/-Kaelynn's pov-/
I froze. Was I not supposed to sit here? I looked up slowly to see a man in grey military garb storming toward me. His pace quickened as he assessed me with harsh eyes.
I didn't see Nephroma move until she stepped into his path.
"What is the matter?" she asked flatly, though her tone carried more than irritation.
The guard scowled.
"Haven't you heard?" he barked. "Today is the King's memorial and the Five Houses will be arriving any minute now, yet you stand here asking questions?"
When his hand hovered near his sword, I blinked, unsure if I was imagining it. But this guard was ready to cut off my head.
"Get her out of here," he snapped. "Back to the servants' quarters. Or I'll mark her as a spy this instant."
My eyes widened. I didn't know people here were so quick to draw words, let alone swords. I glared at him, tempted to speak my mind but that might not be wise.
Nephroma tsked dryly. "How easily your words fall from your mouth," she said with a smile. "And how easily they might cut the wrong throat. How can you assume she's a servant?"
As if summoned by tension, Evangra and Syrr stepped forward. They stood shoulder to shoulder with Nephroma, forming a curved wall between him and me.
"We've been sent by the Queen herself," Evangra said, "to escort this girl to Castle Court and here we are."
The guard's gaze slid down to me slowly.
My skin itched.
His eyes moved from my braided hair, my too-small arms, bruised knuckles to my limp legs, wrapped in thick white bandages… his hand inched again toward his sword.
"And what use is a cripple to the Queen?"
I flinched.
"If you speak another word of nonsense," Evangra said coldly, "your head will meet the sacred floor on which we stand." With those words, she retrieved something from the folds of her robes… the same scroll and unraveled it with the slowness of a tortoise.
I knew she was doing that just to toy with the impatient guard.
When she was done, she showed him the royal raven crest designed in violet and silver.
I held my breath. That was the royal sigil. The courtiers taught me that the violet and silver raven belonged to my mother while the black and silver raven insignia belonged to my father.
The guard stared at it. Then slowly, he stepped back.
"Fair enough," he muttered. "But the Five Houses are bound to enter at any moment. Find her somewhere inconspicuous and quickly."
To my surprise, he stood straight and doffed his cap toward me. "My lady."
I didn't return the gesture. My attention was already elsewhere… fixed on the castle doors.
What was going on there? People had begun to gather.
Servants, nobles, perhaps even soldiers and scholars of the court had all turned toward the wide entrance as faint horns blew in the distance.
I smiled, excited about what was going on. For the first time, I'd get to see the five houses. The Five Houses.
They were arriving.
:::::::::::: :::::::::::: ::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::: ::::::
:::::::::::: :::::::::::: ::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::: ::::::
/Unknown pov/
The Five Great Houses of Castle Court stood as the backbone of Castle Court, each one holding power, and purpose. As the royal horns blared steadily every five seconds, six banners unfurled high in the air, catching the wind and drawing all eyes upward.
There was red, blue, yellow, green, violet, and one unlike the rest.
The sixth banner was black, shining with an elegant blend of all the colors to reveal the vibrant black silhouette of a raven.
Now, that banner didn't belong to any of the Five Houses. It represented the Crown itself—the Royal Insignia of the ruling house, Raventhorn.
Although technically born from its own bloodline, Raventhorn wasn't spoken of as a House among the five. Its banner always flew highest, placed above the rest as an absolute sign of authority in hierarchy.
It was impossible to deny that the royal banner was the most striking of them all. The raven's dark eyes seemed to stare into the soul of every man, woman, and child watching from the courtyard below.
It watched everything.
But never befriended anyone.
Among the banners that followed, the red flag stood out boldly, displaying the fierce insignia of a red wolf mid-leap—House Thorne.
House Thorne was the most influential among the Five Houses, and they didn't hide it.
Lord Alrik Thorne, head of the House, stood beneath his banner. He was a tall, commanding man, dressed in deep crimson robes that matched the rich curls on his head. His smile stretched across his face like it had been forced to stay there too long.
It wasn't a smile of pride, but one plastered there out of frustration and the reason for his tension stood just a few feet away.
Eris Thorne, his daughter, had just turned twenty. Her youthful face was dotted with light brown freckles, a soft imperfection to the rich red of her hair that fell in waves just past her shoulders.
Her green eyes were always sly in watching, but in this moment, they flickered toward her father's stiff smile.
She read him easily.
Whatever he wanted, it wasn't going to be asked aloud. It was written in his look, plainly.
Eris raised an eyebrow at the silent demand, and without saying a word, she made her way to her father's side.
Lord Alrik's smile softened. "Remember."
Eris gave her father a single nod, understanding exactly what he meant.
All of this passed in the five seconds they were given to fall back into order.
The horn blared again, and the procession continued.
Across the courtyard, the people gathered under the blue banner were in complete disarray. Those from House Elrean, the owls, were dressed in beautiful blue cloaks but they moved about in confusion. Their formation was loose, and their ranks were disorderly.
Even the children, no older than five, ran wild between their parents' feet as their mothers reached out in vain to catch them.
It was… terrible.