Chapter 1

The only noises that broke the silence were the crackling of the fire in the fireplace, which faintly illuminated the otherwise dark room, the faint rustle of a feather moving across the paper, and the clink produced by the thin silver chains studded with crystals when Yda took them from the box.

The crystalline noise continued even when the servant finally took them in her hands, now clenched into fists, so hard she was shaking. Yda swallowed several times in an attempt to calm herself, but she almost had the impression that even that small gesture produced a loud noise and almost brought a hand to her throat before she remembered it was occupied. She took a few steps from where the noise of the paper came from and almost felt she missed it when with one foot she bumped into something she could not quite see in the dimness of the room.

The noise was barely audible, but Selenna, from across the room, turned to give her a dirty look. Yda felt her eyes burn with shame, knowing that she had avoided a lecture with flying colors, but only for now. When they were alone Selenna would skin her.

The old maidservant shook her head, her now gray hair pulled back into an impeccably high bun, in disapproval and with a slight wave of her hand invited her to hurry up. Yda nodded and lowered her gaze, both in shame and to scan the floor for any obstacles to avoid.

Distractedly but with sudden pleasure she noticed that the large, soft cream-colored carpet with silver weaves that covered the floor had a few stains soiling what should have been spotless. Even Selenna was not as perfect as she liked to make herself out to be, or, more likely, age was beginning to show. Even by her.

Yda smiled faintly and with a more confident stride tried to hurry across the huge room, in some places not even the fire could illuminate the smooth white stone walls, and the girl cast an intimidated glance at the shadowy areas, feeling a shiver of cold even though the room was well heated.

Selenna looked at her stymied, narrowing her small brown eyes and tightening her thin lips in disappointment; her face, already marked by age, was filled with new wrinkles.

Yda blushed, and the same wave of terror that had seized her when she had opened the small light wood box inlaid with gold, swept over her again. She had to hurry if she didn't want to....

He had to hurry.

A new noise filled the silence of the room: that of the thin silver comb going through long hair.

Yda lengthened her stride, almost tripped over her own feet but quickly regained her balance; she clutched the chain with the crystals tightly between her fingers until her hand hurt, as if to give herself strength.

He came within a few steps of the large mahogany table that stood at the far end of the room and paused for a handful of seconds to catch his breath. Then he knelt at the foot of the large chair, made of mahogany like the table and richly carved with carvings, and offered his cupped hands where the crystals clinked for the last time.

The rustling of the paper stopped, and a white tapering hand reached out to the servant's, taking her chains in a graceful gesture, without touching even a bit of her skin.

On seeing that elegant, manicured hand next to hers, Yda blushed comparing it to her own, flushed from scrubbing cloths and floors, marred by hard daily work.

She had felt uncomfortable since she had set foot in the room, but it was the first time she had really felt inferior. She lowered her head in what she hoped looked like reverence and not the anguish she felt, the hair that had escaped her tight bun, like Selenna's, fell back over her eyes, and when she saw those strands, the proof of her inadequacy, she hated herself.

She kept her head down and so only from the sound could she tell that the chains had passed into the hands of Selenna, who braided them, with the quickness and confidence given by experience, to the coat of fine, shiny black hair; shaping it into a complex high braid.

Yda dared to look up for a moment and saw that black waterfall shining through silver and crystals, she was breathless and then puzzled when she saw Selenna's hand stop. It was only a moment, but the thing was so strange, it was the first time she had witnessed but she knew Selenna did not hesitate, that she looked into her face for answers. Getting her attention, Selenna whispered "the dress," but it was really a brush of lips.

Yda nodded slightly and got up with all the grace she possessed, which was not much when she thought about it, and headed for the massive bed that stood against the north wall of the room. Yda judged that at least six people could sleep there, comfortably, and felt a twinge of jealousy comparing it to her own bed. The bed was covered with a very soft blanket of pure ivory wool woven with silver threads, and even without daring to touch it, she knew it was the most comfortable bed in the realm. Of the entire continent, perhaps.

On the bed had been carefully laid out one of the most beautiful dresses Yda had ever seen, of silk so light it seemed impalpable, snow-white, dirtied on the square neckline and wide sleeves with silver inlays: wide squiggles that seemed to form crescents of the moon.

Yda took it with trembling hands, being terrified of tearing it or, heaven forbid!, staining it, and went to the large silver-framed mirror.

She stood there, still, her fingers damp with sweat clutching that delicate fabric and stared at the floor, waiting.

Moments later feet in delicate slippers stopped in front of her, and Yda hurriedly handed the dress to Selenna, who took it with extraordinary delicacy and began to help her dress.

When they had Yda he allowed himself to look directly at her for the first time since he had entered, perhaps since he could remember, because he had never seen her so closely.

Everything about her shone with great beauty, from her perfectly coiffed hair, to her large brown eyes so dark they looked black, to her thin lips poised in a satisfied smile that lit up her face.

She brought her hands to her hips, her hands barely able to get out of the wide sleeves, and did a half-turn, looking at herself in the mirror.

"Perfect work as usual, Selenna," said the Queen with a nod of approval.

Yda's eyes widened in surprise as she saw the elderly servant giggling smugly before taking a deep bow.

"You are new," said the Queen, turning to Yda. It was not a question.

"Yes, Your Highness," whispered Yda in a choked voice as she bowed, embarrassed.

"Your name, maiden," sounded like an order rather than a question.

"Yda, Your Highness."

The Queen nodded slowly, as if carefully weighing her name. Then he smiled at her, a real smile that lit up her eyes. He said nothing more to her, but that was enough for Yda.

That smile would be enough for the rest of her life.

A knock was heard on the door, three sharp knocks preceding a male, authoritative voice.

"The Queen's First Lady, Lady Shenya Freyrdt," announced what must have been a guard on duty at the door.

The Queen slowly approached the nearest window and drew aside the heavy curtain, taking a long look outside. For a moment she seemed to be lost in thought, and Yda feared that Lady Shenya would be offended, considering how long the Queen was keeping her waiting.

"Go ahead," said the Queen finally, bringing herself to the center of the room and facing the door with her arms crossed behind her back.

The door opened immediately and with large, determined steps the Queen's First Lady entered.

The guard in front of her remained impassive, his right hand resting on the hilt of the long sword he carried at his side. Not a threat, of course, but just a symbol of his vigilance.

She was just doing her job, Shenya knew, but she still found it unnerving that a mere guard would prevent her from going where she wished; she fought the urge to huff and start tapping her foot impatiently, merely crossing her arms over her chest and masking her face in an expression of perfect calm. But he did not lower his gaze, continuing to stare into the pale blue eyes of the man in front of him in an attempt to intimidate him.

But the guard was not, after all, a mere guard: above his dark blue livery, embossed with a white moon, he wore the silver crest of the royal house's crescent moon.

He was not just a guard, he was the captain.

Shenya moved her long blond hair off her shoulder, letting it fall softly down her back, and looked more closely at the man.

The hard, square face, marked by the first wrinkles was a darker shade than that of the usual soldiers guarding the castle, probably tanned by the sun. The short-cut hair was brown, streaked with gray at the temples, and the aquiline nose and tight lips reminded her of the man's name: Terwin Brach.

Shenya furrowed her brow for a moment before hiding again in apparent tranquility. What was the captain of the royal guards, who was usually found all over Orios carrying the Queen's Peace, doing lurking in front of the royal bedroom?

Mother Moon will show me the way, thought Shenya. Or at least the Queen will, she added with amusement.

But she felt nervous now in the presence of the man. Not about the man himself, but about the news he would bring. She had been away from Firstfall and the Queen for too long; she absolutely had to talk to Mariam and learn about recent events.

If only the Queen had deigned to open the door and let her in.

With a slight sigh she shifted her gaze from Brach, she had surrendered to the reality that she could not get his eyes down and now she understood why, to the dark walnut double-doors decorated in relief with wrought-iron spirals.

She was about to start getting impatient and ask Brach to announce her again when the Queen's muffled voice came to her.

"Go ahead," Mariam said, her voice barely audible but her tone of command clear.

Brach nodded, as if the queen could see him, and turned to open the door wide before stepping back and allowing Shenya to pass. He did not say a single word.

Shenya showed her first emotion since she had met the man: she smiled softly and bowed her head in his direction as a sign of respect. If the man has even a little brain, she thought, he will notice the venom behind my gestures.

He cast one last glance at the captain but the man's face was like stone, emotionless.

When she crossed the threshold, the heavy doors closed behind her without a sound, the hinges well oiled.

Shenya gathered her robes, the red silk slipping through her fingers, and made the deepest reverence befitting her rank.

"My lady," he said with his head bowed, without looking at her, in submission.

There was a moment of silence, broken only by the rustling of silk, then the Queen's fingers brushed her chin, inciting her to raise her head.

"Does my First Lady need these formalities?" asked the Queen, without any expression even though the tone of her voice was warm.

Shenya looked up and her face broke into a wide smile as she met Mariam's dark eyes. For the first time since she had set foot in Firstfall again, she finally felt at home.

She pursed her lips to greet her cousin when another rustle, which this time did not belong to the Queen, made her notice the other people in the room.

She immediately recognized old Selenna, the Queen's servant since Mariam was still a maiden, impeccably coiffed from her hair to her severe dark gray robe with the white crescent moon embroidered on the heart. Selenna kept her eyes downcast, but when she felt Shenya's gaze on her she bowed impeccably.

The other maidservant, on the other hand, was new or, at least, Shenya had never seen her: a young girl with light brown hair, some strands had escaped from her bun and fell over her face; she judged that at least she wore her robe well, the same as Selenna's. However, overall he considered her slovenly, unfit to be in the Queen's service, and the slowness with which she bowed increased his disappointment.

She brought her eyes back to Mariam and raised an eyebrow slightly in a mute request. The Queen's face was still impassive, but Shenya immediately noticed the way the woman lightly bit the corner of her mouth to prevent herself from smiling.

"You are dismissed," the Queen said with a flutter of her hand, without even looking at them, and the two servants gathered their skirts in a final bow before leaving.

Shenya waited quietly for the doors to close again before launching herself forward and throwing her arms around Mariam's neck and holding her tightly to herself.

The Queen laughed loudly at her crystal-clear laugh, but she returned the embrace, hiding her face in the crook of her cousin's neck, letting out a small sigh of relief.

"I missed you," whispered Mariam, squeezing her for the last time before letting her go.

Shenya passed his hands from her neck to her shoulders in a gentle caress and left them there giving her a slow glance in an attempt to glean as many details as possible.

At least physically, Mariam seemed to be doing well. Her hair and dress were as flawless as ever, and she seemed to have a healthy glow to her cheeks, which were always too pale.

He should get out more, he thought absentmindedly, but he knew it was impossible.

The queen was to stay at the palace.

Mariam took her hand in his and led her to the white velvet-covered bench near the fireplace, Shenya moved uncomfortably on the bench, it was too hot in there for her taste, but she knew how chilly Mariam could get.

"Tell me everything!" urged the Queen, turning to her, without letting go of her hand.

Shenya sighed exaggeratedly, sad, and said, "You don't even ask me how I am? Really, Mariam, you hurt me. Here" And she put her free hand over her heart, in an unnecessarily theatrical gesture.

Mariam chuckled amusedly, covering her mouth with the back of her hand and shaking her head slightly.

"You know what I would ask of you if I were to follow my wishes."

"Dress or husband?" huffed Shenya as she rolled her eyes.

"First, don't be nasty to your queen. Second, both things, really."

Shenya bit his tongue in an attempt to suppress a nasty response. She pondered what to answer first and decided to go with the most innocuous one.

"I already told you, about the dress. I prefer bright colors, they look better on me."

"The reigning Whitmune lineage by tradition-"

"Oh, but I am a Freyrdt. Or even better, a Burg," replied Shenya promptly, before realizing her mistake.

When he saw Mariam's smirk of victory he realized his mistake and sighed sadly, mentally preparing himself for the lecture that was sure to come.

"Your lord husband is a good person, Shenya, and-"

"I know Virtholm is a good man, wonderful even, but you already know our situation," Shenya said offhandedly before realizing his second mistake in that brief conversation and chilling.

"This is the second time you have interrupted me, my Dame, make sure there is no third," the tone of her voice had not changed but the accompanying smile was icy. In her eyes was the unspoken warning.

Shenya swallowed and lowered her gaze. She and Mariam were only one year apart which made the Queen older than her, but they had grown up together and together they had become women, they had always been inseparable and it had only been natural that Shenya had become the Queen's First Lady when Mariam sat on the throne. But she always had to remember that before a cousin, before a sister, Mariam was her Queen.

Although it was difficult at times.

"Forgive me, Your Highness," Shenya murmured, and in Mariam's smile warmth returned.

"Come on, let me see this dress of yours. It's new isn't it? And the silk doesn't look Oriosian to me!" the Queen clapped her hands and motioned for her to stand up.

Shenya took the blatant way out he was giving her. She knew he would not ask her about her husband again, for now at least, and that this was a silent excuse for using his power on her, After getting to her feet, she began to spin around making her skirt rise and rotate with her movements. The silk seemed to be iridescent, revealing golden streaks with each movement that were hard to notice otherwise. It looked like liquid fire and the Queen laughed delightedly, clapping her hands again in encouragement.

I am dancing in the flames, thought Shenya with a smile before stopping breathlessly with her back to Mariam, then winking at her from over her shoulder.

"Solis silk," she said simply, returning to her seat with one last flutter of her dress.

"Solis! What were you doing there?"

"I heard rumors of how beautiful King Calis was and wanted to see it for myself."

"Shenya! I send you on a mission for the Crown, and you think of men!" she widened her eyes in scandal, but Shenya could hear the amused tone in her voice.

"I bought it in Lapis when I passed through Deepsvale, being practically on the border it is easy to find textiles from Solis," chuckled Shenya, though for a moment she wondered if she had gone too far, joking like that.

But Mariam did not seem to resent this; on the contrary.

"So you're not sure the King is as beautiful as they say?" he said playing along.

"Unfortunately, not yet. But I have seen so many things! I don't know where to begin to tell you about them all!"

"I have things to tell you too, my dear Dame," whispered Mariam and for a moment she seemed lost in thought, the smile, however, continued to veil her lips.

"What things?" asked Shenya curiously.

In the Silver Palace nothing ever happened,they all lived in a perpetual cycle that always played out the same way. It was quite boring and that is why, when Mariam had asked her to travel all over Orios and beyond, she had readily agreed. All to avoid monotony.

And the embarrassment of living with her husband.

"You first. Tell" suddenly the smile disappeared, and before him Shenya no longer had Mariam, the sister, but Mariam, the Queen.