Book 1: Chapter Five

The sky outside is hazy and dark, overcast with the shadows of clouds which threaten rain, or even hail if icy winds grip the north in their frozen handshake. After the long winter that preceded the war, and the blood that had watered the ground in the first few years of spring, it feels as if the winter has been loath to leave the north behind. It is lucky that they are equipped for such things. When Eunbi’s eyes move across her kingdom from the window of her chambers, she finds first the men at arms training in the courtyard, and then the storehouses where the grain and wood is kept warm and safe from the bitter bite of the cold. Soon, Measter Yunho assures her, the weather will turn and the warmth of summer will be upon them, but until that day she keeps a close eye on her coppers and stores, and welcomes the people of the north who flock to Winter Town in search of a respite from the seasons.

Behind her, her handmaiden clears quietly and Eunbi turns to give her a smile. It had taken time to find handmaidens who were not either terrified of her, or untrustworthy, and she is not in the habit of making those she has ended up with wait. Sliding her jerkin over her head, she puts it on the chair beside her to be cleaned and her shirt follows. Her hose are warm and comfortable, so she keeps them, but allows the handmaiden to bind her s again more comfortably for the ride to Castle Cerwyn.

There is a knock at the door, but before she can answer it’s swung open and her guard introduces Chaewon, who strides past him without a second look. The Captain of her Queensguard is already dressed in her flowing white cloak and shining armour, though she shrugs the cloak away when she steps into the chamber.

“Your majesty,” Chaewon gives a nod of her head, but doesn’t wait long enough to meet Eunbi’s eyes in the mirror, from where Eunbi watches her with a half amused smile. Chaewon unclips her sword and lets it fall with an ungainly clatter for a Valyrian steel blade, shooing away the startled handmaiden. “I’ll take over.”

The handmaiden meets Eunbi’s eyes, and at her nod gives a curtsey and escapes the room as Chaewon takes a shirt and s it into Eunbi’s hands.

“I’d rather you didn’t scare away the only decent handmaidens I’ve managed to find.” Eunbi tells her, wryly, and shrugs on the shirt as she speaks.

“Just because you’re the queen now, doesn’t mean you’ve forgotten how to dress yourself.” Chaewon grumbles, but passes her the woollen under-jerkin, to layer over her shirt and keep out the cold. “I assume you’ve heard the news.”

“I’m preparing to ride for Castle Cerwyn as we speak,” Eunbi pulls on her thick undercoat. The material is warm and padded, making her appear larger whilst also keeping out the cold. It falls to her knees, the grey light against her dark hose and an embroidered wolf sits over her heart.

“I’m proud that you’ve kept the tradition going as queen.” Chaewon tells her and there’s a small part of Eunbi, the part that is still a stick thin child running through the woods of Bear Island after her lanky cousin, that luxuriates in the word. “It would have been easy to give the execution of criminals over to someone else, now that you have so many other responsibilities.”

“The woman who passes the sentence should swing the sword,” She recites, and Chaewon bows her head once in acknowledgement. Eunbi continues, picking up her dark leather jerkin to pull on over her undercoat. “I would have gone sooner, but Yunho kept me in his solar all morning.”

“Yunho,” Chaewon scoffs, ushering her to sit. “What does he want?”

“To worry, as he always does,” She sighs, smiling slightly as Chaewon’s hands begin to run through her tangled hair. “He says the appointment of Lord Pike to master of coin is causing some unrest down in Kings Landing. The man has such harsh views, some think he means to influence the king.”

“All advisors mean to influence the king.” Chaewon tells her, darkly. “Is it safe in the south? For Yunjin.”

Eunbi thinks of Chaewon’s sister, sent to Kings Landing as Sakura’s parallel, a northern act of faith, and wonders on the reports she has heard of the girl. By all accounts she is happy and healthy, horse riding and eating oranges, but the reports Eunbi makes of Lady Sakura are that she is content and well, so she knows little stock can be taken in letters.

“Yunjin will be fine,” She assures her, and hopes her uncertainty does not show in her voice. “Besides, the south is perfectly stable with Prince Wells as heir.”

Chaewon is quiet for a moment, dividing her hair into small pieces to braid and Eunbi remembers the months after she had first become queen. Her cousin had sat her down one evening in her war tent, when it seemed they were on the brink of defeat, and braided her hair into something more becoming of a queen while she talked through strategy after strategy, never tiring.

“I hear Prince Wells is reluctant to take a bride,” There is a low note of humour to Chaewon’s voice now, and Eunbi knows that she jests. “Maybe he prefers the company of men.”

“Maybe, though by all accounts he is the godliest prince that ever lived.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I hear he spends most of his evenings in the sept.” Eunbi is content to sit back and allow Chaewon’s fingers to work their magic as she talks. “He will have to marry to secure the Baratheon line, however. He does not have a bastard brother to fall back on.”

Chaewon’s fingers hesitate in her hair, and she says, after a second of thought. “You are certain you will name Yujin heir then?”

“Certain,” Eunbi confirms, “A queen cannot be pregnant and I have no desire to be with child. Yujin is a good man, a strong man and he loves the north almost as much as me. I am sure he will be a good heir.”

“You will legitimise him, then?”

“When the time is right.”

“I suppose I should take the brat as my squire,” Chaewon sighs, but there is laughter in her voice and Eunbi smiles. “If I am ever able to pry him away from the affections of Lady Sakura,” She pauses and then adds, “Your doing, I suppose?”

“Not entirely, he seems rather attached to her.”

Chaewon lets out a bark of laughter. “Of course he is, have you seen the girl?”

“I have,” Eunbi rolls her eyes, “She is as fair as they say.”

“Fairer, even,” Chaewon admits, resentfully, pulling her braids together into a low knot at the back of her head, and then continues, a touch more tentatively. “I wondered whether your eyes had lingered-”

“Chaewon,” Standing, Eunbi turns to face her as she buckles her belt around her waist, clicking it together with the silver direwolf clasp. She fixes her Queensguard with a firm expression. “Lady Sakura is simply a guest here, who I would much rather stay away from at all costs, if only not to hear her whining.”

Chaewon’s eyes flicker over her for a moment, unreadable, and then she laughs again, “Better for it, I suppose. The guards say she and Hyewon Blake have been walking into Winter Town together many a night, sometimes coming back with a third. Yujin may have competition for the girl’s affections.”

“Blake and Lady Sakura,” Eunbi turns to take her dagger from the table, staring down at it as she turns it within her hands. “How interesting.” The dagger slides home into its scabbard with a harsh rash of metal.

---

Sakura has to fight against the wind when she turns to peer over her shoulder, laughing breathlessly. Her hair is whipped around her face, the strands tangled, but she pays it no heed as her eyes find the figure she has been searching for. Hyewon approaches upon horseback, her expression drawn with discontent and her brows pulled together, and Sakura lets out a laugh that draws the attention of those passing her on the Kingsroad.

“Come along Blake!” She shouts, though her words are lost to the wind, and Hyewon glowers are her as she trots up to her side, slightly breathless. Sakura gives her a smug smile, “I would’ve thought you’d have learnt to keep up with me by now.”

“You’re unnaturally fast,” Hyewon tells her, her eyes flickering down to where Sakura’s dress is draped artfully about her legs. “Especially for someone riding side saddle.”

“Maybe my mount is just superior to yours,” Sakura reaches down to rub at her mare’s neck, smiling as the horse whickers.

“I expect it is,” Hyewon admits easily. “I wish the queen had never given you that horse, you’re harder to keep up with than ever.”

“Isn’t it glorious?” Sakura smiles at her, widely, and gazes up at the open sky. The north is a wild place, but the land is so open that Sakura feels as if she could ride for hours and never be forced to stop. Even the thought of it allows a burst of joyful laughter to escape from between her lips.

“We should turn back for the castle, my lady,” Hyewon gives her a strange look at the sound of her laughter, but she can only nod jovially. Together, they walk their mounts back onto the dusty Kingsroad, which reaches from the southern capital of King’s Landing all the way to The Wall, the towering wall of ice and snow that separates the wilds of the northern most part of the land from the Seven Kingdoms. As they begin their journey back to Winterfell, Sakura can’t help but glance back. It is strange to think that this road could take her all the way to King’s Landing, where her father sits. A pang of loneliness swells within her , but she is startled from the feeling by Hyewon’s words.

“I didn’t know you loved to ride so much, my lady.”

“Riding here is very different to home.” Sakura pulls her attention back to the road ahead of them. “It’s nice to feel free.”

“You’re free at Winterfell, my lady.” Hyewon’s lips have pulled into the stubborn line that Sakura knows she will not be able to reason with and she sighs.

“I won’t try to explain the complications of royal politics to you.” She says, but it comes out wearier and less scathing than she had hoped.

Hyewon pursues her line of questioning, however, “You’re not a prisoner in Winterfell, you could return home if you wanted to. You’re not bound by chains or kept in a locked room.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m free to leave,” Sakura snaps and beneath her, her mare sidesteps nervously, feeling her tension.

Hyewon’s brows furrow, and she opens to argue again, before shutting it.

“What?” Sakura demands, but Hyewon shakes her head, her expression tight with concentration.

“Someone is approaching,” She says, and as she speaks the shallow rise before them is crested by two standard bearers, holding the white flags of House Stark. Behind them follows a procession of riders and Sakura spots the queen herself, with Lady Chaewon on one side and Prince Yujin on the other, their horses approaching at a steady trot. There is no fanfare or ornament to this journey, though the people move hastily from their path and gaze at their passing queen in awe. With them ride several other soldiers, one of whom Sakura recognises as Sooyoung Woodson, the Master of Arms at the castle, whose expression is as grim set as it has been every other time she has seen her.

“Where are they going?” Sakura asks, but Hyewon simply urges her out onto the grassy verge that surrounds the Kingsroad, to avoid being trampled by the oncoming procession. “Hyewon?” Sakura demands, but when her guard remains mum she huffs and calls out for the Prince as the procession passes. “Prince Yujin!”

Yujin hears her calls and, with a glance at the queen, spurs his horse out into the verge. He is far graver than she has ever seen him before, and gives her a bow of his head upon approach. His tunic is dark, and a sword sits at his hip where Sakura has rarely seen one before.

“Lady Sakura,” He greets her, formally and she swallows at the sound.

“Prince Yujin, is everything well?” Her eyes follow the procession as they continue on their way and the prince nods.

“Well enough, we are on our way to Castle Cewryn.”

“To what purpose, your highness?”

He hesitates for a moment, his eyes seeming to flick to Hyewon, before returning to her and explaining, grudgingly. “The lord of the castle has caught a man who was pillaging through the villages near Winter Town. Eunbi is going to dole out the queen’s justice.”

“She is travelling all the way to Castle Cewryn to sentence a man to death?” Sakura’s brows furrow, “Surely she is not needed for that.”

Yujin’s expression shifts imperceptibly, and when he speaks again he is a little clearer, “You misunderstand me, my lady, the queen will be the one to execute the prisoner.”

“The queen?” Sakura splutters, all memory of court manners flying from her head as she stares at the young prince in shock. “Surely you don’t mean…”

“It is a northern tradition, my lady.” Hyewon tells her, bluntly, “He who passes the sentence should swing the sword.”

“But that is barbaric!” Her words are oscillating quickly, spiralling higher in her outrage, and Yujin looks back to where the procession is moving further away.

“I’m afraid I should catch them up, my lady.”

“Wait,” Sakura’s eyes dart to where the queen rides and her outrage hardens into something dense in the pit of her stomach. “I’m coming with you.”

“What?” Hyewon demands, as the prince cringes.

“Really my lady, that is not normally the done thing-”

“I am a guest in the north, I should like to see your customs.” Her nose wrinkles, “Even when they do disgust me.”

“You won’t like to see it.” Hyewon argues and she glares at the guard.

“I have to see it to believe it.” She retorts, fiercely and Yujin gazes at her, his eyes solemn, before finally nodding.

“You may come, Lady Sakura. But if at any point you are too disturbed, no one will be available to you home.”

“I will be fine,” She assures him, with a hot determination.

---

The prisoner watches her from a lean face, eyes hollowed in his skull. His hair is long and straggly, falling around his face in a tangled mess and his beard is patchy and silver, betraying his age. The rags he wears hang about him, like he is a scarecrow, and he is clearly weak enough that he doesn’t need to be held so tightly by the two soldiers on either side of him. Eunbi regards him with something between pity and disgust. It is easy to pity the man who looks at her now, the man who clearly has nothing, but she can’t allow herself to forge