it would seem – spoke. Perhaps it was the melodious tone to his voice, or the way he was so playful and gentle with the king – but she was sure she did not have to worry.

“I am blessed to have a husband with such acute eyes.” She started, “To have noticed me, despite the peasant cloak I adorned.” She smiled at the young boy, who looked up to Nathan at the compliment – it was easy to see how he looked up to him so. “But, I am glad, as we are finally able to be introduced; anyone who is a friend of the Kings is a friend of mine.” She stood now, as was polite to do so. She knew her friends would forgive her for becoming her boring political self ...she just wished Isaac would stop looking so petrified.

She felt as though Ser Sandvoss was judging her, as she didn`t fail to miss his fall in expression. She knew her hair was messy, and her face flushed. Clearing her throat delicately, she continued. “I would hope, too, that the King would make the acquaintance of my friends as well. Lady Carrie Lovellette and Isaac Aeoniran.” [She had thought against drawing attention to them at first...but she was feeling more confident now, and she knew Carrie would be devastated if she didn’t introduce her to this ‘sexy beast of a man’.]

She felt in control of the situation now – that was until the boy King spoke up. “Nathan, what does my Lady Wife win, since she won the game?” Now she felt thoroughly confused, the panic began to rise up again... Then it hit her – they had been fallowing her! But...the distraction with the peasant gave them away. She doubted they were supposed to be here anymore than she was herself! “Oh, no one has one yet Your Grace... We need to get back to the palace first – and make sure that Lady Rolland doesn’t find out...Or else we’ll both lose!” Mock horror lit up her face as she bent down to his level. “Now, see, my two friends are not as sneaky as I am....And I’m afraid they may need some help. Would you mind helping them sneak back to the castle? Me and Ser Sandvoss will fallow right behind you – to make sure no one sneaks up behind you!”

She turned her head, giving Carrie and Isaac an apologetic look – but, she had some questions that needed to be asked, and she couldn’t very well do that with the King right there. She hoped her eyes said enough, and that they gave her friends the promise of an explanation later. Standing, as she watched the retreating figure of the King and her two friends – and in her peripherals, the body of guards moving forward as well.

Breathing a sign, she turned towards Nathan, a cold look in her eye – as only one in the North could give. She began walking though, eyes staying forward now as she fallowing the King back up to the palace. She was silent for a moment before speaking. “Did the Queen instruct you to fallow me, or will this simply be something you report to her later?” She asked. Though she knew nothing of the Queen’s vicious intentions – she couldn’t help but feel as though the woman didn’t trust her. After all, she didn’t even let her out of the palace walls – without someone keeping an eye on her it seemed.

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Harry had giggled as little kids do as he was swung up on Nathans shoulders. But, despite the laughter he did feel a bit downtrodden. Though, he wasn’t a poor sport, and now they had to go and see his Lady Wife and announce her victor! Though, Nathan made his cheeks grow hot when he said he had called Ayra pretty. She was of course... but she didn’t need to know he thought that! She was fun too, as she quickly announced that no one had won yet... That means he didn’t lose!

Glancing quickly up at Nathan for approval before he took off, his heart was set on sneaking back into the palace...thought it wouldn’t quite be sneaking, as his guards were all around him and sure to announce their arrival at the gate – but fun was fun! ”Come on!” he said to Ayra’s friends motioning for them to fallow him. ”You see, we have to be quiet and sneaky, like a Knight trying to sneak up on a dragon!” He said, bending his knees slightly and looking around –unawares that he just compared his mother to a sleeping dragon. Turning back around to make sure they were doing it right, he took a moment to contemplate each of them. The lady, Lady Lovellette and the boy... Lord? Ser...? He didn’t remember Ayra saying. Pausing for a moment, a puzzled look fell across his features.

“Aeoniran – what is your title exactly... I don’t recall my Lady wife mentioning it.” Looking behind his shoulders, as if to make sure no one was going to catch them – as he could see the castle gates now – he soon looked back to the other. Perhaps he was a knight from the North! He certainly looked strong enough!