Ophelia hadn’t yet become accustomed to the rhythm of her new position. There were times when she felt sure of herself, and others when she felt ever so homesick. But Ophelia was a Rainecourt, and if Julian had taught his children anything, it was to endure suffering. To find a way.

She stood now in the great hall of the palace. Her eyes traveled up the curved marble ribs of the atrium with glass windows at the top to let the sun through. The sun filtered in, making the white marble shine. It was beautiful; a beauty that would never be seen in her homeland (and that thought made her feel at least a little better).

A familiar voice drew her from her thoughts. Valeria Delaney. She had to admit, she was surprised, but pleased, to know the young woman was to follow her to Arynn Frey. To leave one’s children was a difficult thing, but Ophelia was glad she had managed it. It was a relief to have a little bit of home following her to the shores of Arynn Frey.

“Lady Delaney,” Ophelia greeted her with a warm smile, “How perfectly lovely to see you again. I do hope you’ve settled in?” Valeria had been set up with a private apartment close enough to the palace that she would be able to come to Ophelia’s side at a moment’s notice.

Ophelia felt a weight — or at least, a fraction of that she was carrying — had been lifted. “I’m every so glad,” She turned back to the great hall, scanning its columns as she had been before.

“Isn’t it magnificent?”

Ophelia smiled. While Nevermere would always be her home, Arynn Frey had a kind of beauty that Nevermere couldn’t touch. It was sleek, astonishing in its craftsmanship, and by comparison made her home kingdom seem roughly hewn and somewhat crude. It was moments like this she was grateful to be here in a distant land.

“This is to be a new era for Arynn Frey. For Nevermere as well,” Ophelia said, turning to her companion, “I’d like to usher it in with something special. A tea ceremony for the ladies of our two kingdoms. Perhaps Lorendale as well.”

Ophelia was pleased. This was the sort of environment where she shined brightest. Her eyes scanned the room, envisioning what it might look like. This was an opportunity to show the finery of Arynn Frey, to demonstrate Nevermere’s power as having a presence here as well. For despite her presence Arynn Frey, Ophelia was still a Nevermerean by birth.

“We should take care to curate a guest list,” Ophelia said, “One that will provide lively conversation without unnecessary conflict.” She smirked, looking at Valeria playfully, “I’ve found that problems are best solved over a fine cup of tea.”

Ophelia giggled. She hadn’t meant tea now, of course, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t take any. The queen shook her head affectionately and offered her arm to Valeria so that they might walk about the room together as they waited for the tea, like they’d been childhood friends.

“Who is it we should invite? Nevermere’s court has not been home to me for some time—I wonder what ladies have risen to prominence there?” It was a question for Valeria, Nevermean that she was.

Ophelia was well pleased. The Chaudhari family was not as unknown to her, though mostly by reputation. The Bashar family was more familiar, though also in name only, and she was rather surprised—though not unpleasantly—to hear it. “The Bashar,” Ophelia said excitedly, “Oh, I should like to meet them. I haven’t yet had the pleasure. And the Chaudhari, what a mysterious lot they are.”

Ophelia wasn’t above a little courtly gossip.

The Chaudhari. An honor. Ophelia giggled at that, pulling Valeria a touch closer. “Between you and me,” the now queen said with girlish excitement, “They are a scandalous bunch. Some say that they…” Ophelia’s cheeks turned pink, “Seek pleasure as a means to maintain their power. If you can imagine…”

She smirked at Valeria.