Being up until early in the morning meant that Aurora woke up well past midday. Olfina had been kind enough not to wake her up in order to bother her with questions, but as soon as the Imperial opened her eyes, she saw the Nord leaning in over her. They had spoken for a few seconds when Aurora arrived from her long walk the previous night, but she had not told Olfina anything special.

Aurora was in an odd state of worry mixed with blatant nonchalance. A good night's sleep should have done her well, but the woman felt no particular difference to the previous day. It was peculiar how quickly one's life could change drastically.

"What will you do?" Olfina asked with an eager gaze.

Aurora sat up, inspecting the damage done to her dress by sleeping in it. Thankfully, it still looked rather decent. She wished to wear it on a daily basis instead of her tunic and leather trousers that had not been washed in ages. Besides, the weather had become rather warm, and she did not wish to sweat.

"I... I haven't even thought about it..." she began to answer Olfina's question, trying to wake up properly.

"Will you return to Whiterun?" Olfina asked with an even more eager expression.

"No... I don't think I'll be able to face Vilkas. Oh, Olfina, I must look like such a milkdrinker..." Aurora complained.

"You are quite right to. Giving up the Companions is a high price to pay, but a rather fair one," Olfina said and put her feet on her knees, crossing them in front of her. "Vilkas and the Companions are a package deal, Aurora. Besides, would you rather hunt bears for the rest of your life or go to Solitude with me and stay in the army?"

Within two seconds, Aurora went from sleepy to widely awake. "Are you going to Solitude?" she exclaimed.

"Well, the regular army will be stationed there. Besides, the Bard's College..." Olfina hinted, smiling from ear to ear.

"You'll move to be together with Jon?"

"And finally become independent."

Aurora smiled too as she looked at her Nord friend. She was immensely impressed with how she managed to solve all her problems on her own, without being helped by her powerful uncle. It took a lot of courage to do what Olfina was about to, the Imperial thought.

"Actually, I'm already going to Solitude," Aurora spoke.

"So it is true that you are the new Jarl?" Olfina exclaimed and clapped her hands together in excitement.

"Yes," she said before looking down and taking a long pause. "Also, the King proposed to me."

"What?" Olfina asked, this time without any tone of enthusiasm. "What did you say?"

"That I needed time," Aurora replied.

Olfina inspected her with her gaze, looking for signs in Aurora. It made her feel slightly awkward, for her semi-numb state meant that she had no idea of in what direction she should push her life. She did not wish to be accused of being thoughtless, and that meant avoiding making important decisions and informing others about them for a while. "Do you love him?" the Nord asked calmly.

"As a mentor and friend, yes, but my body does not crave him."

Olfina broke their eye contact and twisted slightly to the right. "As long as you get away from the poison that Vilkas is to you."

"Should I?" Aurora asked as calmly as Olfina had a few moments prior.

"Ulfric really respects you. For Talos's sake, he made you Officer," she said. "You are such a good person, Aurora. You would never hurt one more than necessary, and that will be used and abused by the wrong man."

"I'm not that good..." Aurora smiled, feeling embarrassed by Olfina's compliments.

"Ulfric is a good match."

"That is your advice?" Aurora asked.

"No," Olfina said and shook her head. "If you don't love him like a man, you shouldn't. I'm just saying that you should find a man who respects you as much as Ulfric does."

The Imperial nodded, having listened carefully. She was still shaken from yesterday and realised that it would take a few days before she would comprehend it properly. Meanwhile, she decided on avoiding both Vilkas and Ulfric, and that meant keeping away from both the palace and the camp.

The woman put her sandals on and walked outside. It was a beautiful, warm day, and the sun was shining. Aurora walked past a supply tent and took a loaf of bread, eating it as she proceeded towards the water. The sunlight beams reflected in the lake, forcing the woman to squint as she crossed the bridge into the city.

She strolled on the streets of the capital with her arms crossed in front of her. The woman walked slowly, deep in her own mind.

The devastation of losing Vilkas was easier to handle than not feeling secure but being with him, and even though it hurt, she felt better than she had in a long time. The war might come to end in just a few weeks time, and then she would be able to breathe out and think of what to do next – and that included coming up with a decision to Ulfric's marriage proposal.

The woman was not exactly the type that would prefer to live in a shack somewhere deep in the woods, but neither did she see herself as the head of a Hold. She grew up wishing for a house or an apartment in a town, a comfortable life and eventually a family. On the other hand, few other things had gone according to her life plan, and maybe being Queen was not too bad after all. Aurora had realised that there were many dimensions of life that she was unable to control, so in a way, the woman gave up entirely on planning matters in advance.

Ulfric had accepted Katia and he treated Aurora with respect, and that played in his favour. On the other hand, perhaps her standards were too low, Aurora thought. There should be other handsome, strong warriors out there who also were kind and interesting, it was only a question of finding them.

It was difficult to think of other men, though. At the time, it felt like she would never recover or enjoy the company of a man if he were not Vilkas. Nonetheless, she understood that people would argue that she only thought so due to her recent issues. Maybe they would be right, but it did not exactly feel like she would ever recover.

Logically, she knew that life would go on, with or without Vilkas or any other man, but it did not help her from feeling lonelier than ever. It was ironical how being loved by the wrong man could make one feel even less wanted.

She tried to imagine a life with Ulfric, even though it made her stomach turn. There would be long walks around town, hours of work to solve banal questions that might arise. There would be parties and presentations. Most of all, though, there would be the pressure of delivering an heir.

Ulfric was not the worst choice of a father to her potential children. In fact, she admired him fully and would love for her future son or daughter to possess some of his qualities. There was only that little matter, though, that even though she could imagine becoming Queen, Jarl, mother and the first lady of Skyrim, picturing herself as Ulfric's wife made her feel devastated about how her life had turned out.

Sunken deep in her own thoughts, the woman did not notice the man until he stood in front of her like a wall, blocking the sunlight. As Aurora's gaze was pinned to the ground, the first thing she noticed was that his shoes were black and polished to the extent that they might as well have served as a mirror. They had a small heel and a white detail on the top and reached beneath his ankles at the back and sides. The short moment it took her to raise her gaze to his white, woven stockings felt like it went on for minutes.

Actually, she had realised whom he was based only at his shoes, yet she could not comprehend the fact. His role in her life should have remained in far back in Morrowind. It felt bizarre when people she knew from her travels interfered with others, whose home was in Skyrim or other places that should have made it impossible for them to meet.

"I should break your neck!" he exclaimed and laughed.

"Vecheslav!" Aurora uttered in a low tone, wide-eyed.

She wanted to embrace him, but the man stood with his arms crossed. He looked thoroughly royal in his light, white tunic with long sleeves and shiny, purple vest. That was not, however, the reason to why Aurora felt that it was not his wish to greet her properly.

"You did not say farewell upon leaving," the man said and placed his arms on his hips whilst looking away with a disappointed expression.

"I'm... I'm sorry. It all happened so quickly and I followed..." Aurora began.

"I see," he interrupted her with a stern gaze before turning around, preparing to walk away.

"Wait, Vecheslav!" Aurora exclaimed and leapt towards the man, stopping a foot away from him and looked in his eyes. "I am truly sorry. The reason why I didn't send any letters to you was the war. I haven't had time to think of anything really, but you did light up my days back in Morrowind, and it would be terrible to lose you."

Vecheslav crossed his arms again and bit his lips, trying to suppress the smile that was about to break out. "You are a bad liar. How in Nirn would you be able to write me letters?" he almost giggled. "How would you address it? The fourteenth tree from the third mouldy rock?" The man laughed. Standing between Aurora and the sun made a halo form around his head, and his perfect, straight hair was caught by the wind.

He had not changed at all – not even the slightest. His narrow face with the prominent jaw was as masculine as ever. The nose, about a third of the length of his face in length and with its tip pointing horizontally, the dark and heavy eyebrows, deep eye socket – it all was the way she remembered it. Vecheslav even carried the same, green coat that was of knee-length at the back and shorter in the front she had seen him wear in Morrowind. There was a time when she had worn it directly on her naked skin and felt it itch.

There were so many memories. Vecheslav was a genuinely good person, and he had made her laugh more often than all other people together last year. The woman felt awful for disappearing under the circumstances she had, without saying farewell properly. He had been a proper friend, but she had not treated him the way he deserved, and it was mostly because of her anxiety of making Vilkas angry. Never again would she let a man come between her and her friends, the woman promised herself. One could say a few bad things of both Olfina and Vecheslav, but the fact remained that they were kind people at heart.

She looked into his dark, almost black eyes. She had told him most of what she had feared to confess in Morrowind and was looking for clues to what was going on in his head. As she left, the man had no idea that she was Dragonborn, nor had she informed him about her relationship with Ulfric. Telling him about her relationship with the Nord King felt good – Aurora thrived seeing Vecheslav's impressed gaze. Being Ulfric's mistress was nothing Aurora was particularly proud of, but it was fun that the dark haired man obviously had not suspected that she was capable of seducing a King.

His hair was perfect, as always, but Aurora's was burnt by the sun after marching across the desert. She had quite a few split ends that felt like twigs to touch. Vecheslav was vain to a certain extent, and the woman remembered how self-conscious his impeccable appearance made her feel back in Morrowind. At least her hair had been shorter then, therefore making it less noticeable.

"I've told you about my life. Now it's your turn," Aurora stated. "Why did you leave Morrowind?"

He had let his hair out, and it fell forwards as he leaned in to drink his ale. It looked silkily soft, and Aurora had to suppress her urge to reach out and touch it. It was very dark-brown, nearly black, but in the soft lights of the candles, parts appeared almost golden. His face was clean shaved, and the man's hollow cheeks formed a spectacularly strong line as he spoke. "I heard about the war and figured no nobles would have time to make trips simply because they wished to," he said and looked Aurora in the eyes, "Besides, I grew tired. I need people around me, balls, someone to have intelligent conversations with."

"You found yourself a place in the Imperial City?"

He nodded. "At first, I stayed at an inn not far from here. Then I met Bogdan and Ratibor Goldwine, the Earls of Kvatch and moved in with them in an apartment," he continued before taking another sip. "I think I'll leave soon, though."

"Why?"

"The war is practically over. Cyrodiil is no longer an Empire, and everyone will want to be at the court in Skyrim."

"You are going to Skyrim?" she exclaimed happily.

"Yes, probably," he said neutrally. "Ratibor is going, Egor, a painter, and Serge, a performer too. Even the female writers."

"You've made friends with the intelligentsia," Aurora smiled.

She was happy for him. The kind of people he mentioned must have been exactly who he had longed for in the forests of Morrowind. He was too good, to educated and too much of a dreamer to live the life of a bandit.

"Yes, and they are all planning to move as soon as the war is over and we know for sure where our presence is required," he stated.

Aurora took a sip of her ale too. Vecheslav was looking at her in silence, inspecting her face. If she had not known him, it would have felt slightly intimidating, but the woman waited for him to say something first. He had listened carefully to her telling about her adventures with Alduin and the army as well as the troublesome relationship between her, Vilkas and Ulfric. He had listened – like he always did.

"You never told me you had been the King's mistress," he said in a low tone.

"And? Would it have changed your opinion of me?" Aurora asked and shrugged her shoulders.

"I underestimated your ability. You are a social climber," he grinned.

"I never did anything of it with that intention. I am genuinely fond of the King," she defended herself.

"Naïve."

"He loves me."

"Then what are you thinking of?" he asked and almost flew up from the chair. "You will never have the same chance again! Don't you understand that Vilkas has no intentions of marrying you?"

"I can wait," she lied.

"For how long? And for what? He will grow tired of you, and by the time you are thirty you won't stand a chance with anyone respectable, not after your history," he said (once again, she would have floored any other man who said something similar, but she knew that he did not intend to patronise her). "You didn't get the one you loved, and by the time you will be over him, it will be too late. Marry someone who respects and loves you, at least have that," he continued, looking at her. "If you don't marry him you will always be just an old mistress."

"Can we... not talk about this right now?" Aurora asked and looked to her right. The window frame suddenly felt very interesting.

"Of course. Follow me," he said.

He got up from the chair and took Aurora's arm, pulling her with him. The woman saw a flashback from the first week at camp back in Morrowind – she remembered how he had pulled her with him when his bandits saw a noble on the road.

He did not drag her far, but the narrow and curved streets of the capital made it difficult to keep up with the man's pace. He dragged her through hordes of people, horses and carts. The sun was setting by then, but the sky still casted a soft light on the streets.

Vecheslav stopped in front of a beautiful house. It was six windows in width and had a magnificent front door. Sadly, Aurora did not have too much time to inspect it, as Vecheslav opened it for her, letting her into the lobby. A large, white staircase led them to the third floor, and by then, Aurora heard a dull sound of a large crowd of people talking.

"I'd like to introduce you to someone," he said before touching the doorknob.

"Where are we?" Aurora asked.

"The place where I live," Vecheslav smiled and let her in.

She entered a rather dimly lit corridor. There were people with smoking sticks everywhere, and the atmosphere seemed rather decadent, but calm. Vecheslav pushed Aurora though the crowd and into the main chamber, which was situated on the far right side of the corridor. There were books and paintings everywhere, but there was one that caught Aurora's attention in particular. It was a portrait of woman with curly, light brown hair and the most extraordinary face she had ever seen.

She did not have time to watch it for long, though, as Vecheslav gestured for her to take a few steps forwards, towards a relatively short, dark-haired man who was holding a glass of wine.

"May I introduce you to Lord Ratibor Goldwine, Earl of Kvatch," Vecheslav said. "Aurora Stormblade, former Thane of Whiterun, now Jarl of Haafingar and future Queen of Skyrim."

She inspected the man quickly. He was about half an inch taller than her with a wide, but not necessarily overweight body type. His neck was not at all thick, yet substantial. The man's hair was dark, almost black and very shiny, two inches below the chin at the front and slightly shorter at the back with a small widow's peak. It was beautifully waved and framed his face in a good way. His forehead and upper part of his face was average, with straight brows that were slightly brighter than his hair colour.

His eyes were very unusual, though. The area are above the eyelids was heavy, but did not cover the upper lid entirely. The eye colour was the same of dark wood, but slightly brighter than ordinary brown ones. The lower lid was considerably more defined, giving him a slightly drunken expression. He looked like he did not care for anything or carry any troubles at all, manipulative and calculative, but not in an evil way. Aurora did not receive any bad signals from him.

"Nice to meet you," she said and let him take her hand.

"My pleasure," he said and slowly bent forwards to kiss it.

The tip of his nose touched the back of her hand. It was about a third of his face in length, straight and forming a triangle from the side. The tip was wide and curved slightly downwards in a more masculine way, yet the base of it, where his nostrils were, was more to the narrow side. His mouth was long and his lips full for being a man, and the corners casted a shadow that was curved downwards, even though they themselves were not. The chin was rectangular but soft and divided in the middle, but his neck began too close to it. Therefore, it looked like he had a double chin, even though he was nowhere chubby enough to carry one extra.

His clothes were nothing special. Vecheslav always wore fashion conscious outfits that fitted him perfectly. The Earl of Kvatch did not seem to care quite as much. He wore a thin, black shirt beneath a dark-grey coat that must have been expensive, but not very richly decorated.

"Oh, R. Goldwine! You are a writer!" Aurora exclaimed, remembering Harrald's book.

"Yes, you've read my work?"

"No, actually, I haven't. But I've heard of you."

It felt slightly embarrassing, but the Earl quickly reassured her.

"I am not offended," he smiled.

"He is more of a playwright than an author," Vecheslav filled in. "Most of his work takes place at Herticule's theatre two streets away from here. You must have seen the building as you're from town," he continued.

The Earl of Kvatch had good features, but Aurora did not exactly find him attractive. She also noticed that he had two earrings in his right ear. Suddenly, she remembered Vecheslav's earring and looked at the man. He had made another piercing in the same ear since she last saw him.

"What are your plans now after the war, milord?" she quickly asked upon noticing that the silence had been slightly too long.

"There are rumours that Skyrim will grow into the new centre in Tamriel. If nobility and artists will flock there, I have no option but to follow this stream of interesting people," the Earl spoke.

"Hey, I heard the Khajiits are having a party at the docks, let's leave this dull and unsavoury gathering and..."

A man that looked like an exact copy of the Earl stumbled towards them but stopped as he saw Aurora. As much as Ratibor must have loved dark colours, this one adored red.

At first sight, they looked like twins, with only a few differences. This man's hair was redishly brown, slightly shorter and very messy. He had most of it to the right, creating a cone-like structure on that side – stretching from half way down to his shoulder to the height of his ear. It was curlier too, and he had cut a eyebrow-length fringe, but what caught Aurora's attention, just like with his clone, were this man's eyes.

The dark man's eyes were very special; this one's even more so. The woman did not know how to describe them else than bedchamber eyes with a hint of frog. Behind very well defined lids hid beautiful, turquoise irises and dark, glimpsing pupils. Aurora had never seen eyes like those before. Somehow, the heaviness of the area above the lids did not appear droopy, but very awake, if slightly drunken. As were his gestures.

"Umbranox!" he exclaimed without tearing his gaze from her. "Introduce us."

He had a bedchamber voice to match his eyes. Aurora observed him gingerly. His movements appeared to be drunken, and it looked like he was wearing a pyjamas. His red tunic was old and unflattering, too long, and exposing way too much chest hair.

"...And this is his younger brother, Lord Bogdan Goldwine," Vecheslav half sighed, half smiled.

"An honour," he said, put one arm on her waist and kissed the other.

Ratibor threw his brother an annoyed gaze.

"This man... is a literal genius, but he is very obnoxious," Vecheslav began.

"Thank you, thank you," Bogdan answered, playing theatrically with his hands. His right thumb and index finger was holding a smoking stick that smelled horribly.

His cheeks were fuller than his brother's, giving the illusion of a completely round face, but Bogdan lacked his brother's double chin. He looked significantly younger than Ratibor, and his nose was slightly longer, with the tip being narrower and pointing straighter. After a while, Aurora noticed that his brows were more curved and that his lips were thinner than those of his brother, and his mouth not quite as wide.

"You must excuse my brother, Lady Stormblade," he pleaded the woman before turning his gaze at the taller man. "How does a bastard like you know our future sovereign, Vecheslav?"

"In what aspect is she our future sovereign, brother?" Bogdan asked.

Once again, Ratibor threw an annoyed gaze at Vecheslav.

"The court in Skyrim will be a much more intriguing place than the one here, brother. That is why we are going there."

"Oh, I'm not so sure that I'll be any kind of sovereign, milords," Aurora interrupted. She did not wish for them to get the wrong idea, especially since she did not know how much they valued noble blood.

"How does someone like you... know someone like Vecheslav here?" Bogdan asked, waving his hand around again.

"I met him in the forests of Morrowind," Aurora answered.

"In Morrowind? What did milady do in Morrowind?" Bogdan asked and put the other arm on her waist too.

"Bogdan!" his brother hissed.

"No, it's alright, milord. A friend of Vecheslav's is a friend of mine," Aurora smiled.

"Let's not completely ruin her chances with the King, shall we?" Vecheslav spoke and released her of Bogdan's grip.

Ratibor threw a warning gaze at his younger brother and took his smoking stick before taking Aurora out to the corridor and into what looked like a study.

"He seemed to be an interesting fellow," Aurora spoke.

"Excuse him, milady," Ratibor said. "Court life does not interest him very much, and he does not hide his unwillingness to comply with the general norms."

"His sarcasm? I see," the woman stated. "Do you comply, Lord Goldwine?"

"I? Well, that is a question of timing," he laughed. "It depends on who's asking."

"Ratibor has a fondness for..." Vecheslav began and leaned forwards. "Prostitutes," he whispered.

Ratibor tried to hit Vecheslav on his shoulder, but missed and spilled wine all over Aurora's white dress.