Katryna smiled with happiness. One of the only people she was eager to see again upon returning home.
The chains lifting the portcullis up groaned under the immense weight. The guard bowed to Katryna as a gesture of apology, handing her back the letter, and stepping aside.
The company rode into the bailey. Katryna jumped down from her horse, placing the reins into Trish’s hands, and running up to Finn with open arms. They embraced one another.
“Creator, it’s been too long!” Katryna said. She took in his scent and his warmth, letting it absolve the hurt still in her heart.
Finn kissed his sister’s cheek, and they looked at each other, studying how their faces had changed and grown.
“Kat, the last time I saw you-”
“You were only six years old!” Katryna said. “Now look at you, you are a young man!”
Finn had really grown into his looks. He had stunning blue eyes, was clean-shaven, and his dimpled cheeks reminded Katryna of his exciting, mischievous youth. His fair curls flowed down the side of his face. They ought to make the girls go crazy.
“It’s so good that you came,” Finn said, his smile slowly fading.
“We got here as fast as we could. Redwatch is a long ride away.”
“I know,” Finn replied, trying to comfort his sister. “I know.”
Katryna rubbed her hands awkwardly. “I wish we had a chance to catch up properly, but…”
“It’s best we go inside, first. We can find time later for catching up.”
Katryna paused, unsure if she wanted the answer to the question she was about to ask. “Is… is father…”
“He’s still hanging on,” Finn said. “Mother passed the day before I wrote the letter to you.”
Katryna felt tears welling in her eyes but refused to let them free. Her mother’s death brought anguish to her heart. She had never been able to patch things up with her, and for so many years, the two had lived separate lives across the world to avoid one-another.
But Katryna felt no glee in her mother’s death. Only sadness, only regret. She could not deny the relief to know her father was still clinging on, though.
Finn held his sister again, tightly, recognising that she needed to be consoled.
“I’ve missed you, baby brother,” Katryna whispered in his ear.
Several servants arrived to take the horses to the royal stables and bring the travellers’ bags inside. As they got off their horses, they bowed to their prince. Trish curtseyed elegantly.
“Come on, we should head inside.” Finn held her hand. “The family is all here, and we have a lot to discuss.”
The day Katryna had been dreading had finally arrived. She held her head up strong while gritting her teeth in anxiety.
The prince and princess made their way into Castle Bower.
Chapter 5 - Embrace
The plush palanquin that King Emery Blacktree was resting in shook as his servants carrying it struggled taking it up the endless stairs of Chateau Cardell.
Emery had kept the shutters closed as soon as they had entered Andervale. The crowds that had gathered around were boisterous and the trip from Dawnhill had been a long one. While he couldn’t blame them for their excitement at the king of Ashen’s royal visit, the last thing he wanted to do was put on a smile and wave to strangers.
The palanquin, while luxurious, became cramped after a while. Years of being stuffed into it like a fish in a barrel did little to ease the muscle-stiffening and claustrophobia that came with long trips.
Across from him on the other seat was Queen Sirillia, still asleep against a tasselled cushion despite the noise and the bumpiness. Emery needed to protect his wife from any sort of stress, so he let her sleep.
Despite being roughly the same age as Emery, in his fourth decade, Sirillia’s skin was wrinkled and pale. She was exhausted from the previous night when a bad fever had ravaged her once again.
Emery had insisted she stay back home in Dawnhill. Andervale was a long way away, but Sirillia was adamant that she attend the wedding of her daughter, no matter the cost to her failing health.
A knock came on the window of the palanquin, waking Sirillia up from her deep slumber. Emery rolled his eyes before sliding the shutter open. A beam of bright light illuminated the lavish palanquin, and in with it came the scents of smoked meats, incense and sea spray.
“Yes? What is it?” Emery said. He hurriedly found his crown and placed it atop his head. He loathed the thought of some lord catching a glimpse of him in an unkempt state. That would be quite the story for the nobility.
Ser Yelin Mortimer was pacing beside the palanquin with a bright red face. The overweight royal guard was feeling every degree of the western heat in his black and silver armour. The shield sigil of Ashen was imprinted into his chestplate.
“Forgive me, my king,” Yelin huffed, sensing Emery’s frustration. “I just wanted to make you aware that we are about to enter the Chateau Cardell bailey. The Seynards are sure to be receiving us shortly.”
Emery nodded, adjusting his crown until it sat in the perfect spot atop his well-washed black curls. “Thank you, Ser Yelin. And Ciana, is she alright?”
“Aye, my king. Giddy to get out and stretch her legs, though.”
“Make sure she is prepared to greet the Seynards.”
“Aye, my king.”
“Any word of Petir and Jodie, yet?” Emery added.
Yelin nodded. “They sent a rider to let us know they will be late. Their carriage lost a wheel on the road earlier in the day. They requested the festivities go on without them.”
“If there’s one thing I know about Caldaeans, it is that the festivities wait
