Messenger.

The hooves of her horse beat the rhythm of the cold, hard ground into her head.

Thump thump. Thump thump.

She's chilled to the bone and her normally warm overcoat is doing nothing to fight off the wind. Her hands hurt from climbing, the often clean pads of her fingers marred with rock and dirt. And. There's a small, soft bag in her pocket that feels like a hundred heavy stones weighing her down, even though it's only several small paper messages. Small but undoubtedly important.

Why did Saimon drag her here and force her up the stone walls to see her Mother? Oh, her dear brother, so infuriating, and yet her only real connection to her heritage. But, why couldn't he face this alone? She feels so old and tired already at thirteen while still feeling so entirely lost and young and not at all prepared for what's expected of her.

What is expected of her?

She's so torn. Her family, and the family she's been brought into. As a Ward, yes. A prisoner for all intents and purposes. But still. Mog and Tog, Quinn, even the old man Chester... there's a fondness there, isn't there? Are these letters, the ones safe in her pocket, a betrayal? And if they are, would it be a bigger betrayal to not deliver them?

Is this a test? Her test? To see if she's capable of being loyal to the Glencairn's? There's still so much undecided... and no one to talk to. Certainly not her drunkard brother who can barely balance on his horse, not any of her brothers... no, not brothers... guards, keepers, and watchmen. She could go to Pwyll, but his mouth is always so close to Chester's ear.

She has to be strong. No matter how difficult.

But why is it so hard?