I hated this month.
The dull ache across my shoulders felt as if I had been battered for days, the price of enduring three endless days inside a jolting carriage. Even though we stopped at small inns along the way, the brief rests did little to ease the fatigue of this journey.
Not that I had felt any peace of mind from the very beginning.
Only three days ago, I was still the second daughter of the western lord, envied by many for being born into wealth and noble blood. My life had been one of privilege, and I was known simply as the Second Young Lady.
But now… here I was, inside an ordinary carriage rattling through the snow, on my way to become nothing more than a political pawn.
"If you refuse the marriage, then go to Laf and live as a hostage!""At the very least, let your existence serve some purpose to this land!"
Those were my father's furious words—the words of a man who had long despised his own daughter. And because of them, I now found myself traveling to the foreign capital of Laf.
"Entering the capital soon!" the coachman shouted. "Another hour and we'll reach the royal palace!"
So it begins… Laf.
I drew back the curtain to glimpse the city. Rows of tightly packed houses lined the snowy streets, their roofs and trees draped in white. Lanterns glowed a warm amber, casting life into the cold morning, though few dared to tread the knee-deep snow outside.
The closer we came to the palace, the taller and grander the buildings grew—nothing like the modest stone halls of my homeland.
The carriage halted before the towering gates.
"Second daughter of Lord Fielar, summoned by His Majesty's order," the coachman announced. I handed the sealed letter of summons to a grim-faced guard. His eyes narrowed with suspicion.
"I've had no such notice," he muttered, barely glancing at the seal. "This could be a forgery."
Before I could protest, another guard approached—his armor lined with brass, marking him as a higher rank.
"Give it here," he ordered. The first guard obeyed, passing him my letter with careless hands that nearly tore the parchment. My heart sank.
He studied it briefly, then shook his head. "She cannot enter."
Exhaustion from the journey mingled with a rising storm of anger. When they waved us away—when their spears lifted toward us—I felt close to bursting.
Then—thunder of hooves.
A stallion, tall and powerful, its chestnut coat gleaming, charged to the side of my carriage. The rider dismounted with effortless grace, clad in a heavy black fur cloak.
Without a word, he extended his hand. The guards surrendered my letter instantly. My letter—snatched from me without thought, now given to a stranger.
I tried to leave the carriage to demand it back, but the coachman restrained me. The man disappeared into the guardhouse.
Moments later, the very guards who had mocked me now rushed out in panic. The officer bowed low, returned my letter, and begged forgiveness.
The palace gates opened.
"Welcome, Lady Elise of Fielar," greeted a woman with elegance and authority. She was Madame Magnet, elder sister of King John himself. "His Majesty sends his deepest apologies for not receiving you in person."
"Please, there's no need," I answered with a polite smile.
"For the sake of fostering ties between our two realms," she continued warmly, "you will reside at Randes Castle, under the care of our younger brother, Lord Edward. Far more suitable than the cold embassy quarters, don't you agree?"
So… I was to be housed under their watch, in their own stronghold, rather than the safety of my homeland's embassy.
"Would this arrangement displease you, Lady Elise?"
How could Elise of Fielar possibly refuse? "No, of course not."
"Excellent." Her smile deepened. "But you had a request?"
I steadied my voice. "Yes. As a gesture of goodwill, I wish to go by the name Lillian during my time here."
"Lillian… like the lily flower?"
"Yes."
"Then welcome, Lady Lillian, to the Greater Kingdom."