Book Three: Chapter One

“There should be more lace.”

“Any more lace and she’ll look as if she stepped out of a Dornish house.”

“She’s to be the queen , a queen can wear as much lace as she chooses!”

“As much lace as you choose, you mean.”

“Lady Sakura, what do you think?”

Sakura blinks at the sound of her name, her gazer rising from where it has been fixed to the fire flickering merrily in the grate. She stands in the middle of her solar, draped in fabrics so heavy that her arms and neck are beginning to ache under their weight. Around her, seamstresses and dressmakers fuss and argue, and the door is constantly swinging as maids and errand boys are sent running for one thing or another. Hyewon leans against the wall, watching them all with disdain and disinterest, and the eyes of the room are upon her, clearly waiting for her decision.

She feels as if she is speaking to them from far away when she bestows a kind smile and says. “Whatever you think is best.”

The seamstresses turn to one another and begin arguing again, and Sakura cannot bring herself to listen to them. Instead, she slowly begins unravelling the fabrics from her arms and about her body, and when they turn to look at her with surprise, she says.

“I think that’s enough for today.”

They shuffle and grumble, but abide by her wishes, and Nako is on hand to help her into her robe. Settling into a chair by the fire, Sakura picks at the tray of sweetmeats and cheeses brought for her hours ago, and watches, enjoying the quiet, as Nako heats her tea again over the fireplace.

“I’m sure your gown will be beautiful,” Hyewon says, lowly, from her place against the wall, and Sakura can’t bear to meet her gaze.

Nako, oblivious to the tension between them, says airily, “Yes my lady, it looks wonderful. You’ll be the most beautiful bride the city has ever seen.”

“Thank you Nako,” Sakura manages to give her a smile, her gaze growing curious as Nako passes her the tea and starts setting the room back to order.

“The wedding will be so wonderful,” Nako sighs a little dreamily as she folds and hangs the dresses strewn across the bed. “It’ll be nice to have something to celebrate again, after everything that’s happened.”

“You were friends with Prince Wells weren’t you?”

The question surprises Nako so much that she pauses halfway through picking up a dress, turning to look at Sakura, her eyes wide and a little agape. “I- When we were young, my lady.” Her eyes flicker uncertainly to Hyewon, and Sakura hurries to reassure her.

“Hyewon will say nothing, you have my word.” She pauses, considering her words. “Did you and the prince ever… share a kiss?”

The words pull a gasp from Nako, and she shakes her head so furiously that Sakura fears her eyes will fall out of her head. “No! No, never! We were always proper!”

“Do you know if the prince ever… visited someone else?” When Nako’s eyes become suspicious, she adds. “Please Nako, this is important.”

Nako is quiet for a few moments, her eyes fixed on folding linens and brushing out dresses, and Sakura is almost ready to give up when the girl finally speaks again. “I used to help him sneak away to Flea Bottom.”

“Flea Bottom?” Sakura exchanges a surprised glance with Hyewon, “Do you know who he visited?”

“No.” Sakura deflates at the word, her shoulder slumping, and Nako takes pity on her, because she sighs and gathers the linens into her arms. “I can ask around for you,” She says, reluctantly, “See if I can find out who it was.”

---

Her heart feels as if it is lodged in when the day finally comes. After weeks of waiting, weeks torn between fear and elation, between wishing and dreading, she finally finds herself stood in the Great Hall, waiting for the queen in the north to appear. The whole palace has been aflutter since word of her imminent arrival came, and she has been more inundated than ever with questions about the north and her time in Winterfell. Even Kimm had asked her, a little anxiously, how she had found the ferocious wolf queen. The thought of seeing Eunbi again, with her betrothal hanging heavily around her, is so painful that she had spent the weeks declining invitations and keeping to herself, if only to avoid talking about her. But now she stands in the Great Hall, awaiting her arrival, and there is nowhere to run to.

Every noble in the area stands in the hall, so that it is so squished it appears small. The place is polished to shining, and so is every noble in the place, bedecked in some of their finest attire to meet the northern queen who is so mysterious and strange. Sakura runs her hand over her own light blue dress, her waist and shoulders embellished by golden clasps and jewels. Her back and arms are bared to the world, and though she has worn far more revealing things in her time in the warm south, she suddenly wishes for a shawl to protect herself with. She can’t imagine what Eunbi will think when she sees her like this.

“I’ve heard she rides a wolf the size of a horse.” Lady Mira mutters from beside her, and Sakura tries not to roll her eyes.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” One of Sakura’s cousins scoffs, gaze flickering to Sakura. “That isn’t true.”

Sakura can’t find the words to agree with her, so great is the ocean of feeling rising in her gut. She can barely return the smile Kimm gives her from his place in the Iron Throne, the blades that the great chair is made from rising up behind him and dwarfing him.

There are shouts from outside, and the sound of drums and horses and a shiver runs through Sakura. She feels like an arrow, notched in a bowstring and pulled taut ready to be released, quivering on the edge of running. The doors to the Great Hall open with a fanfare, and if she were to spare him a glance, Sakura would see Kimm straighten in his seat, but she does not. She has eyes for no one but the figure stood in the doorway, the daylight a halo around her darkened form.

Eunbi is like something otherworldly as she enters the Great Hall, wearing a dress of dark velvet, pinching at her waist and forming a set of strong shoulders. The skirt brushes above her ankles and is cut up the leg, revealing a set of dark hose beneath, as if the queen is ready to jump into battle at any moment. Her broadsword sits at her hip, and silver embroidery covers her shoulders, stitched into the dancing pattern of snarling wolves. From her shoulders a long, dark cape flows, brushing the floor behind her and trimmed with white fur. Upon her head, standing tall from between her curls, is the regal crown Sakura had rarely seen her don in her time in the north. At her feet, her seven direwolves prowl, their teeth bared and their heavy paws thumping against the ground, and people gasp and recoil at the sight of them, but Sakura steps forward despite herself.

Somewhere behind her, Sakura knows Chaewon Mormont and Ser Chaeyeon stand, but how can she see them when those green eyes are staring out and claiming a victim with every gaze they meet. All she can think is Eunbi Eunbi Eunbi . As she walks, people bow and curtsey, shying away as the wolves lope at their mistress’s feet. Eunbi regards these strangers with hard eyes and tight lips, she walks with the regal gait of one who knows that their worth is far above those around them, like a goddess descending from the heavens to walk among man.

Sakura falls into a curtsey when her cousin tugs at her hand, but even then she can’t bear to pull her eyes away from Eunbi’s approaching figure, drinking her in like a wanderer parched for water. Eunbi’s eyes do not meet hers as she gets closer, and it is this which forces her gaze to the ground. Worse than having Eunbi ignore her, is knowing the resentment that would be in her eyes should they meet. The hall is silent but for the tap of the queen’s boots as she walks, and the panting of the direwolves, and Sakura fears that should she open , a scream will erupt from her.

Sakura is disturbed from her reverie by a loud, panting mouth and a wet tongue at her cheek. The ladies around her recoil away, sinking back and crying out in disgust and alarm and knights draw their swords to ready for battle, but Sakura immediately recognises Faith’s white pelt.

“Hello, my friend,” she murmurs, lifting her head and petting the great, slobbering beast to try to appease her. A shadow falls over her and her eyes flicker upwards to see Eunbi pausing beside her. Her eyes are dark and clouded, like Sakura has never seen them before and her voice chokes in . “Your majesty.”

Eunbi offers her a curt nod and clicks her tongue. Faith whines but reluctantly moves from Sakura’s side to trot along after Eunbi with the rest of her pack as Eunbi continues down the aisle towards the queen. The interaction leaves her feeling breathless and aching, as if awaking from some terrible fever.

“Your majesty,” Kimm takes the steps from his dais two at a time, so eager is he to meet the northern queen. He offers her a bowed head, and she returns the gesture. “Thank you for travelling so far. We are honoured to welcome you to Kings Landing.”

“It is good to be here, your majesty,” Eunbi gives him a polite smile, which Kimm returns threefold. Watching them interact is so strange, like two parts of her life that she thought completely separate are coming together, and Sakura watches them with wide eyes.

“It is an excellent opportunity to breed good relations between our two lands.” Kimm nods, and she is sure that the line was drummed into him by a member of his small council. He gestures to the side, and she watches as Lady Yunjin hurries forwards, clearly giddy with her joy at seeing her queen again. The little lady bows deeply to her queen, and at this Sakura sees Eunbi’s smile brighten into one of genuine happiness and relief.

“Lady Yunjin, it is good to see you well.”

“I’m glad to see you again, your majesty.” Yunjin is sincere and effusive, and when she steps back again, she places herself next to her sister, who puts a hand on her shoulder and squeezes.

Kimm raises his voice. “Tonight there will be a ball to welcome the queen and her attendants to the south!”

Though she knew already, the words cause the ball of pain that seems to live in Sakura’s stomach to throb darkly, and she can’t bear to look at Eunbi and remember the last time they had attended a ball together.

---

“Your majesty,” Chaewon watches as Eunbi slowly strips off her long cloak. The rooms they have been provided with are luxurious and stately, the solar is filled with golden tapestries and two wide windows look out onto the sprawling city of Kings Landing, with its orange roofs and sandy walls. Eunbi waits as her handmaidens take the crown from her head, and then goes to stand at these windows, resting her hands upon the sill to look out at the world below her.

“Your majesty,” Chaewon tries again, and at last Eunbi looks back at her, and tilts her chin, waiting for Chaewon to speak. At the sight of her dark gaze, Chaewon falters. “We will have guards posted on the corridors and at the door at all times of the day and night.” She informs her, succinctly and Eunbi nods, glancing back at the window.

“That seems safe.” She agrees, after a moment of silence and Chaewon bows her head in agreement. She has learnt to read Eunbi’s moods in the last few weeks, as they shift like sand beneath her feet, and this mood is dark and dangerous.

“Is there anything else you would like for us to do?”

“Assign a Queensguard to Lady Yunjin, and have her moved closer to you or I if that can be arranged,” Eunbi instructs, “Have guards on the horses in the stable, and have a taster for the meals eaten by myself, Lady Yunjin, or any of my attendants.”

“Do you think we are at risk?” Chaewon’s brows knit together, concerned, and Eunbi purses her lips, her gaze once again settling on the roofs of the city.

“I think we would be best to leave this place as soon as possible,” She answers, at last, and Chaewon nods.

Silence settles between them for a moment, before Chaewon finally works up the courage to speak again. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Eunbi’s spine stiffens, her hands forming fists on the windowsill and she looks back with anger in her eyes. “About what?”

Chaewon’s gaze travels over her, dissatisfied with what she finds. “I taught you better than this,” She snaps at last, her lips tight with fury. “Harbouring your anger like this will get you killed Eunbi. It makes you sloppy and hasty-”

“I have no anger.” Eunbi darts back, as quickly as a viper, and Chaewon snorts inelegantly.

“Don’t lie to me, cousin.”

“I am your queen .” Eunbi takes a step forward, her jaw clenched and Chaewon shakes her head.

“You are behaving like a child Eunbi. You have to let go of this anger before it puts us all in danger.”

“My anger is my own,” Eunbi mutters, resentful, “How could it put us in danger?”

A beat, and then Chaewon speaks quietly. “Wars have been fought over less beautiful women.”

A knock on the door interrupts them, and they both step away from each other, unaware of how close they had become when speaking. Eunbi turns back to the window, calling for entry, and Chaewon takes her place at the door as Lady Yunjin steps into the room. The sight of her gleeful face, still soft with youth, is enough to put them both at ease again, and Eunbi turns to greet her with a broad smile.

“Yunjin, how wonderful to see you.”

“It is,” Chaewon steps closer and wraps an arm around her sister’s shoulders, pulling her in until Yunjin squirms from her grip, laughing. “What have they been feeding you, you’ve grown like a bean sprout.”

“Must be all the sun,” Yunjin laughs as Chaewon pokes at her ribs and hips. Liberty trots to Yunjin’s side, always favouring the young Mormont, and jumps at her, putting his big paws on her shoulders and at her face as she laughs and rubs his ears, finally pushing him away.

“You’ve not been training though,” Eunbi allows herself one of her first true smiles in a long time, and peers at the girl’s arms. “Look at you, I bet you could hardly lift a sword.”

“My Septa says that girls shouldn’t use weapons,” Yunjin wrinkles her nose and by the tone of her voice it’s clear that she thinks her Septa is wrong. “She made me sew and crochet,” Yunjin’s wide, horrified eyes swivel to her sister and she demands. “Do you know how to crochet?”

Chaewon shakes her head, unable to stop her grin.

“Exactly! I told my Septa I didn’t need to learn to crochet to be Lady Mormont, and she said I would have to find a man to look after Bear Island for me!” Yunjin’s expression is twisted with annoyance. “Can you believe that?”

“Unfortunately I can,” Eunbi laughs quietly, putting her hand on her young cousin’s shoulder to draw her attention. “Have you been treated well Yunjin? Have you been safe?”

“I have,” Yunjin nods, becoming more serious under the gaze of her queen. “They’ve treated me well, even though they haven’t let me ride outside the castle walls or train as much as I’d like.”

“And have you been safe?” Chaewon asks, a little more insistently, and Yunjin nods.

“Lady Sakura told me that if I ever didn’t feel safe I could go to her.”

The mention of the name leaves Eunbi reeling, and she stares at Yunjin, open mouthed, until Chaewon presses for her.

“Lady Sakura told you that?”

Yunjin nods, “Lady Sakura is nice, she’s been a good friend to me.” Her eyes go from Eunbi to Chaewon, and she asks, a little more soberly. “Will you leave me here when you go again?”

“No,” Eunbi assures her, quickly, and puts her hand on her shoulder again, looking into her eyes as she promises. “You’re coming home with us Yunjin.”

---

Hyewon meets her brother in an alleyway close to Aegon’s Square. The sun is starting to set, painting the city with long shadows and as labourers stream from their workshops, the taverns are beginning to become rowdy. In the crowded streets, Hyewon is able to blend in easily. She wears a drab, dark coloured cloak, the hood pulled up to shade her eyes, and though her hand rests on the hilt of her longsword, it is concealed beneath the heavy material. When Han appears, he is significantly more conspicuous in his red and gold Lannister uniform, and she rolls her eyes, pushing herself away from the shadowed wall she’d been leaning on and meeting his gaze.

“Hyewon,” His smile is wide, and it falters when she doesn’t return it with one of her own. Instead, she pulls her cloak from around her shoulders and tugs it over his, hoping to cover the worst of his gawdy uniform. “What?” He looks down at the cloak in surprise, his brows creasing together.

“You’re far too obvious in that,” She grunts her irritation, tugging