"Eira!"
The blonde child ran through the hall, hair flying behind her, as she escaped her etiquette tutor. As the only daughter of the matchmaker, Lofn, Eira was expected to follow her mother's path into the realm of peace and union. Instead, she had a rather nasty habit of running off to the queen when it was time for her etiquette lessons – or, as the queen called the time she actually spent, magic lessons.
"Eira, please! Your mother is done with this foolishness!" the tutor called after the fleeing child.
"So am I!" Eira called back, laughing as she slid around the corner and out of the tutor's sight – only to end up face-forward in the queen's skirts. "Oh! Oh, I'm so sorry, my lady."
"It is quite all right, Eira," Queen Frigga replied, smoothing a kind hand into Eira's soft blonde hair. "Is Tutor Asny giving you trouble again?"
"As with yesterday, and the day before, and so on back to the first day of lessons!" Eira said with indignation, even stamping her foot.
"Well, dear, perhaps we should work a deal with your mother – three days a week in magic lessons, three in etiquette – that should work, yes, Lofn?" Frigga turned to her own left, where the fair-haired matchmaker stood in an alcove, hidden from initial view.
"I suppose, if she's going to insist," Lofn said with mild annoyance. "But no weapon training until you're sixteen!"
"Of course, Mother," Eira said, bowing low in acquiescence. "Shall I go to etiquette lessons today, then?"
"You've already disappeared on Tutor Asny today – go ahead and have your magic lessons today. Tomorrow and the following, you will have etiquette lessons. Am I understood?" Lofn stepped forward, lifting her daughter's chin gently.
"Yes, Mother."