Daughter to Dragons- a Skyrim inspired fantasy

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

I found my place at the right hand of Mikald with ease. I was his betrothed and most trusted advisor. It was where I was meant to be. To the people looking upon us, it was a reminder of who I was. But to me, it was the perfect position to carefully watch all who passed by.

Ulfric Stormcloak was battling a fit of dementia, not even knowing who his own son was this day. And thus, it was Mikald performing his day-to-day tasks of running the realm, as it occurred often according to him.

There was no person better for it, I had concluded. He listened to each case intently, giving his people his full attention and respect as they laid their problems before him. His father had been a good leader, a great one with my father's help, but Mikald was born a leader and needed no Dragonborn to temper him.

When at last the time came to treat with the Redguard emissaries, we five retreated to a private dining hall. It was exquisitely adorned with drapes of verdant emerald and gleaming thread-of gold stitching the bear of Windhelm which stood out in contrast to the stone grey walls of the keep. A fire stood roaring in its hearth, giving light and warmth to the room. The windows lining the length of the room were uncovered to show the view of the city below and the Sea of Ghosts to the north. Just out of the corner, you could even see the meager fleet of Skyrim's navy.

Once again, I took my place at the side of Mikald as we all filed into the dining hall and took our seats at the already arrayed dining table. A young woman, the court musician, stood in the corner quietly strumming her lute as we spoke of mundane matters.

"I swear to you," one of the Redguards, Kayer, said through his laughter, "it was the biggest bear I had ever seen! It must've taken twenty bolts to bring it down. It is no wonder you Nords are so hardy if you must face such monstrous beasts on the road."

I laughed, nodding along. "They are much faster than you'd think too," I said. I lifted my arm and pulled up its sleeve and pointed to a large thick scar that was now white with age. "I nearly had this arm torn off when I was exploring a cave in the Rift. I think I scared the bear more at first, but it retaliated quickly enough."

"You were always the one to run in head first," Mikald chuckled.

With a wave of the hand, a line of servants streamed in carrying plates of sizzling, decadent food. With the perfect and practiced grace of a palace servant, each placed the plates of venison and boar and beef in unison. I stole a glance at the Redguards to catch their impressions.

One of them, Nantun, was more impressed by the bosom of the woman nearest to him. I hid my smirk behind my wine glass. Lust was always something that I could use to my advantage.

Kayer seemed impressed with the flourish of the servants work. He eyed the boar hungrily in particular. I would have to tell Mikald to serve boar more often.

The last of them I caught watching me, his expression shrouded behind a mask of stoicism. Amret was his name and he would be the hardest to crack. Though they came leaderless, all equal in rank under the Forebear Party, it was obvious he held the most respect. If we wanted to sway them towards our position, he was the one to convince. And he didn't look convinced yet.

I raised my glass to him, giving him a twisted smile. In response, he lifted his own glass in a silent toast and we both drank. Finding his vice would not be easy, but it could be done. Every man had a vice, no matter how virtuous he seemed on the surface.

For the rest of our meal, we shared stories of our adventures. They were more than pleased to speak about their victories against the Thalmor. Once when I could tell Mikald was about to breach the subject of an alliance prematurely, I cut in asking if our food was appealing enough to them.