"You are right. I am used to being untouchable when it comes to my brother's petty schemes. With him as king now, even my blood ties to him might not be able to keep me safe and others have less protection," Leo was quiet for a moment. "My father... In his final days my father showed more and more disappointment with Brynjar. I wish I could have spoken to him one last time... He wanted to tell me something important. I know it."
Ingrid reached out and took her husband's hand. "Whatever it was, we can't do anything about it now. We prepare for what's to come. My father is to leave today. Without him to watch over us, I fear Brynjar will only get worse. I somehow doubt taking his head will go down well with the court." Ingrid shifted on the bed as her legs started to go numb. "As I see it, the only thing to do is play his game. He intends to divide us, so we turn that against him. You and I, Tyr, Elska, Evagelina and Beorn, we must work together. I don't know how, but that is the only chance we have of surviving this. I..." her voice faltered, "I have seen the way he looks at me. I'm under no illusions as to his intentions if we were to be separated." Ingrid sighed and steeled herself. "We need to get everyone together, somehow, without arousing Brynjar's suspicions."
This was what she was good at; a plan of attack. Brynjar was the enemy and they were the army, small though they were. The only issue was the lack of weapons. She could hardly draw her sword on Brynjar and expect it all to be over. No, this was a battle that would require wit and wisdom to win it, and there were none better than her husband and her brother.
Tyr had managed to shake off the worst of his hangover. He pulled his clothes on, dressing simply as he preferred to do when he was at home. He pulled a cloak around his shoulders and headed out, the four walls of his room becoming too much to bear.
He let his feet lead him where they wished. He didn't know the keep well and was content to wander it, so long as his path did not cross with Brynjar. As he walked, he saw a familar figure across the way. Elska. Tyr hurried his step, trying to catch up with her. "Elska. Lady Elska," he called as he approached. He held her arm gently. "Are you well?" he asked quietly. "Did Brynjar...did he harm you in anyway?"