Vulcan finally placed both arms
above his head, and she pushed
herself off of him and righted her
clothing. In the next instant, she had
her back to him.
“You will bring to Morden two
Lytherian ladies, personal maids, and
your dowry. The dressmakers of
Morden are already creating clothing
befitting your status as my queen, so
pack only the warmest clothing for the
journey. Your sisters will remain at
Lytheria as my wards. They will be
under Varian’s care. Do you have any
questions?”
“Why are my sisters to remain in
Lytheria?”
she
demanded
immediately. Vulcan heard her hurt,
and answered honestly.
“Your
sisters
are
Lytherian
princesses. This is still their home.”
Her reply was vicious. “This is still
my home.”
Vulcan released a deep breath and
glared at the back of her head. “When
you were a Lytherian princess, this
was your home. Now that you are my
queen, your home is beside me, in
Morden.”
***
Jaisyn blinked rapidly to keep the
tears from falling from her eyes. Just
when she’d begun to think her
husband wasn’t a complete savage, he
uprooted her from the only home
she’d ever known without so much as
a nick of sympathy for her case.
“You’ve made everything perfectly
clear. I have no say in when I am to
leave the only home I’ve known, for a
country foreign to me. I am but chattel
to you. Good night,
liege
.”
***
Vulcan glared at the back of her
head at that but decided against taking
the bait. Jaisyn certainly had a way
with words. There was no use in
prolonging the return to Morden. It
was now her home. To further their
stay in Lytheria would give Jaisyn a
false sense of hope that she would
never have to leave.
He shrugged his shoulders and
closed his eyes. In a sennight, they
were leaving for Morden. In a
sennight, Jaisyn would be beside him
as they rode to Morden.
***
The next morning found Jaisyn
appointing the servants to various
tasks concerning her departure from
the castle. Two lady’s maids had been
given the task of finding her furs,
shawls—all clothing that would do
well in cold climates. Another two,
under the supervision of the steward,
were assigned the task of collecting
her dowry, made up of Lytherian gold
coins, diamonds, rubies, emeralds,
and various other pieces of jewelry.
Expensive cloths were also added to
her
dowry:
satins,
silks,
and
cashmeres among them. She’d also
requested that two of her swords be
hidden among her dresses in her
travelling chests. Jaisyn had already
decided on Magda as one of the
servants who would accompany her to
Morden. The other would be Asha, a
young lady’s maid who’d begun to
work for her recently.
She’d yet to select the two
Lytherian
ladies
who
would
accompany her. As she had only
recently become Queen, she’d not
had the time to select her ladies of the
court.
However,
her
mind
immediately went to Lady Jane
Stevens, a widow in the city, and
Lady Anne Wincher of Nuren. She’d
met them both at her father’s court.
Lady Jane was older than Jaisyn by a
few years but had lost her husband,
who was much older than she, to a
bad case of fever. Lady Anne was a
year younger than Jaisyn and a more
cheerful person Jaisyn had never met.
Anne didn’t have a mean bone in her
body and wished everyone well, even
as she gossiped mercilessly about
them. Anne was the daughter of an
earl, a countess in her own right, but
Jaisyn did not doubt her friend would
follow her to Morden. So, between
the two of them, and her maids, she
would not feel completely bereft of
Lytheria.
She immediately wrote a missive to
both ladies, requesting their presence
at her new court in Morden, and
entrusted them to the envoys. After
that was done, she searched out her
sisters, intent on breaking the news to
them, and hoping that they wouldn’t
be too upset over it.
***
Jaisyn sat on the plush seat of one of
the Lytherian carriages with her ladies
and maids around her. Although they
would all eventually have to ride,
Vulcan had decided that with a ten-
day journey, the carriage would be
more convenient for the ladies, who
were unaccustomed to such strenuous
travel. Jaisyn said nothing. In addition
to being slightly depressed at the fact
that she would have to leave her
homeland, she was saddened that her
sisters
were
not
allowed
to
accompany her. She had barely
spoken to her husband since his
announcement of their departure.
Except for the occasional question on
her part, their encounters usually
occurred in silence, with groans,
moans and cries the only real
communication between them.
She’d told her sisters days ago that
she would be leaving and the crying
had yet to stop. Mathilda wished to
know why she couldn’t go with
Jaisyn. Isolde, who seemed more
wary than ever, wanted to know why
Jaisyn couldn’t stay. Her only
answers to both were that it was
Vulcan’s wish they go to Morden.
After had come the questions about
visitation. Would Jaisyn be able to visit
soon? Would they be able to visit her
soon? Questions for which she had no
answers. And when the time had
come to say their goodbyes, Mathilda
had cried so hard that Jaisyn had been
afraid she would make herself sick.
Isolde, as usual, had been the stronger
of the two, hugging her sister and
trying to reassure Jaisyn that she
would care for Mathilda in her stead.
Jaisyn believed her. It had lasted only
some minutes before Vulcan walked
over to her and told her it was time to
set out. With compressed lips and
hard eyes, she’d followed him from
the castle. When he attempted to help
her into the carriage, she had swatted
his hand away and tossed him a
furious glare. His jaw had clenched
before he moved away from her. Her
ladies and maids were already seated
in the large carriage and smiled
warmly at her as she entered.
As their entourage had passed
through the city, her people sent up
cheers. “Long live the King and
Queen” rang out amidst general
merriment. Jaisyn resisted the urge to
cry as they came upon the Old Lands
before heading due north. Would she
ever be allowed to see Lytheria again?
Her sisters? Her people? She did not
know. She had not ventured to ask
Vulcan anything since he had imposed
his will on her.
As a slight chill on the morning air
caught her, Jaisyn shivered and pulled
the velvet shawl she wore closer to
her body. She looked around the
carriage. Lady Jane and Lady Anne,
who sat opposite her, were both
asleep. She looked to her sides.
Madga was sleeping as well, but Asha
was awake. She passed her queen a
smile and Jaisyn attempted one before
she settled against the cushions in the
carriage and closed her eyes. Perhaps
if she slept, she would forget she was
leaving everything she knew behind.
***
Days after the beginning of their
journey, after the resting or changing
of horses and the changing of clothing
in various Northern countries all
presided over by her husband, their
large
entourage,
consisting
of
hundreds of soldiers, finally entered
Morden at midday. Although the
ladies had been allowed to ride for the
first six days of their journey, the days
following had been so cold they’d
chosen to remain in the carriage,
rather than become sick from the
frigid temperatures. When they’d
stopped over in Anden, a smaller
northern land whose king had pledged
allegiance to Vulcan, the king had
showered Jaisyn with gifts—furs and
cloaks and thick boots for which she,
and all of her ladies, were very
grateful. Because of the cold and the
grueling journey, they had to stop
more frequently, and it was for that
reason their journey had been
extended to thirteen days.
Jaisyn did not have particular
expectations of Morden. In fact, she
half-expected to see savage people
dressed in thick wools, with their hair
undone, snarling at everyone who
passed them. She was in for a
complete shock. Instead of the savage,
warmongering city she’d imagined,
they passed through a city that was
larger than any of the Lytherian cities
she’d visited. Stone buildings towered
over the paved walkways, and small
luxury carriages seemed to be parked
before every townhouse. People of
various classes mingled together in the
city: the rich wore delicate designs
and expensive cloth while the poor, or
rather poorer, most of whom were still
well-dressed,
wore
less
colorful
fabrics. The women were pale and
their hair colors ranged from the
blackest black to a soft flaxen shine.
The men were pale, too, with various
shades of hair colors, and tall, some
bulky, some thin.
As the procession passed, people
bowed, curtsied, and smiles touched
many a face. Jaisyn looked out on
them. These were Vulcan’s people—
her people.
“Is the castle in the city, Your
Majesty?” Lady Jane was the one
who asked the question. Jaisyn turned
to face her and blinked. She did not
know. She hadn’t asked her husband
anything about Morden.
“I do not know, Jane,” she replied
smoothly, and went back to staring
from the window.
The castle was not located in the
city. It was half-an-hour’s journey
from the city, built on a crest that
allowed it to overlook many of the
Morden cities surrounding it. Her first
glimpse left Jaisyn’s jaw slack. St. Ives
Castle was not large when compared
to many castles, but it was luxurious
with its white stone and fine stables.
Morden Castle was exceedingly large.
It seemed to span a great distance,
and appeared three times as big as St.
Ives Castle. It certainly was imposing.
Instead of white stone, the castle was
built with grey brick that had turned a
darker color over time, making it seem
almost black. As the carriage drew
closer, Jaisyn noticed the many
arrow-slits, the grand moat, deep and
dark
enough
to
house
many
unrecovered
bodies,
the
large
battlements and keep, the numerous
armed
and
watchful
warriors
patrolling the grounds surrounding the
castle. This was a warrior’s castle and
it was now her home.
***
Although they arrived slightly after
noon, Jaisyn was not allowed the
chance to rest until evening. She had
been introduced to a few high-ranking
nobles who’d been waiting for them to
arrive to pay homage, and to the
servants, who’d been lined up in order
of rank in the inner bailey. Afterward,
her husband had walked off with the
nobles and she, accompanied by her
ladies and maids, had been shown to
her rooms. These consisted of three
separate chambers. One held a large