The blue skies overhead seemed endless and open, with puffs of clouds dancing across the sun. Though the air was still cold, it had a brightness to it that hinted at the nearness of the green season and its buds and saplings.

The courtyard was abuzz with activity, a stark contrast to the stillness Idelle had last seen it in the night before. Men and women and children bustled about, travelling from place to place, doing laundry, canning, fixing wagons and grooming horses, and a thousand other chores. They were all absorbed in their work, not bothering to look up at two newcomers in their midst, though if someone did happen to catch sight of them, Torran would earn a quick bow or curtsy before moving on.

They worked their way to the main building steps, where Torran hobbled up without being stopped by the old man again. In fact, even the guards posted at the doors did nothing beyond a salute to acknowledge them as Idelle and Torran walked through and into the great hall and another flurry of servants cleaning and preparing the rooms for the day.

The hall was open to the inner ward, a sort of courtyard within, where great pains were taken to create a pleasing garden for the centerpiece of the building. The open roof over the garden let in the morning sunshine and bird song, and the breeze carried into the hall through the open pillared gallery between the two. The smell of greenery, even though it had not quite woken up for spring yet, filled Idelle's nostrils.

Along the edges of the inner ward were the apartments of the castle. In one far corner sat the kitchen and scullery, where the assistant cooks were taking a break in the open air to cool their fire-heated faces. Another corner boasted the court, which took up an entire side of the castle wall. Inside the room, the kings and queens of Wynherst would hold their audiences, speaking with the people and perhaps even holding balls or banquets. Above it, another gallery and some rooms, though Idelle could not tell their purpose. Then, to Idelle and Torran's left, was the brick of living apartments. This was where Torran headed, walking through a narrow aisle made of ankle-height bushes in the inner ward's garden.

The lower apartments were for the servants, and Torran walked right by them and up the stairs to a long indoor gallery filled with paintings and tapestries of the monarchs long dead. They didn't slow down to look, but Idelle caught sight of an unfinished canvas, propped against the wall, with a man's arm and a touch of coppery hair curling around the collar of a deep emerald doublet. She couldn't look for much longer, as Torran was already at the end of the gallery and opening an arched door into a spacious ante-chamber. Here, he met with a young woman in a black gown, who, though her face was blotchy with the trace of tears, smiled and dipped into a curtsy.

"Your Grace!" she breathed, the smile still on her face. "Oh, you don't know how joyous it is to see you at last! Lady Aelg-- Her Majesty will be so pleased! Oh! Oh!" She clapped her hands as if she couldn't hold in her delight, and then motioned to a series of embroidered couches, chairs, chaise lounges, and stools scattering the ante-chamber. "Please, sit down and rest while I tell Her Majesty that you are here."

The girl vanished through a door on the other side of the chamber, and Torran made his way to one of the chairs. As he lowered himself down with his splinted leg out in front of him, Idelle chose a chaise lounge just to his side. She felt silly sitting on the roses and ivy curling along the cream fabric when she was dressed in hand-me-down men's clothes, and her leg began to jog as she looked around the room. There wasn't much to see beyond the high, vaulted stone ceilings and slit windows looking out over the castle wall and into the city. A few carpets, in the same powdery floral as the seating, warmed the floors, and silk tapestries disguised the stone brick walls. A fire lit the room in a hearth the right size for a kitchen, and did much to drive the cold and drafts away.

Torran closed his eyes as they waited, leaning against the back of his chair. Idelle was glad that the castle healers had seen to his leg overnight. He already looked healthier, with a rosy glow to his cheeks that she had not yet seen. She couldn't stop herself from tracing over his face, finding little details that had escaped her before. His eyelashes were blonde and long, sparkling in the firelight, and he had a light splatter of freckles over his nose. His hair curled near his ears, making small ringlets that were half-hidden under the bulk of his waves. Now that it was clean and not soaked with sweat, she could see he had so much hair. Idelle wouldn't be surprised if the women of the castle envied him for it. He kept it short, but she knew the women would probably trade their length for its volume and shine. And his lips... tight in concern and anxiety and...

"Torran."

Idelle whipped her gaze away from Torran's lips just as he opened his eyes at the sound of a female voice. Across the room, the door had opened and a girl stepped through with the swish of black wool skirts. Her flaming red hair fell in loose ringlets down her shoulders and back, and a golden circlet swooped down across her forehead, a singular pearl drop falling between her brows. Her face was all youthful roundness, with red cheeks and wide eyes, and a small little rosebud mouth. She couldn't have been long in her womanhood, a few years younger than Idelle, yet this was obviously Aelga. The Queen.

Though Torran lept to his feet as best as he could with the splint, neither of the two made any move toward each other. They stood, respectably distant, and exchanged a bow and a nod.

"Would you leave me to talk to my cousin, please?" Queen Aelga asked, looking at the young woman who had greeted them when they'd first arrived. The young woman darted a glance to Torran and then back.

"High Lord Reynard asked that we observe proper etiquette now that you've been crowned queen. He says there's a different standard..."

Queen Aelga folded her hands in front of her. "He is my cousin. And we will have... I'm sorry, what is your name?"

It took Idelle a few seconds to realize that this was directed at her. She blinked in surprise at the queen's gaze on her, and quickly ducked into a curtsy before realizing she should bow if she was wearing trousers. In a twist of legs and arms, she converted it to the proper bow and then straightened, her cheeks burning. "My name is Idelle, Your Majesty."

Queen Aelga nodded, as if this was the correct answer, and gestured toward her. "Soldier Idelle is here, so I will not be alone with a man. My cousin, mind you."

The attendant still looked unsure, but Queen Aelga had already turned back to Torran, as if the conversation had ended. The young woman shot Idelle a look, as if asking for help, but Idelle could only shrug. Finally, the attendant picked up her skirts and reluctantly retreated through the door.

Once the room was empty, Queen Aelga's entire face changed. The aloof expression disappeared as her lips trembled and her brow crumbled. Tears sprang into her large eyes, splattering down her round cheeks as she rushed forward and threw herself into Torran's arms.