Dawn broke quietly over the tips of the glacial mountain range, scattering bright light across the vast expanse of the castle below. The sounds of the early laborers attending to their duties was muffled by the heavy cold of the air, a chill blanket that muted even the gentle songs of the snowbirds. Occasionally, a northern breeze carried the scent of ancient ice off the mountain, a teasing reminder of the awesome power of the Glacial Range. None who passed the range could survive the harsh winter beyond - or if they had, they'd never returned to share their tale.
From her tower balcony, Fiona watched the pale light of morning bleed across the sky in a dazzle of color, enjoying the smells of winter cold and cooking fires. Her tower was one of many in the Northernmost Fortress, an ancient, sprawling marvel of hard stone and black timber built at the base of the mountain pass. As it towered over the descending forest valley below, it was dwarfed by the incredible height of the Glacial Range at it's back. The Northernmost Fortress was an impressive sight, a true testament to the power of the Winter Kingdom. It was second in might only to the Capital, the home of the King. Fiona had never been to the center of the Kingdom, but she had heard that the Capital was a marvel of stonework rising out of the tall forest around it.
A steaming cup of mead was nestled in her hands; a special treat for a special day. The King was arriving for his annual visit to see his brother, Fiona's father and the Lord of the Northernmost Fortress. It was a trip that both families eagerly anticipated. The hunters and warriors would bolster the stores of meat for the coming winter while the gentler family members would gossip and build quilts together. Traditionally, these weeks were seen as a seasonal celebration of community and prosperity in a land of scarce game and hard living. Realistically, the Winter Kingdom was prosperous through trade with the southern kingdoms; large stores of timber, steel, and fairy gold mined from the mountain kept the population fed and warm. The days of hard living were a distant memory even among the oldest in the Winter Kingdom.
Fiona sipped her mead, a quiet bubble of excitement in her stomach. She would be thrilled to see her cousins, aunt and uncle, but she was most excited to see the queen's bastard son, Damhain. Before Queen Rhona met the king, the queen had been a lesser noblewoman living in the Capital, pregnant with a fatherless baby and scorned by polite society. Not long after, the king's wife, a princess from a southern kingdom, passed away giving birth to their fourth child. After the appropriate period of mourning, the king had decided to choose a new wife from the nobility of his own kingdom and invited eligible women to request an audience with him. Despite her disadvantages, Queen Rhona had requested an audience, and King Callum was instantly smitten. It was a romance from a bard's tale, almost impossibly perfect..except for the bastard son, who ruined the vision of "queenly purity." Damhain was cared for, but he was treated as an embarrassment, even by his own mother. He had no title, land, or money of his own, relying on the charity of the king to keep him fed. As such, he was often relegated to the guard's quarters and treated like a nuisance by his four step-brothers and two half-brothers.
