Ingrid sat at the foot of Tyr's bed as he finished dressing himself. Ingrid idly traced the pattern on her gauntlets. Tyr would be leaving tomorrow. Most of the Fjellborgans would be leaving tomorrow. The rest would no doubt leave after the funeral. Then she would be on her own. That was not a thought that Ingrid enjoyed dwelling on. She had Lelinus, true, but her allies were few and far between in Byrdain. It would take one word from Brynjar and she would be an outcast in the court.
Ingrid shifted in her corset. She was grateful that it was styled to at least look like armour, but it lacked any of the comfort of armour. The gauntlets were her own. She was still Fjellborgan, though she would humour the Byrdainians their one day of pomp. The corset was uncomfortably tight around her waist. She reached back, trying to loosen the ties with limited success. And she hadn't realised just how much breast she had until she had been tied into the infernal contraption. They were high and proudly declaring her as a woman.
"Swap," she grumbled. "Let me wear your tunic and you can wear this ridiculous thing."
Tyr chuckled. "I'm not sure I would look nearly as lovely as you do. Lelinus must be pleased."
Ingrid frowned at the edge in her brother's voice. "He's hasn't seen me today."
Tyr turned to look at her, "No?"
Ingrid shook her head. "He had business to attend to and I was left to the mercy of a small army of handmaidens. I'm half afraid to do anything in case I undo their work."
Tyr offered his hand to his sister, helping her to her feet. "And yet you made it here." He said, leading Ingrid across the room. "Is Lelinus treating you well?"
Brief flickers of their nights together, of bare skin and gentle touches; of the days they spent together, their hands brushing against each other, words said and unsaid. "He is. You have nothing to worry about."
Light footsteps came down the hallway towards them. The siblings looked up to see Elska running towards them. Ingrid untangled her arm from Tyr's. "I'll see you at the coronation." She said and headed back to the keep, leaving her brother alone with Elska.
Tyr watched his sister leave as Elska came toward him.
"Tell me-" she stopped and sucked in a 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. 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."
Elska's concern was palpable. Even if they hadn't grown up together, Tyr fancied he would still have been able to sense it. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "It won't be forever, Elska. Just until Ingrid is properly settled, or father calls me back, whichever comes first. Besides, King Brynjar wouldn't raise a hand against me if he was wise. It would mean another war soon after peace had been brokered. No new king worth his weight would take that risk. I will be perfectly safe."
