Echoes of Ice and Iron-Chapter 74: Where Queens Are Only Women

The morning Aya sought Nana out, she did not wear a crown or her usual circlet.

It was an intentional omission, one she did not announce to anyone, not even Raina. She chose instead a simpler gown in the pale blue of House Svedana, her hair left unbound down her back in long, dark waves that caught the late winter light. The guards at the corridor doors straightened as she passed, but she waved off any escort beyond the usual discreet distance.

Today was not for court.

Today was for a dear friend.

Athax’s inner courtyard lay deep within the castle walls, a quiet square of stone and trees far removed from the noise of the outer city. The markets and merchant stalls clustered beyond the gates, down the long sloping road that led into the capital proper. Here, inside the keep’s heart, only the sound of training steel, distant footsteps, and the low murmur of servants ever reached the air.

Aya arrived early and waited near the fountain at the center of the courtyard, hands loosely clasped before her. The stillness suited her mood - contained, ordered, deceptively calm.

The inner gates opened not long after.

Nana entered from the outer passage, cloak dusted faintly from travel beyond the castle walls, speaking over her shoulder to a guard captain who had escorted her in. She dismissed him with a brief nod, then turned-

-and saw Aya waiting.

The rest of the world seemed to fall away from her expression at once.

"Aya, my own heart."

It was not a formal greeting. Not "Your Grace." Not "My Lady."

Just her name - soft, startled, and full of warmth that struck deeper than any bow or curtsy ever could. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

Aya smiled, and for a moment the weight she carried every hour of the past few days eased enough for her shoulders to lower.

"Nana."

They crossed the remaining distance quickly, and Nana did not hesitate. She embraced Aya without asking permission, arms firm and familiar, the way she had done since they were girls running through Peduviel’s halls.

Aya closed her eyes briefly and returned the embrace just as tightly.

"I should have come sooner," Nana murmured against her shoulder.

Aya pulled back slightly, studying her friend’s face. "You’ve been busy rebuilding half the South’s trade routes."

Nana grimaced. "That is no excuse."

"It is a very good excuse," Aya replied gently. "We thank you for your and Lord Garrett’s help."

Still, Nana shook her head. "After the war, everything became lists and caravans and negotiations. My husband and I divided the work, and before I realized it, weeks had passed." Her expression softened. "I missed you."

Aya’s throat tightened unexpectedly. "I missed you too."

They began walking together without needing to decide a direction first, their steps falling into an easy rhythm through the courtyard and out toward the inner town beyond the keep gates. Guards followed at a respectful distance, far enough not to intrude, close enough to satisfy duty.

For a time, they spoke of ordinary things.

The new baker near the southern market who insisted on over-sweetening everything. The group of displaced families from the borders now settled along the river. The repaired bridges and reopened trade lanes Nana had helped negotiate between former rival territories.

Aya listened, occasionally asking questions, occasionally smiling, letting Nana’s voice fill the quiet places in her mind that had grown too accustomed to strategy and silence.

At one stall, Nana paused to examine a tray of carved wooden charms. She picked one up - a small wolf - and turned it over in her fingers.

"Do you remember," she said, "when we tried to carve our own sigils and yours kept coming out looking like angry cats?"

Aya huffed a laugh she had not expected. "They were mountain wolves."

"They were absolutely cats," Nana insisted solemnly.

Aya shook her head, but the warmth of the memory lingered. It felt almost strange, remembering a time before crowns and wars and summoning powers - before people watched her every movement for signs of something more than human.

They walked on.

Eventually, Nana’s expression grew more thoughtful.

"There is something I need to tell you," she said. "Before I lose the courage."

Aya’s smile faded slightly, but she nodded. "What is it?"

Nana clasped her hands loosely in front of her. "Master Dino has completed the first set of his journals. The analyses, the observations... all of it." She met Aya’s eyes. "He believes it is time we return to Peduviel."

Aya slowed her steps.

"Oh."

The word was soft, but it carried more weight than she intended.

Nana reached out immediately, touching her arm. "Not today. Not even this week. But soon. The East must consolidate what we’ve learned. Garrett agrees, even if he pretends to argue with Master Dino every other hour."

Aya let out a slow breath. She had known this was inevitable. Alliances did not erase responsibilities to their own lands.

"I’m glad you told me now," she said quietly.

Nana searched her face. "Are you?"

Aya considered lying. Then she did not.

"No," she admitted. "But I understand."

Nana’s eyes softened. "You always do."

They turned toward the quieter garden paths along the inner wall, where fewer courtiers wandered and the roses had just begun to bloom again.

"How is Princess Silene?" Aya asked after a moment.

Nana smiled faintly. "Yes. She writes to Juno constantly. Long, dramatic letters about missing the North, the snow, and how no one in Peduviel makes spiced wine properly."

Aya laughed softly. "That sounds like her."

"She misses you too," Nana added. "More than she says aloud."

The laughter faded into something gentler. Aya looked down at the gravel path as they walked.

For a few steps, Nana said nothing.

Then, very quietly, "How are you, Aya?"

Aya glanced up. "You see me every day in council."

"I see the Queen every day," Nana corrected gently. "I’m asking about my sister."

Aya stopped walking.

The breeze stirred her loose hair around her shoulders. She clasped her hands in front of her, suddenly unsure where to begin.

"I feel... larger," she said slowly. "Since the war. Since my powers were released." She hesitated, searching for words that would not sound like fear. "As if there is more of me than there used to be. And I do not always know where it ends."

Nana did not interrupt.

"People look at me differently now," Aya continued. "Not just with respect. With expectation. With belief that I can... do anything." Her voice softened. "I am still the same person. But they no longer see only that."

Nana squeezed her hand. "And do you still see yourself?"

Aya’s answer came after a long pause. "I’m trying."

They resumed walking.

"And your husband, the King?" Nana asked lightly, though her gaze was sharp with quiet curiosity.

Aya’s mouth curved faintly. "You’ve always been subtle."

"I learned from the best," Nana replied innocently.

Aya considered her answer carefully.

"He is honest with me," she said. "More than anyone else has been since the start. But he keeps a distance."

"Because of your power?"

"Yes." Aya did not pretend otherwise. "He fears mistaking his feelings for something compelled rather than chosen."

Nana hummed softly. "And how does that make you feel?"

Aya’s gaze drifted toward the far towers of Athax. "Respected," she admitted. "And... lonely, sometimes."

Nana’s expression softened with aching understanding.

They spoke then of other things - of Garrett’s endless arguments with Master Dino, of Seth’s tireless vigilance and how he hovered near Aya during training like a restrained storm, of the strange quiet that had settled over the kingdom now that the war had ended.

Eventually, they reached a smaller gated enclosure near the rear courtyard. Two attendants stood waiting there, each holding a thick leather lead.

Aya frowned slightly. "What is this?"

Nana smiled - a slow, almost mischievous curve of her lips.

"A gift."

She nodded to the attendants.

They stepped forward, and Aya’s breath caught.

The creature that emerged was enormous - a dog, but larger than any she had seen before, its frame broad and powerful beneath a coat of dense, long fur the color of dark earth and ash. Its mane-like ruff framed its head like a living collar, and its eyes were deep-set, intelligent, and startlingly calm.

It moved with heavy, deliberate steps, each paw placing itself with quiet assurance on the stone.

When it reached Aya, it stopped.

Then, with surprising gentleness for such a massive beast, it lowered its head.

Aya’s heart tightened. "Nana..."

"He’s been raised among the eastern guard dogs," Nana explained softly. "Bred to watch, to guard, to stay until told otherwise. He will not be easily swayed by strangers. But he has been taught to recognize command - and loyalty."

The dog lifted its gaze, meeting Aya’s eyes directly. There was no fear there. Just awareness, submission, and a deep desire to please.

Aya slowly reached out a hand. The fur beneath her fingers was thick and warm, the animal leaning just slightly into the touch as if accepting her.

"He’s yours," Nana said quietly. "As a companion who will stand watch when you do not wish anyone else to."

Aya swallowed, emotion rising unexpectedly in her chest.

"You’re leaving," she said softly, the realization finally catching.

Nana stepped closer and embraced her again, fiercely this time. "I am not leaving you," she murmured. "I am simply returning home for a while. You will always have me, Aya. Always."

Aya held her tightly, then nodded against her shoulder.

When they finally pulled apart, the great dog moved to stand at Aya’s side without being told, as if the decision had already been made.

Aya rested her hand once more against its thick mane and let out a quiet breath.

For the first time since the fighting ended, she felt the presence beside her was not a guard... not a subject... not a king trying carefully to choose his place-

But something simpler.

Something that stayed because it wanted to.

And that, more than any crown or council, steadied her.