The snow was thick on the grounds of Seansloe Manor. It lay in deep drifts in the garden causing limbs of evergreens to droop under the weight, while their naked limbed brethren stood straight and scraggly with ice for its clothing. The stone paths were cleared only by those that braved the mid calf deep cold to walk in the crystalline beauty. Walk, or play, as the young children of Sylvia had taken to doing that midday before more lessons claimed their time. Beata was bundled up and taking more pleasure in flopping down in the snow than trying to keep up with her brothers running wild, kicking and throwing the snow in joyous abandon.

Rian had taken a seat on one of the benches cleared off by her gloved hands. Her berry red cloak wrapped close about her and framed her pensive face. Sylvia kept watch over Beata and the little princeling for Rian. Like her sister, Marghaid, Rian was finding the carrying of her second child more difficult than her first. Marghaid had written again of her fears of a repeat occurrence of miscarriage. It ached Sylvia that she could give nothing more than words of hope, something so rare to find as the worries of the kingdom, the tensions of civil strife brewing across the land, became heightened with each passing week.

?My love,? Maelgwn came across the garden to sit by his wife, ?I will be leaving tomorrow to finish the journey back home. I know I leave you in the safest place to be found.?

A bitterness tainted the lady?s face. ?I know it and yet would rather not be here. I feel so trapped.?

It was hard not to overhear the conversation, though Sylvia tried desperately to do so by playing with the children.

?No, you are not trapped. You are protected as are our children. Your family will make that certain.?

Sylvia could not see or hear the small nod the Princess made, but she did hear the sigh caught upon the cold wind. ?Alright, children, it is time to head inside before we all become human statues. Warm ciders to be found in the family rooms, so off you go with Miriam.?

The nanny took Beata in her arms, the princeling by the hand, and set the other two boys ahead. When she turned to the royal couple, only Maelgwn was still seated on the bench. Rian had started for the manor as well, taking her son from Miriam?s care but still walking with all the others. ?She is unhappy here, Maelgwn. That is not good for the baby or her.?

?It cannot be helped, Syl.? He stood with a firm clapping of his gloved hands as if to call the discussion to an end. ?I will be asking you to join me in two day?s time. It is of concern my time spent here and having my wife sheltered here. I would not ask to bring Cian into the dangers of the court. It would be foolish, but you would provide assurance to my father of this barony?s loyalty to him. It is vital that be proven.?

"We have made good time today, my lady, in spite of the weather." Ewan spoke from where he road upon his horse at her left side. "The inn is not much further on from here."

Sylvia looked ahead on the road that did not offer much past the next bend where trees both scraggly bare and green but heavy with frost and snow concealed the distance. "Then we should reach it before dark." The horse tossed his head, shaking his bridle and giving the air an additional tiny jangle of metal to the thump of hooves and strain of leather saddles.

The company was small. Four men in front and four behind them along with a guard sharing the wagon bench with the driver were all that accompanied them on the journey to the King's City. They were just reaching the edge of Yransea lands. Along that small creek, most likely frozen, would be the border inn. A handy place for those that travel the roads across the lands to know the markings of one territory to another as much by those buildings as whatever natural element had been chosen to mark the territory.

"Yes," Ewan nodded. He felt stretched out over the land they traveled through. Memories laying out places where malcontents could hide as well as searching for evidence of strangers and more natural dangers. Winter months could make the animals more bold. "We could press on if you wished. It would allow us to arrive at His Majesty's some earlier if we started off the morning further along our route."

Sylvia shook her head. "I see no reason to hurry our arrival. It will come soon enough, and makes no impact on how soon we may depart." The truth that she wished they were going the other way need not be spoken. But she felt it hanging in the air between them, and so changed the subject. "I was surprised your wife and son came with you considering you would not be with them."

Shifting in his saddle, Ewan felt his irritation prick at the center of his back. "Yes." As much as he desired to leave it at that, he knew he could not. "Storm wished to visit family and spend more time in my homeland."

While Sylvia found the timing unruly, she had no business into the affairs of Ewan's personal life when it caused no difficulty for her family or her barony. "Lyana will be glad of the company -- to have another lady of martial prowess around."

Thinking of his wife was distracting, and he responded to the off hand remark with a grunt that was neither agreement nor disagreement. He narrowed emerald green eyes on the curve of the road. Just beyond it was the bridge looking sound and in good repair. The smoke of a hearty fire careened up from a stone chimney of the two story inn just beyond it.

Feeling sore from the length of riding, it had been some time since she had done so, Sylvia could not help but smile at the sight. "Another day then."

"Another day." Ewan agreed, and they rode on to their night's shelter.

"My lady, will you not tell me what occupies your thoughts?" Lord Llewellyn broke into their silence. He had requested to join her on a cold stroll through the castle gardens.

She granted him a smile and even a weakened laugh. "Where I once lived they would call that 'a penny for your thoughts', and that is about what they are worth to others."

He joined in the smile, though somewhat hesitant in his question. "Would sharing them devalue them in some way?"

The insight drew Sylvia to a halt. She had known the man to be clever in a political arena. He had built up an unimportant land holding into a seat of power in the north through his deft agreements and non too little devious manipulations. That he also held some gentler wisdom astonished her with its incongruity. "Perhaps, yes," she whispered and walked on.

They continued in silence. The gardens were well maintained even with their white raiments of snow and ice. The paths were swept enough to make them clear as they wandered between hedges and carefully planted sections that were meant to look natural. All was quiet, even the fountain, its water iced and frozen. Sylvia traced a gloved hand over its surface and wondered if Cian was skating at all in his days.

Lord Llewellyn seemed to follow her thoughts. "It is not quite big enough to skate upon, not like the lake near my home. A suitable and sizable venue for skating or learning to skate."

"I assure you, my lord," Sylvia smiled to him and walked on, "I know how to skate."

"I suspect your middle child, Aidan, has not yet learned."

It was an innocent remark and still a warning pelted like a rabbit startled from its burrow around her heart. "Aidan skates with assistance, my lord, and he will learn in time. We have suitable venues as well in Yransea."

Clearing his throat behind his gloved hand he nodded, "Yes, of course, of course. I remember when I first learned. I was quite young and with my father."

"Not long ago then," Sylvia smiled and tossed the flattery to appease the man who reacted with a prideful straightening of his back just as she anticipated.

His chuckle was half rumble and half bark. "Oh, longer than that, but I am still young. Young and old at the same time, it sometimes seems to me, my lady. I've found I have gained much, but still not attained some of the important things in life. Like someone to share what I know, what I've learned, and what I would like to pass on."

Sylvia nodded, she could understand that, particularly in a man of his age. She had her children and barring any catastrophe, another thought that sent that panic scurrying through her once more, she had them to share what she and Kieran's family have earned and learned. They would continue past her death. It was satisfying and sad. Her dear friend Hudson had not had that, except in two little boys trying so hard to creep softly about their rooms.

"There is still time." Her smile warmed. She was becoming accustomed to his company, though she knew there was some purpose behind it. That there was did not mean she had to be rude.

"Hmm," he grunted, "little and less. I have hope, though, that I may in time have that someone to share with."

"Syl!" Maelgwn hailed and came fast across the gardens with one guard at his heels. "I am glad to see you both," he added with a bounce of brows and smile to Llewellyn. "Things are going well?"

"As well as can be expected, my lord." Llewellyn bowed his head.

"Very good, but I regretfully must claim Baroness Sylvia from you for a moment. We will see you at dinner?" Maelgwn offered his arm to Sylvia who managed with her layers of cloak and gloves and the same upon the prince to place her hand upon it without exposing herself to too much of the cheerful but chilly breeze.

"Of course, Your Highness," another bow, deeper, from the lord who did not turn from them but watched as they parted.

"What do you think of Lord Llewellyn, Syl?" Maelgwn asked as they entered the back entry, the small foyer empty of anyone.

"He seems amiable and very accomplished; a clever man."

Maelgwn did not look pleased at her very reserved opinion. "I had hoped you would think a bit more highly of him."

Sylvia could feel the chafe of the political noose tightening. "To what reason?"

"I need Llewellyn bound to me. He has no children, or I would match one to one of mine."

They had come to it and what Sylvia had feared was tickling at the back of her mind. She dare to speak it in hopes it would burst like a nightmare brought into sunlight. "You wish one of my children to be his heir."

"In a sense, yes, Sylvia. I want you to marry him and Aidan will be his heir until such a time that you provide him with one."

He spoke it so simply, like it were the tallies of harvest, or a report on the water levels of a lake. It was as it was to him: an alliance, a political move, and she at the heart of it. "And if I refuse? If I refuse to be used as a brood mare to assure your seat as King?"

Maelgwn grit his teeth so hard Sylvia could hear it. "How high and mighty of you, Sylvia. My beloved wife was joined to me in such a bargain so you might marry your beloved Kieran. Is she a brood mare? Do you think so low of her, though her sacrifice brought you your happiness?"

She felt the words like a blow and stepped back from them, her hand to heart. The question whipped at her, making her wonder if that was exactly what she thought but had ignored or shut away. "Is she so unhappy, Maelgwn?"

"No, and neither would you be. It worked for Rian and myself. We are happy, and I love her dearly. I love her." He emphasized as if to separate it from everything else and to hold up as its own truth. "It still came from a bargain, a deal made to assure the power of the kingdom was unbreakable. I am not yet commanding. I will hope that I do not have to force this upon you."

"Of course, Your Highness." She curtsied and did not life her eyes to him. "May I go to my rooms?"

"You will be seated at my side tonight, Sylvia, and I will hope our conversation can be of lighter matters." He turned from her as a dismissal and she walked like a phantom to the rooms that now felt like a cell.

He laughed and nodded to accept the correction. It was a laugh that snuffed as soon as the door was opened and Ewan arrived looking like a fiery storm cloud all lightening and darkness on the heels of a page. The page executed his duty in handing over the message to Sylvia and departed.

When she read scrawl and smudged with travel stains and sweaty hands, her stomach knotted as a chill like a frozen lantern post formed in the center of her. She narrowed eyes on Ewan who nodded at the look. ?What do you think then, Master Corinsson??

?They attack Eadric for one purpose only, to weaken us.?

Sylvia looked at the note again. ?Four days ago.?

?It has begun,? Ewan returned and then glanced to Llewellyn with a questioning raise of one brow.

Ignoring Llewellyn?s presence entirely or his critical expression of their words like he was deciphering a puzzle and coming to its conclusions swiftly as each bit of information was revealed, Sylvia continued. ?They will have reached Seansloe then, you believe.?

?I do.?

?Our numbers are not what they should be with the winter upon us and the season.? Sylvia crumpled the paper in her fist.

?Let me aid you, my lady,? Llewellyn spoke up as he stood and approached with a hand out and palm up as if what he offered was on his palm.

Ewan growled almost like a dog giving warning for stranger to back away from his mistress. Sylvia was not far from growling herself, but instead she let the ice of her soul slip into her voice. ?Bargain is it, my lord? My hand for your help? My son for your warband??

?No,? the powerful land owner spat out as if he had been struck by a thorn, drawing his hand back. ?No, aid for a barony that needs and deserves it. If Yransea falls, civil war is no longer a vague threat upon the minds of anxious old men in corners. It will be at all our doors.?

?And that is no good for trade or alliances on any side,? Ewan said with a smooth smile.

Llewellyn did not deny it, but only glanced to the Master of Arms before turning his focus back on Sylvia. ?Very well. When can they be ready??

?In the early of morning.?

?Good.? Ewan?s voice held a strange sharp edge to it. His voice was dark, pitched deeper than his normal baritone. ?That will serve.? He said nothing more but bowed his head and departed.

Sylvia did not acknowledge more than his parting, which evidently puzzled Llewellyn. She diverted him by adding, ?I will speak to His Highness and His Majesty. But whether they give leave or not, we are departing at the earliest moment possible.?

?Then I should start those preparations.? He claimed her hand and kissed the knuckles. The gesture was not lost on Sylvia for his swearing without words, his fealty. It was a dangerous move to adjust his loyalties away from his own barony to hers, but she would take it for now. She had to take it to keep her promise to her sons and to a people who claim her as their own.