"Frankly, Mother, this is terrifying and I don't want to be a part of this," Alex hisses, glancing outside at the carriage stopping in the ring of their driveway. The door opens and she looks away sharply, walking away from the window so as to not see her fiancée. "Mother-"

Eliza puts a soothing hand on her daughters bare wrist. "Alexandra, neither of you can have children and this is a modern time. Your brother, Winslow, is perfectly capable of inheriting both estates, should the Lady Astra instead wish to enfold Danvers with Inze rather than pass it onto her niece's kin."

"That's not what I'm worried about, Mother. I have never met the Lady Astra and I know she is not happy about being married off by her father."

"Milady, Miss Alexandra," their butler interrupts, "the guests have been received by the men of the house. Lord Danvers wishes you both downstairs, now."

Alex swallows as she meets Jon's eyes, the man offering a supportive, yet baleful look. He has been around all her life, cared to her many injuries from running around the estate and bare-armed fencing she still partakes in, now.

"We'll be along, thank-you, Mr Jones," Eliza nods, before taking Alex's arm and patting her shoulder. "Come, darling, it will not be so bad. After all, the wedding is not until next month. You have plenty of time to get to know each other in person, rather than through letters."

As Eliza leads her from the room, Alex mumbles, "That's what I'm afraid of."

Upon greeting Lord Danvers – or Jeremiah, as he would have Astra call him – Astra deduced that the man was a kind, old soul, much like her handmaiden, Megan. He invites her into a sitting room, asking whether she'd like her footmen lodged in the servants quarters or the stable, accepting her answer of servants quarters with grace, ordering his butler to both summon his wife and daughter, as well as inform the household staff of the arrangements.

Sitting down on the beautifully embroidered chaise lounge offered, Astra briefly looks out the large glass windows, the sea outside a blue haven of unknown.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" a young voice startles her and Astra pinpoints a young teenage boy half-hidden behind a curtain on a window bench, fountain pen in hand, ink staining his fingers as he shuts what must be a journal. "My friend James likes to paint it. He- he knows your niece, Kara. Kara's written to me before. She says that the Elliot and Inze Estates are in the desert, that everything is sandy and brown in the South."

"James…Kara's betrothed," Astra remembers, nodding a little. "You are Winslow."

He shrugs, far more timid than she would have thought for an heir of one of the wealthiest estates in the North, second only to the Grant's.

"I prefer Winn, if that's okay, milady."

"We are to be brother and sister by law, Winn. Please, call me Astra," she says, watching him a little longer before coming over, sitting on the other side of the bench, thankful that in National Country, the summer was warm enough that it could be mistaken for a Kryptonian winter. Arranging her thin silk skirt appropriately, she nods to his book. "What were you writing?"

"Uh…mathematical equations. In National North dialect," he opens the book up and Astra looks in, only vaguely able to interpret the sums past the numerical – and often alphabetical – indicators. "I get bored, sometimes. My mind is quick to bore. Father says he is like that, but I don't believe him."

Jeremiah laughs a little, Astra glancing over at the man as he shakes his head. "I've learnt the meditative techniques that the late Lady Orla taught both I and your sister."

"Lady Orla?" Astra inquires.

"Susie's mother," Winn says, before Jeremiah elaborates with a sad smile.

"Lady Orla Schott, nee Vasquez. Her children became my wards, after both she and Lord Schott's deaths." Jeremiah nods to Winn, who twists his head away from Astra to look outside. "Winn doesn't remember her and prefers to be known as a Danvers. As my heir, I suppose quite rightly so, he should."

"Oh," Astra thinks a little on that, wondering if Kara would ever do that. I think not, though. General Lane is quite against Lucy's marriage to Alura, given that Lady Lois has deigned to take the Luthor name. Lucy would most likely not allow Kara to do such a thing. Perhaps Kara might prefer to become an Inze, however. Astra is taken from her thoughts as the doors to the living room are opened, the butler introducing the Lady Eliza and Lady Alexandra.

Standing quickly, Astra's eyes briefly widen at the sight of her fiancée, brown-red curls tumbling from her head, light blue shirt so very strange to Alura, with its shorter arms and buttons, tucking into grey trousers. Her eyes are brown. Beautiful.

Alexandra flushes and by the reaction from the other occupants of the room – the butler coughing sharply, Jeremiah grinning and the Lady Eliza's eyebrows flying upwards – Astra must have said that aloud. Slightly mortified, becoming far more embarrassed as Winn audibly snickers, she steps forwards, holding out her hand in the customary Northern greeting. Alexandra takes her hand, shaking it gently before bringing it up, twisting it gently and pressing her lips to her knuckles, bowing slightly.

"My lady," she mutters and Astra is shaken, feeling far more vulnerable than she would ever have thought she'd be. "I hope your journey from Krypton was pleasant."

"No, it was not pleasant, unfortunately," Astra replies honestly, slowly taking back her hands. "Much of the borderlands see much traffic and the roads see as much wear and tear."

At that, Alex scowls for the first time and it still obscenely attractive. "The borderlands fall under Duke Lord's purview, don't they, Father? How many times must you order him to get his head out of his inventions lab and take some damn responsibility?"

"Language, Alexandra," the Lady Eliza chastises, "and be respectful of Duke Lord. He might be lazy in regards to his estate, but National Country benefits much from his mind."

Alex remains scowling, however and Astra wonders if this is one such example of why Alex dislikes her mother – her letters were long and rambling at times, most of the longer editions dedicating four whole paragraphs to the 'demon-like tyrant' that is Lady Eliza Danvers. She did quite contradict Alexandra, Astra thinks cautiously, and if this Duke Lord does not take his responsibilities seriously, they should be taken from him and awarded to another more capable.

"If I may," Astra starts, "Alexandra, in your letters, you promised to introduce me to beaches. If my handmaiden were to chaperone, perhaps such a tour could be arranged shortly?"

Alex's scowl clears slightly and she looks to her father, who nods considerately.

"Yes, of course. Susie is down there, practicing swordsmanship skills with Master Carter."

"Carter's still here?" Alex questions, eyebrow rising. "I thought he would have gone home, by now."

"Cat arranged a week-long visit, before returns to the nearest Grant Manse to have his suit measured," Jeremiah replies, the names clicking in Astra's head shortly.

"Carter Grant?"

"The very same," Jeremiah smiles fondly. "He's very young, barely four, but he's had his fair share of visits here. Alex and Cat were thick as thieves as children – they were born within three days of each other, even."

Astra looks to Alex, "You never mentioned any of this."

Her fiancée shrugs awkwardly. "I must have said something, before. Maybe you've forgotten." Astra narrows her eyes, going to retort before Alex slips from her mother's grasp, taking Astra's hand. "Beaches. Come on."

"Megan-" Astra starts as Alex begins to pull her out of the room, her handmaiden watching them with amusement, following them with a smirk. Astra sends her a slightly betrayed look before sighing and letting her fiancée lead her from the Danvers' home.

I hope these beaches are as lovely as Alex says they are.

(They are, but Alexandra is finer.)