Book One: Chapter 2

Eunbi had expected Lady Sakura to settle in after only a few days. Her expectations of the lady had been that the soft, southern woman would stay to her rooms, smile and bow her head and generally fade into the background of the castle until they would forget she was there. Hopefully, she had naively thought, Yunho would forget more quickly than others and stop the line up of tasters testing her food and hoards of guards on longer hours. Unfortunately, the noblewoman is making this a lot more difficult than it should be.

During the feast marking her first night in the castle, Lady Sakura had been misleadingly quiet and reserved. Seated between Lady Gwendoline and Sir Farthing, she had stayed mostly quiet, pushing her food around her plate, and Eunbi had done her the kindness of not engaging her in conversation. The girl was clearly uncomfortable and missing her homeland. She had it on good authority that Lady Sakura left only moments after she did, at the first sign of respectability. Hence, Eunbi had anticipated that the lady would stay mostly to her rooms. What she had not expected was to find Hyewon searching for the woman on a regular basis. While she did not want Lady Sakura to feel as though she were under armed guard, it was both to appease Yunho’s fears and her own worries about the lady’s safety that she had instructed Hyewon to be at her side at all times. Instead, she often saw Lady Sakura from the windows of the library, wandering the battlements alone, or staring out at the wilderness. If she stayed at the window after informing her guards, and watched until the noblewoman was approached and led back inside, it was only for the girl’s safety.

The clashing of steel echoes through the courtyard and a shout draws her attention away from her thoughts. Chaeyeon is staggering away, rolling his shoulder and grinning good naturedly at Chaewon. The soldiers scattered around the training yard call out taunts and teases, and Chaeyeon throws a gesture their way that Eunbi is sure Lady Sakura would blush to see. It makes her smile to see Chaewon wipe away a bead of sweat from her forehead.

“You cheated.” Chaeyeon calls, slotting his sword into its scabbard.

“Wars aren’t fair,” Chaewon informs him and the hint of sharpness in her voice catches Eunbi’s attention, enough that she descends the last step into the training ground.

“It is a good thing we aren’t looking to fight any wars soon then, Lady Mormont.”

Chaewon spins to look at her, brows tightening for a moment, before bowing her head briefly. “Your majesty. It’s always best to be prepared. We are not like these southern knights, training for flouncing tourneys, our training is for when it is necessary to protect our homeland.”

“I know, my friend,” Eunbi breaches the space between them and places a hand briefly on Chaewon’s shoulder. “But while we are at peace, there may be time for a brief moment of merriment.” Her hand slips down to her sword and the feeling of the pummel in her hand immediately grounds her. When she slides it from the scabbard, listening to the ringing of metal and feeling the warm, heavy weight that runs down her arm and into her shoulder, she feels as if she has come home from a long journey. She shrugs away her cloak, passing it off to a nearby attendant, and swings her sword in a circle, loosening her wrist. “Will you fight me?”

Chaewon falls into a stance which is ever familiar to her, though Chaewon was her noble cousin, they had never shied away from sparring as children. “With pleasure, your majesty.”

They square off, circling one another. It is a tried and tested affair, they are both patient and skilled warriors, but it is Chaewon who eventually makes the first move, slashing forward so quickly that Eunbi is almost caught short. She only just manages to dart out of the way, her feet spinning beneath her, and she blocks her cousin’s next attack with a ringing of her sword which sends a shudder down her arm. Her own strike misses Chaewon, as the captain of her Queensguard easily sidesteps her attack, and Eunbi twists just in time to miss the strike that comes for her head, meeting Chaewon’s second blow with her own sword. For a moment their blades are locked and Chaewon grins down at her, saying lowly.

“You spend too long at your desk, little cousin.”

The taunt is enough to send her back to grey afternoons spent in the yard on Bear Island, pushing one another further than they ought to. Her eyes narrow and she uses the last of her strength to push Chaewon away, sending her stumbling back a few steps. The respite is enough to allow her to spiral away from Chaewon’s next attack, circling her too quickly for her cousin to keep up and landing two strikes on her arms and back. Chaewon meets her third strike, but she is visibly tiring, and it takes only a few more carefully aimed attacks to have her opponent on her back, the tip of Eunbi’s sword to her neck. Her cousin drops her sword, raising her hands, and Eunbi gives her a grin. The exhilaration of sparring is like nothing else, and she feels as if the cobwebs of endless hours sat at her desk have been blown away.

Stepping back, she offers out a hand to help Chaewon up, patting her on the shoulder and saying, good naturedly. “A noble effort, Lady Mormont.”

“I almost bested you, your majesty,” Chaewon grins, shaking her arm out and Eunbi laughs, sliding her sword back to its rightful place at her hip.

“Perhaps next time you will get the better of me.”

“I fear I’ve taught you all of my best tricks.” Chaewon sighs, looking at the sky as if in despair and Eunbi’s smile grows. She feels lighter than she has in months, though the cold is settling around her body again, reminding her that winter is only just beginning to recede. Without the rush of battle to keep her warm, she must make do with furs, and she accepts her cloak when the attendant runs forward with it.

“You would not be a good teacher if you did not.” As she turns to shrug the cloak around her shoulders, she catches sight of light hair and her eyes find Lady Sakura watching them from the barricades, blonde hair still piled in her complicated southern braids, a white fur cloak around her shoulders. Her brows crease and her spine stiffens. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“Your majesty,” Chaewon nods her head again, but Eunbi has already turned to make her way to where Lady Sakura is watching, once again without her guard.

“My lady,” She greets the southern woman with a bland smile and a dipped head.

“Your majesty,” Lady Sakura, as she has every other time they have encountered one another, drops into the smallest curtsey she can imagine, her eyes burning with resentment when she looks up at Eunbi. “You are an impressive fighter.”

“Thank you,” She accepts the compliment gracefully, and glances behind Sakura in almost a pantomime. “I see that Hyewon Snow is not with you.”

“Oh,” Sakura’s eyes widen almost comically and her voice is so falsely sweet when she too glances over her shoulder, that Eunbi almost laughs. “Is she not? How careless of me to lose her.”

The bite of insolence makes Eunbi’s blood run cold and she is suddenly sharply aware that they are surrounded by soldiers and courtiers watching them from the corners of their eyes. It makes her voice a little tighter than intended when she replies. “I suggest you try not to, Snow is there to look after you.”

“With the greatest respect, your majesty,” Sakura’s eyes sparkle viciously, and her title drips from her lips like poison. “I am in no need of a minder.”

“Hyewon Snow is there for your protection,” Eunbi argues, voice ticking upwards and she sees Sakura draw herself together, spine straightening as the corners of her lips tighten.

“Really? It feels more like I am under house arrest.”

“You are free to go where you please, as long as Hyewon is by your side.” Eunbi states, firmly, “While that may seem unfair to you Lady Sakura, while you live in my castle you are under my care, and this is how I see fit to protect you.” Without waiting for further goading, she turns on her heel and strides away, pausing only to say to a guard. “See that Lady Sakura is escorted back to her rooms.”

She cannot see the outraged expression on the noblewoman’s face, but the sharp intake of breath she hears paints a picture that will last her many hours.

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“Lady Sakura!”

She flinches at the sound of the voice behind her, now so familiar that it’s becoming grating on her ears. Around her, courtiers glance her way, draped in furs and velvets and frowning in surprise and confusion. The hallways are arched, with tall ceilings upon which wooden beams, branch and reach from one wall to the next, allowing the sound to echo up and bounce from one wall to the next. Every few steps, an arched window lets watery light spill in across the cold stone floors and Sakura quickens her pace, catching sight of the rare sunshine peering through the clouded glass.

Behind her, the sound of the clinking of weaponry and rattling buckles becomes louder and she knows, from the many times they have played this game before, that Hyewon has sped up to meet her. Moments later, a hand curls around her arm, jerking her to a stop and she spins on her heel, tugging herself out of the guard’s grip with an outraged look.

“Unhand me, Snow.”

Hyewon tilts her head just slightly and her voice is sharp when she says, “Apologies my lady, but her majesty has tasked me with accompanying you at all times, you cannot keep wandering off.” Her lips press together into a thin line and when their eyes meet, Sakura can see the fury burning beneath her expression.

Bitter, dark mirth lingers in her gut and she jerks her chin up haughtily. “Perhaps you should learn to keep up.”

“Perhaps you should tell me where you’re going,” There is a pause before Hyewon adds, resentfully. “My lady.”

“What if I don’t want to?” She retorts, with a humph, and she’s intensely aware that they’re drawing curious glances, that she sounds like a petulant child, but her life in the north is filled with very few pleasures, one of which is riling up her guard.

Hyewon seems for a moment as if she is going to snap, and Sakura watches her with relish as she gathers the fragments of her control into some tenuous patchwork. “I don’t think that matters to her majesty.”

The words send a thrill of ice down her spine, breath catching in , and a corresponding flare of fury ignites in her gut. The walls feel as if they are closing in on every side, hard stone pressing against her and she has to pull in a shaking breath. Hyewon’s expression flickers, as if catching her momentary break, but seconds later the guard is back to stern eyes and a grim set to her lips, and it is only the flash of smugness in her eyes that makes Sakura tighten her jaw.

“Then I suggest you keep pace, Snow.” She spits, turning to continue her path to the doors. The guards stood sentry of the towering oak seem for a moment as if they will stop her, but something about her expression must convince them that she is not be trifled with.

The doors swing open upon her approach and despite her days in the castle, the flurry of cold air that rushes in from the frozen courtyard still sends a shiver down her spine. Her fingers find the fur lined edge of her cloak and she tugs it closer around herself. Over her heart sits golden stitching, a rose shining brightly, and it is from here that she draws the strength to step out into the courtyard, her furious guard only a step behind her.

Flurries of snow are carried on the breeze, despite the watery sun fighting its way through the haze in the sky, and they land upon the fur of her cloak, lingering like glittering stars for a moment until they melt into nothingness. The snow is perhaps the only thing clean about the courtyard. It is closed in by dark stone walls, showing the white banner upon which a wolf is emblazoned. Soldiers and servants fill the space like rats, scurrying from place to place. A forge blazes with heat and noise, the most incredible din of pounding metal filling her ears and Sakura’s lip wrinkles as she descends the few steps from the covered walkway to the icy cobblestones. The training arena is empty for the day and the sight of it draws back memories of the queen, how her body had moved when defending herself from Lady Mormont, and then her voice when she had rebuked Sakura’s request to rid herself of Hyewon.

Her feet carry her across the courtyard at a fast pace, carefully avoiding the worst of the ice. It wouldn’t do to fall in front of most of the north and she has long since learned to watch her step in this frozen world. She can feel eyes upon her, surveying her like she’s an exotic specimen, and her chin tilts up, her lips curling in disgust. The pride of her house burns in her core, warming her in the cold of the north.

“My lady, where are you going?” She has to stop herself rolling her eyes at Hyewon’s voice, her feet not hesitating as she answers.

“The queen said that I could go wherever I please so long as you’re at my side, so that’s what I intend to do.”

“I think Her Majesty meant the library, or the sept, not the town.” Hyewon fires back and Sakura lifts her chin haughtily, turning to catch her guard’s eyes.

“Then she should have been clearer.”

Hyewon glances to the heavens, as if asking for help from her gods, but Sakura doesn’t pause to give her respite and instead marches onwards. The snow crunches underfoot, sparkling in the morning sunlight, and gives beneath her tread, as she wishes the people around her would. When she crosses beneath the portcullis, she hesitates for only a moment. She has not yet left the sanctuary of the WInterfell compound, and for a moment she is unsure, remembering the words of the queen and the resentful expressions of the northern lords and ladies upon her arrival. Hyewon pauses one step behind her, and says.

“You could still go back to the castle my lady,” There is something distinctly mocking about her voice, “Perhaps the cooks would be able to make you something from your homeland, a nice thin broth perhaps?”

Sakura’s lip curls furiously, and she wishes she could turn and slap the girl clear about the head for her impertinence, but instead she drags in a steadying breath and makes her way into the market square.

It is little to look at. Winter Town sits in the shadow of the castle, to the south and sheltered behind its great walls from the scouring northern winds that can rush from the lands beyond the Wall. It is made up of buildings mostly of wood or stone, with thick thatched roofs. They’re squat and square, to maintain their warmth, and the earth is packed mud underfoot, slippery in the few places that the snow has begun to melt. The smell of damp hay and woodsmoke is strong in the air and the town is bustling with people. Hyewon nudges her aside for two knights to make their way through the portcullis on horseback. One shouts a rude greeting to the men on watch, who laugh and gesture just as rudely in return.

Sakura wrinkles her nose, tearing her eyes away to step into the marketplace. For once, she is glad of Hyewon as a shadow at her back as she weaves her way through townspeople who look at her with curiosity and uncertainty. There is a large well in the middle of the square and the stalls are set up in a vaguely circular shape around it, allowing plenty of space for the vendors to hawk their wares.  Though her home of Highgarden has no immediate town at it