Ysilla stood in the great hall of Runestone, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows through the stained glass. She had heard the whispers—Ser Mychel Redfort, embroiled with a commoner’s bastard. No doubt their fathers had summoned this meeting to bind them by marriage, to settle matters quietly and this meeting being the start of their courtship.

The doors opened, and he entered. Calm and composed, Ysilla inclined her head with a polite smile.

“Ser Mychel, welcome to Runestone. I trust your journey was uneventful.”