A woman with dark hair and troubled eyes was walking quickly down the halls towards the chamber of the palace that had been given to the Fjellborgan's to stay in during the wedding celebrations--and now a funeral. She looked disturbed and she held her skirts up as she kept moving. They billowed behind her like dark wings as she finally spotted who she had been hunting down. A tall and strong man was at the end of the hall and she approached him as if there were fire upon her heels.
She was quite out of breath by the time that she reached him and had to take a moment before she spoke.
"Tell me-" she stopped and sucked another breath. "Tell me it isn't true." She shook her head. "Tyr, I heard that your father has asked you to stay here after the funeral and coronation of Prince Brynjar have taken place." Her voice was hushed and her eyes held fear and concern. Tyr was her oldest and greatest friend and when she had heard he was expected to stay and continue to repair relations it had made her stomach sick.
The foolish Byrdain's were quick to turn their accusations upon the Fjellborgan's for their late king's death. It was preposterous of course. Why would they kill the man who had helped finally end all of the blood shed?
Elska knew that if they kept Tyr in Byrdain it was only going to give them an opportunity for subterfuge. She already hated that Ingrid had been married to the sickly prince--though it seemed to two were already becoming allies--and she wasn't going to lose Tyr too. Ull was gone, Jorvik was not long for this world as he was an old man, and with her own father gone she would be in anguish to lose the last person that mattered most to her in the world.
"Please Tyr, this place is full of people who would love nothing more than to watch you and your people fall. We need you to come home." Even if it was at the request of Jorvik that Tyr stay, Elska still hoped that it could be undone.