Chapter One

The clash of steel against steel echoed through the yard, scattering the birds that nestled in the trees and bushes. Two combatants whirled about each other, swords dancing, their blades catching the afternoon sun. Chests rising and falling with each rough breath with sweat dripping down foreheads.

A pair of eyes, the same blue as the clear azure sky overhead, surveyed their opponent, watching, waiting for the man's next move. Deft fingers tightened around the worn leather hilt of the warrior's sword, ready to strike at a moment's notice. The fighter's eyes did not miss the subtle shift of the other man's hips, the slight twitch as his hands shifted on the hilt of his own sword. The sword came down on the blue-eyed fighter, who whirled at the last moment, the sword whistling past but doing no harm. With a kick at the opponent's left knee, the fighter brought the other man down. A quick upper-cut knocked the blade from the fallen man's hand.

"I yield." The guard sighed as Kayla Frey held the edge of her sword at his throat.

"Come now, Tygen, surely you can do better." Kayla laughed good naturedly, laying the tip of her sword into the hard-packed earth.

Before the guard could respond, Alyx flounced into the training yard, her hair pale blonde hair loose about her shoulders and the neckline of her dress only slightly above impropriety. Her cousin looked like a modest whore as she swayed her hips in a way that, Kayla was certain, Alyx thought seductive but actually gave the appearance of a duck waddling. She bit her lip to keep from laughing as Alyx paused in front of her, a sneer on her thin lips.

"You are never going to be ready on time. What a pity." Alyx flipped her hair over her shoulder dismissively as she took in Kayla's training clothes: a vest and a specially crafted split-skirt which allowed Kayla freedom of movement when fighting, both crafted out of leather that was supple and dull from use. Beneath the tunic she wore a white tunic of rough spun wool that itched like a bear whenever she sweat.

"What the gods are you talking about?" She asked. Kayla did not have the patience to deal with Alyx and whatever petty rivalry she thought existed between them.

Kayla could not point to the exact moment that Alyx had gone from being her bosom friend to her enemy. Perhaps it had happened when Kayla began her sword training or when the two had blossomed into womanhood and suitors began to sniff at their skirts.

Let Alyx have the boys, Kayla had thought as boys and grown men had fought for her attention while her cousin had stood by with only one or two men half-heartedly trying for her affection. The young warrior woman had no time for men or thoughts of marriage. Alyx could have them all and Kayla would gladly give them to her.

"Robb Stark, the King in the North, is nearly upon us and you are out here, playing with swords, when you should be readying yourself for his arrival." Alyx replied haughtily.

Kayla felt her heart drop. She had forgotten that one day Robb Stark would return to the Twins and claim a bride from among the women of her family. She could only pray that she escaped the young king's notice.

Long before Lord Walder Frey had forced the then Lord Robb Stark into agreeing to a marriage with one of his many female offspring, Kayla had vowed never to marry. She was to be a warrior, not a wife. It was her dream to be like the Lady Maege Mormont and her daughters, all of whom donned armor and shield and didn't give a damn about men. It was rumored that Lady Mormont was so fierce that no mortal man could stand beside her and, thus, she'd taken a bear as a lover. Kayla dreamed of being just as fierce as those women, minus the bear lover.

But now King Robb Stark had arrived to claim his bride. Kayla could only pray that she would escape his notice and be able to continue with her training and, one day, join in the battle for the Seven Kingdoms.

"Grandfather wishes us all in the Hall for the King's appraisal. Thou I doubt he will want you when you look like a farmer's wife just come out of the field. You're a mess, Kayla, all covered in dirt and sweat." Alyx voice grated on Kayla, but the young woman did not allow it to show.

Sheathing her sword she drew herself up to her full height, which was not much but still an inch more than her cousin.

"I will not be joining you in the Hall." She replied roughly. "You are welcome to the king. I will gladly sing praises to the gods on your wedding day."

"You do not have a choice in this, Kayla." The booming voice of Ser Whalen, Lord Frey's son by his fourth wife, sounded through the yard. Kayla looked up to see her father standing on the balcony that overlooked the training yard, his face hard and unreadable.

"Father, please." Kayla begged. "Do not make me do this. You know I do not care for marriage."

"It is a girl's place to marry and further her family's house. You will go to the Hall and join the other maidens of our family and, should the king choose you, you will marry him." Whalen's tone brokered no argument.

For all her wanting to be a lady knight, Kayla could not withstand the desires of her father and grandfather. Forcing herself to stand tall, Kayla marched into the manor and made her way up to her room to change as quickly as she could.


King Robb Stark sat in the center chair upon the dais that overlooked the Hall of the Twins. On his right sat Lord Walder Frey, a man that was almost to his one hundredth name day and still fathering children despite his age. To his left sat his lady mother Catelyn Stark, whose council he respected in all manners, especially now when he had to choose his queen. Beside his chair the direwolf, Grey Wind, sat alert, his eyes moving about the room as if he were on guard and searching for any danger posed to his master. Stark's dark, stoic eyes surveyed the Hall as well, and the women standing off to the side. His face impassive as he took in the choices presented to him. The Frey women were a comely lot, many with the same thin, pale blonde hair and bone-thin figures.

From his own seat, Lord Frey eyed his female offspring, his mouth set in a firm line as he glared at them all. A lot was riding on this day and Frey was not about to let his girls and their homely looks and equally plain personalities ruin this alliance for him.

Kayla tip-toed into the Hall, hiding behind the line of her cousins, siblings, and aunts until she reached her place in the lineup. The king's attention was diverted at the moment as he spoke quietly with his mother, his fingers absent-mindedly running through the direwolf's fur. She took the moment to slip in, seemingly unnoticed. Her grandfather's harsh eye caught hers, his icy glare cutting into her. Having grown up with her grandfather's disapproval, especially when she decided to pursue the path of a knight, his glare was nothing new.

Tossing her braid over her shoulder, Kayla surveyed Lord Frey's court, which had gathered in the Hall for this momentous occasion. The room was more crowded than usual as the king's court was also there, eager to see who the young Stark chose to be his queen. Amidst the crowd, Kayla caught sight of Emerella, her little sister, shyly clinging to Septa Joranna's skirts. Kayla caught her sister's eye and, as the little girl watched, crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue. Emerella's childish giggles echoed off the cold stones of the Hall. The king's attention shifted from his whispered conversation with his mother to little Emerella. A ghost of a smile pulled at his lips as he looked at the child's bright, laughing face. Kayla felt his gaze shift to her as he looked for the source of Emerella's laughter. Quickly, Kayla ducked her head, hoping to escape the king's notice. As well as the notice of her grandfather.

Even with a bent head, Kayla could feel the weight of Lord Frey's glare. She knew that later he would leave his disappointment in black and blue marks upon her skin. While he was a frail old man, Frey was not above having other men do his beating for him. Kayla wondered who would have the honor this time. Her own father? One of her uncles? A cousin perhaps? This would not be the first time that Lord Frey marked his anger on her skin.

A mutter went up amongst the crowd, but Kayla kept her eyes on the stone floor. The rushes that covered the floor were growing old and decaying beneath the feet of the court. A hand, roughly calloused by years of holding a sword, cupped her chin with a surprising gentleness and lifted Kayla's head. Blue eyes met eyes as gray as the steel and iron crown upon the king's brow.

"What is your name?" Robb Stark's voice was quiet, meant only for Kayla's ears.

"Kayla Frey, Your Grace." She responded, equally quiet.

"How would you like to be queen, Kayla Frey?" Stark's eyes searched her own. She waited until his eyes flitted over her face – taking in the gentle curve of her lips – before she chanced a quick look at her grandfather.

Walder Frey, as well as the entire gathering, watched the pair intently. He gripped the arm of his seat so tightly his knuckles were as white as the sparse hair atop his head. Kayla knew what would happen if she told Robb Stark what she truly thought of being queen.

Her gaze returned to the king standing before her. His eyes watching her intently, he had seen the look that passed between grandfather and granddaughter.

"I wish only for the answer you want to give me." He whispered, leaning close to her, his words brushing against her ear. "I don't care what Lord Frey wants, only what you want, Kayla."

Her name on his lips was like a soft caress. For the first time in her life she was in true awe of a man. He might mean what he said, and she didn't doubt that he did. But Kayla knew that she couldn't speak truly.

In truth it was her worst fear come true. Marriage scared the hell out of her. She had seen what husbands could do to their wives. The Frey men were notorious for leaving bruises upon their brides and Kayla had sworn that would never be her fate. And if she married, especially if she married the king, what would happen to her dreams of fighting and winning glory in battle? Her dream would never happen because what man wants a wife who can wield a sword better than he?

Up close, Kayla could see the lines around Robb Stark's eyes. He was only nineteen, a mere year older than her, and yet he had the eyes of a man who had seen many more years. War had made him older than his few years. Yet, despite the harshness that war had brought upon his face, there was gentleness too. As his eyes remained locked with hers, Kayla felt something akin to respect. She did not know the young king, but she felt as if no harm would come to her as long as he stood beside her. Had he not said he wanted her to do as she chose? A king, by rights, could claim his bride and not give the poor girl a choice in the matter. But not this king. He wanted the decision to be her own, to seemingly have as much a say in this marriage. Kayla had seen the esteem he showed his lady mother and knew that he would never raise a hand against her. She did not doubt that Robb Stark had ever struck a woman be she Lady or whore.

Mayhap he will allow me to continue my training, she thought. His own sister is rumored to have a sword. How can he stop his wife from using one if he does not forbid his own sister from it?

Sensing her hesitation, Robb's fingers wrapped around her own and he lifted her hand to his lips. Placing a soft kiss on the back of her hand, his eyes locked with hers.

"Will you do me the honor, Lady Kayla Frey, of being my queen?" His voice rang throughout the Hall.

Kayla could feel all the eyes on her. Alyx's eyes bore into her, the hatred coming from her stare nearly palpable. From her place behind Septa Joranna's skirts, Emerella smiled widely, revealing the gap between her front teeth. Lord Frey leaned forward, his harsh eyes on Kayla's face, daring her to say no. And the Lady Catelyn Stark looked upon her with eyes that mirrored her son's in color and gentleness, but eyes that also held a sorrow as if she could not believe her little boy old enough to be making a marriage already.

Returning her attention to the king, who still awaited her answer, Kayla drew herself up and smiled softly.

"It would be my honor to be your queen, Your Grace." She said, her voice steady and not belying the nervousness and anxiety that coursed through her body.

Robb turned her hand over and gently brushed his lips over her palm.

"You honor me, my lady." He said before stepping back and addressing the assembled court. "My lords and ladies," his voice rang out easily, "I present to you the Lady Kayla Frey, future Queen in the North."

A cheer rose up, echoing off the walls and filling the Hall with a loud roar of happiness.