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Gwen wondered if the opulent life of a queen would be worth the loss of her freedom.
     
    ***
     
    Seahaven was a massive limestone structure, its towers stretching toward the sky, with two layers of curtain walls fortifying it, the River Tyryn curving around it in a natural moat, and the Elyri Sea at its back. In Alemere, Seahaven was literally at the end of the world, the castle walls pressed up against the shore at the realm’s northernmost point. As the drawbridge was lowered for their hunting party, their horses pawed the ground restlessly. The banners of House Toustain fluttered in the breeze, and the humid, moist air coming from over the sea caused sweat to trickle down between Gwen’s shoulder blades. Once the drawbridge was down, they filed across it four abreast, through the two open portcullises of the gatehouse and the winding tunnel of the barbican before passing through the outer courtyard. Another curtain wall ringed the keep, housing an additional barbican filled with arrow loops and murder holes which loomed ominously above them. Gwen always shuddered to think of hot oil and arrows coming through those gaps in the stone, and the massacre they would cause should enemies ever decide to march upon Seahaven. There was no need to worry, her father always insisted. Alemere was at peace and had been since just before she was born.
    As they came into the inner bailey, the sights and smells of the castle assaulted her senses. The aroma of baking bread wafted from the bakehouse, mingling with the scent of the fresh hay in the cart passing them on its way to the stables. Steel clashed as knights trained their squires in the yard, and arrows raced toward straw targets. Milk maids trudged in the direction of the keep with fresh milk for the kitchens, and serving boys ran here and there about their tasks. The courtyard was crowded, more so than usual. It only               took Gwen a moment to realize why.
    “It would seem your prince has arrived early,” Leofred murmured as he helped her down from her grey palfrey. Gwen frowned at the sight of horses she did not recognize being led to the stables, and trunks being toted toward the entrance of the keep.
    Gwen sighed. Prince Gaiwan had come, and she would be expected to dress and greet him, to entertain him at dinner, to cage her defiant nature until he was gone. “Hmm,” she mumbled , “so it would seem.”
    “You’d better hurry to your chambers before Mother sees you,” Jorin whispered as they neared the keep.
    She elbowed him in the ribs. “Be quiet, you.” Yet, she knew he was right. It would be best if she could avoid Lady Enid until she was bathed and properly dressed. In the main hall, fresh rushes were being laid on the stone floors, and wooden tables and benches erected. Maids rushed back and forth with candle sticks, loaves of bread, wheels of cheese, and flagons of wine. Casks of ale were being hauled from the storeroom; all around them, tapestries were beaten to free them of dust and dirt. The tapestries boasted the symbol of the Toustains, as well those of their vassals—ship and minstrel. Gwen noticed new tapestries that Lady Enid undoubtedly had created especially for this occasion: white with a roaring blue ocean wave etched upon it—the emblem of House Bainard. Blue fringe adorned the edges.
    Gwen quickly ascended the northern staircase, ignoring the curious stares of servants as they surveyed her soiled clothing. She found her lady’s maid, Lynet, waiting beside a large, steaming tub with linens draped over her arm.
    “Welcome home , m’lady,” she said, curtsying as Gwen swept into the room. Leaving the linens on a small table beside the tub, she rushed forward to accept Gwen’s bow and quiver. She quickly undressed Gwen, peeling away the layers of her surcoat, kirtle, and chainse, leaving Gwen nude in the balmy air streaming through the open, arched windows.
    “Burn the surcoat and gown,” Gwen instructed Lynet, who