The women’s quarters were a stark contrast to the rest of the castle. Tucked away in the heart of the caste’s inner ward, the walls were decorated with bright tapestries, statues, and other objects Ione had brought to lighten the castle in the far north. A pair of ursine guards in chain mail and iron collars guarded the lone entrance. They lifted their halberds at his approach, then relaxed when they recognized him. “Master…” they began.

  I do not have time for the squabbling of slaves, he thought, and with a flick of awra, activated a compulsion on their collars. “Shut up and guard.” he ordered. He left them behind, silent and alert. With his order, they could be nothing else.

  Following the sound of the harp and lira, he soon found Elestrin, among a gaggle of women, sewing and gossiping among themselves while slaves played for. He studied his daughter while her attention was fixed on her needlework.

  She was short, though not as short as a dwarf, nor did her coloring resemble the earthy race. Her rose-gold colored hair was braided and wrapped in a bun that cleverly added a few crucial inches to her height. She had the family’s green eyes and an upturned nose, similar to her dead mother’s. An oval face, with a slightly pointed chin and small, firm lips. A light dusting of freckles were the only flaw to her face. Other than her height, she was well developed and very obviously a grown woman. She was, without a doubt a beauty. She looked more like Ione with every passing day.

  Upon noticing him, Elestrin jumped up and curtsied to her father. The other ladies followed suit.

  “I have decided to winter in the capital.” Brantly informed her. “Diemon will accompany you in around two months, after the equinox, at any rate. “Once the harvests are in and raiding season over, I will join you.

  What about my Aunt Yora, father?’ she asked. “It may have slipped your mind, but she is with child.”

  “She will be four months along, Lady Elspith.” a matron informed her. “If a woman must travel while with child, that is the best time for it.”

  “Thank you. My brother brought up that point as well. Unfortunately, there is no helping it.” He stepped closer to her and said for her ears only. “The marriage negotiations fell through again. The Solstice Balls are the best place to find a candidate, and I may have to request your grandfather’s aid to find a husband for you.”

  “I understand, father.” She was just as quiet. Despite the sudden and unexpected announcement, her voice betrayed no shock. She seemed completely undisturbed by the declaration. She was the platonic ideal of a well-bred woman. Ione had raised her well; he knew better than to try to take credit for his daughter’s excellent manners. She squared her shoulders, and nodded. “Yes, father. I will do my best.”

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  “That’s my girl.” Brantly smiled at her and awkwardly patted her head. Her mother had raised her until Iosa had died along with the boy she had been carrying. Until then, he had not spent much time with either of his daughters. Even now he felt awkward around his own flesh and blood.

  “Shall I take Marilla with us? A view of the city life would be good for her. Of course, she is too young for the balls, but even being around children her own age will be good for her.” In the far corner, Brantly’s second daughter perked up.

  “I don’t dare leave her home alone. I would like a home to return to.” he teased his overly-energetic youngest daughter. “Very well, so long as she promises to listen to you, and Uncle Diemon.”

  “I promise, Papa, I promise!” the twelve-year-old jumped up and shouted excitedly.

  Brantly’s eyes narrowed. “That does not look or sound like the behavior of a girl ready to spend the solstice in the capital.”

  Marilla sat instantly, and her face fell. In a much quieter tone, “Forgive me, Papa. I allowed my excitement to get the better of me.” From her expression, butter would not melt in her mouth. He knew better. Marilla was a pint-sized human wrecking ball, though had been a little better since turning twelve. Soon he would have to seriously entertain marriage proposals for her. He blanched at the thought.

  “See that it does not happen in the capital.” he warned. “Your behavior will affect your marriage prospects, and could even damage your sister’s.”

  “Yes, Papa. I will do better.”

  A brief smile flashed on Brantly’s face as he turned from his daughters. “Until then, my children.” He left the room, and the woman’s quarters as quickly as decorum allowed. He left, mentally reviewing what he needed to do before tonight’s work.

  Elestrin hid a smile as Father retreated. He was cold, stiff, formal and utterly ambitious, she knew. Still he had made serious efforts not to involve her, or Mother when she was alive, with his scheming. He’d never admit it, but he had loved Mother in his own way. Otherwise, he would have remarried as soon as propriety allowed in order to try for a male heir. Maybe she could do a little searching for a suitable stepmother as well in Rolnburg.

  Elestrin shook her head and smiled softly as Father retreated, then sighed softly. “Oh, how I wish Mother were here to guide us,” she murmured, thinking herself quiet enough not to be heard.

  But one of the older ladies-in-waiting overheard and nodded sympathetically. In a low voice, another said, “Another negotiation probably fell through. Poor thing, she deserves more than to be cast aside for a rumor…”

  A third whispered in reply, “If only he’d accept a manor knight for her. She needs a husband, not a powerful man to add to the baron’s collection.”

  Elestrin’s back stiffened for a moment, a flash of worry crossing her face before her serene mask returned. “Let us not speculate,” she said gently but firmly. “We must decide who must come with us to the capital, and who must stay.” Some who came with Mother twenty years ago have not left Gastap since. I must ensure that as many as I can convince Father to allow me can come. I am sure they miss their families and would like a chance to visit.

  Many nodded in agreement, and they abandoned their needlepoint to get down to the serious business of preparing for the city.