The Golds and the Silvers

Kingdom of Aruhel, Earl Lohan mansion's, 285 AU.

The reception room was a sea of jewels and bright fabrics. Lords, knights, and ladies filled it to the brim and stood beneath the high windows, their chatters a never-ending chorus. Earl Lohan's mansion wouldn't be this popular if it weren't for his younger brother, Ser Justin Lohan, Prime Minister of King Rolan. Having an earl’s brother as minister was unheard of, but Ser Justin had repeatedly shown that he was the smartest man in Aruhel. Firmly neutral, he showed no indication of preferring one prince to the other and treated the four of them with the same reverence and polite detachment. His house had received royal permission to remain neutral during the race for the throne. As such, his brother's mansion had become to only neutral place in the capital, although the Gold and Silver Factions still wore their colours. In the middle of a gold and silver sea, House Lohan's members looked out of place with their obsidian banner. Nonetheless, everyone knew better than to bother them; Ser Justin was the king's closest counsellor and friend, and His Grace would suffer no insult against them.

Maela was quite put out she couldn’t wear gold anymore, but it was now Queen Neve's faction's main colour, along with red. As for the marchioness' faction, their colours were blue and silver. Silver, white gold, and diamonds looked splendid on her skin and in her hair, but Maela was still a bit nonplussed over the whole situation. The auburn of the Yale banner was too close to gold and as such, she couldn’t wear it anymore. Green and silver looked splendid together, but she missed auburn. If she hadn't grown so fond of Marchioness Elenda over the last year, she wouldn't bother with the whole thing and would wear either her House's colours or neutral ones. Worse; the reception was a bore. The singer was quite unremarkable, and the songs were utterly uninteresting. Could the Prime Minister not hire better singers? She didn’t even want to dance, which was a feat in itself. Usually, she was the first to get up at the first opportunity to enjoy music, but today, the music was quite boring.

Her only distraction from this dreadful event was observing the marchioness interacting with the other guests. She was charming everyone at the reception, and everyone was flocking around her as if she was the most divine artwork of the century. Looking at her like that, it was impossible to guess she had left the political scene for more than a decade or that she had given birth twice. She was just as slim as any dream worthy maiden was, whereas Queen Neve's hips had never fully lost the weight gained during her pregnancy. Maela knew that it was quite low to attack someone on their physical appearance – hadn't she been assaulted herself because of her skin colour? –, but when it came to the throne, the marchioness had insisted it was different.

'Our battlefield is this, Maela. Insults presented as compliments and favours; advice full of disdain. We may not knock our opponent of their horses, but we're no less dangerous. A broken arm will get better, but a wounded ego never truly heals. Don't feel bad for the people you will insult. They would never feel bad for taking you down. Wear your differences like an armour or a badge of honour, or they will use them against you. Are you heiress to Pearlforest or not?' she had told Maela a few months ago. Nonetheless, Maela had no intention of insulting someone's appearance. She would much rather gush about Prince Helio. It didn't involve putting anyone down and she liked the prince. He was everything she had always envisioned princes to be, and their new friendship was precious to her. Sadly, he was currently entertaining a potential betrothed and couldn't make time for Maela.

''You seem bored out of your mind'' Hamya said as she appeared out of nowhere.

''I am. The music is dreadful. Is the Prime Minister so bad at finding good musicians?'' Maela grumbled, thinking of how she could be enjoying herself somewhere else.

''I don't know. But both Her Grace and Marchioness Elenda are here; drama is bound to happen at some point, it will at least be entertaining!''

Maela sighed; her cousin was the only one finding the whole situation fun. Petty fights could be entertaining but a national succession crisis was more frightening than amusing.

''I don't think so; the king is here as well, and the mansion is a neutral ground.''

''Only in appearance'', Hamya replied with a wave of her hand. ''Look at our dresses; I've never worn so much silver or aquamarine in my entire life!''

''Well, yes, but it's not exactly drama. And even then, it wouldn't be fun. This situation scares me and annoys me at the same time, you know?''

''I do. I'm scared to. What if a war begins? What if people start losing their lives over the throne?'' Hamya confessed.

''People will'', a new voice said.

Maela whirled around and found Elyn Lorn, Prince Amon's fiancée. She was a beautiful lady, with golden curls and emerald eyes shining on a delicate face. She wore a beautiful gold and red gown that eclipsed all other dresses. The bodice had intricate designs made with glittering gems emphasizing her slim frame, and the long skirt was decorated with plant-like patterns. The sleeves flew out right above her elbow, gracefully following her movements. She was splendid.

''Lady Elyn, it's a pleasure to finally meet you in person'', Maela said with a smile, ignoring the woman's words.

''It is your pleasure'', Lady Elyn replied smugly.

Maela had to stop herself from gaping at the lady's rudeness. How dare a Marquess' daughter talk to her like that? She had yet to marry the prince, and she wasn't even sure to be the future queen consort! Maela clasped her hands on her belly to stop them from shaking in anger. She could feel Hamya tense right next to her. She needed to be calm and defuse the tension, just like Marchioness Elenda had taught her. And, if she could slip in a small insult or two to satisfy her petty side, it would be even better.

''Of course. I've heard so much about your House. The Lorns were amongst the first family to swear fealty to the Harney Duchy, is that right? Back when they were the Snow Kings. Northern legends have always been amongst my favourites.''

Lady Elyn seemed surprised at Maela's response, and a small smile appeared on her face.

''Indeed, we're an old House. Not blessed by the gods like House Yale has been, but we still have our pride.''

''So, I've heard. Each house must cultivate their own talent, right?''

This time, Lady Elyn heard the insult and her smile turned icy. After all, Maela had just implied that House Lorn's only talent was their pride. It wasn't true, of course, but it didn't matter.

''Indeed. We worked hard to get where we are'', she replied.

'Is she calling me lazy?' Maela thought, almost arching a brow. This was a poor insult; the Yales weren't lazy. They were blessed. The God of Wind himself, one of the Nine Paramount Gods, had bestowed a blessing upon her family. It was only natural that they didn't have to work as hard as other houses. They were loved by a deity.

''Yes, what a shame the Nine haven't seen fit to bless your lineage'', Maela said, faking concern.

Lady Elyn's eyes filled with blinding anger, and Maela noticed the lady was holding her fan much tighter, her knuckles turning white. The young lady felt a bit guilty about insulting Lady Elyn like so; she might have been rude at first, but Maela didn't think she was a bad person. She was defending her betrothed's birthright. Maela didn't really understand why Lady Elyn had decided to come to pick a fight with her, but it was possible she was simply trying to get the measure of her potential enemies. It wouldn't be too far-fetched.

''I suppose they knew our House could rise without their help'', she articulated.

''It will be a beautiful day when it does'', Hamya intervened with a smirk. ''Maela, should we go? I'm dying for a –''

Before Hamya could finish her sentence, Lady Elyn had raised her hand to strike her across the face with a furious scream. In an instant, Maela grabbed the woman's wrist to stop her while Hamya moved out of the way. With their supernatural speed, it was easy, and Lady Elyn didn't even see them move. No one could, in truth. She didn't have much strength, but Maela made sure to grip the blonde lady's wrist as hard as he could and glared at her. How dare she raise her hand against Hamya? How dare she try to hurt Maela's family? The young lady's blood was boiling with fury, and she wanted nothing more but to lash out at the lady and her entire family. However, she would give her a final chance. Only one.

''Out of respect for your dignity, I shan't make a spectacle of this. But if you ever try to hurt my cousin again or threaten us ever again, I will bury your house under so much debt that ten generations won't be enough to pay it back.''

Lady Elyn glared at her but didn't say anything. The blonde woman harshly freed her wrist from Maela's grip and stormed away. Young ladies wearing some gold in their outfits rushed to her side and escorted her away. Maela stared at them until they disappeared from the main hall before turning away.

''Are you alright?'' she asked Hamya.

''Of course, I was just surprised. How are you? Did you hurt your hand catching her?''

''No, worry not. Let us get something to drink and go on the balcony. If the music can't soothe me, let's hope the gardens will.''

Hamya nodded and they made their way to the tables. Dozens of sweets and different drinks sat there, waiting for the guests to savour them. Usually, Maela would jump on the sweets – especially with Hamya – but the day had been thoroughly ruined and she had no appetite. She only took one slice of apple pie and some juice before heading towards the nearest empty balcony. Her cousin came to stand by her side, a cup of wine in her hands. Usually, Maela would discourage her cousin from drinking alcohol when they didn't have an escort with them, but the day called for a cup of wine. She would probably steal a sip from a cousin.

''Do you think she meant it?'' Hamya asked after long minutes spent looking at the sky.

''Mean what?''

''That people will die.''

Maela remained silent as she thought about it. She had a hard time imagining the queen or the marchioness giving up on the throne without a fight. Both women had dedicated their lives to putting their sons on the throne, and neither would back down. She didn't know much about Queen Neve, but Maela knew Marchioness Elenda. She was stubborn and never gave up, no matter the obstacles in her way. She wouldn't allow Amon or Aaron to sit on the throne she wanted for Helio, no matter what she had to do for it. After all, she had told Maela herself that there was nothing beneath her. 'I charmed my way into the king's bed and exposed myself to Neve's wrath the second I turned eighteen. Do you really think there is something I wouldn't do for that throne?'.

''I think she did. I don't about Her Majesty, but Lady Elenda doesn't seem above murder or war'', she confessed sadly.

''I hope we'll be back at Pearlforest when it happens.''

''So do I…''

Although it had taken some time, Maela had grown used to their mansion in the capital. It wasn't nearly as beautiful as Pearlforest and it would never be home, but it was good enough. It had big gardens with an old oak tree that reminded Maela of the one in Pearlforest, although it was much younger. The mansion itself was quite recent after all, shy of three centuries old. In comparison, Pearlforest had celebrated its one thousandth birthday a couple of decades ago. There had been many renovations over the centuries, of course, but the castle hadn't changed much.

Considering the dreadful party she had just been able to leave, Maela headed straight for the gardens and the oak tree; she wanted to rest and enjoy the wind. Sadly, the butler came to tell Father had need of her in his office. Maela couldn't help but be surprised. Why would Father need her this quickly? Had something happened with His Majesty? Or at Pearlforest? She quickly climbed the stairs, hoping whatever had occurred wasn't too bad. She announced herself before entering, not bothering to knock. She was expected.

''Ah, sweetling, here you are. Are you alright? I could tell you didn't enjoy the party.''

''It was boring'', Maela replied. ''Have you listened to the music? It was dreadful. I couldn't wait to come home.''

Father laughed good-naturedly.

''Yes, it was quite bad compared to what you're used to. But I didn't call you just for this. Sit down, and have something fresh to drink. The day is quite hot.''

Maela complied and carefully smoothed her aquamarine dress as she sat down. It was one of her favourites.

''We have received words from Voek.''

Now that was a surprise. Voek was the neighbouring country; their only usable border was with the South and the population was heavily dependent on the trade routes going through the South. Their relationship with Aruhel had soured since the unification, and both kingdoms didn't exchange more than what was necessary. Their relationship with the South was good thanks to the exchange of goods, but there was no real friendship, only mutual respect. Voek got along better with the border castle, Peacekeeper, and the secondary branch of House Yale who lived there. Maela's aunt Varena, and her son Branwen were the ones exchanging the most with the Voek royal family and Dukes.

''I was as surprised as you'', Father said as he saw her expression. ''But it would seem they're trying to fix their relationship with Aruhel, or at least the South. Maybe they've had a bad couple of years, who can tell? They don't communicate more than necessary. Be as it may, the country going to celebrate their five hundredth anniversary and we've invited to the capital as honoured guests.''

''We are? As in House Yale? Not House Virinen?''

''It would seem. I don't think they would turn a guest from Aruhel's royal family down, though. I have been discussing it with His Majesty and Ser Justin at the party, and both agreed that it is better to go slow in restoring our relationship with Voek.''

''Who will go, then?''

''I was hoping you would. I cannot leave the capital and leave the marchioness alone when Duke Sahad is still neutral and Duke Lars on the verge of siding with the Golds. Moreover, it will be a good experience for you. Hanika will accompany you, and so will Prince Vale. I suppose the king won't risk the queen's anger by sending one of the twins.''

''Me?! But I'm only thirteen! I wouldn't know what to do! Wouldn't aunt Varena be a better choice?''

''Varena is half-blind, and she already declined the invitation. Your cousin Branwen might decide to accompany you, but nothing is certain yet. You needn't worry, you're only a guest. Prince Vale will most likely the centre of attention anyway, with his male paramour and his reputation'', Father reassured.

''Nonetheless, what if I dishonour our House?''

''You won't. Voek can't afford to ruin their relationship with us less they want to have a famine on their hands. I trust you to represent our House.''

''Are you certain?''

''I am. If you don't trust yourself, then trust my judgment.''

Maela eventually nodded and excused herself. She needed time to think, to realise what was about to happen. Her feet guided her to the small altar for the God of Wind in the gardens, hidden by trees and plants. The statue of the God was beautiful, representing him as a young man with long untied hair dancing and playing the flute. Some representations of the God of Wind portrayed him with a bow and arrow instead of dancing, but Maela much preferred to see him dance. To her, wind was nothing dangerous. It was gentle and part of who she was. She knelt in front of it and brought her hands together, eyes locked on the white stone.

''Ô, God of Wind, Divine Patron of Travellers, Paramount God of Air, please guide me. I'm lost, I am afraid I will disappoint my people. I long for my home and peaceful days, for my family and love.''

The wind picked up at her words, and a soft breeze danced in her hair and skirts. Maela smiled and thanked the God. He would always look after the members of House Yale. She needn't worry.