First Moon, 2281 AR

Waves lapped against the hull of the Vigilant Watch as the ship glided gently through the bay of the Mander. As the outline of the town of Dustonbury began to break above the horizon Aubrey began to feel a sense of dread. Beyond the town up the Mander was Highgarden, where he was bound. Rumors about the situation in the capitol, of the growing discord between the rival claimants for the throne of the Reach, had deeply troubled him. The Reach had done enough bleeding, and weakness would only invite their rivals to bring war to the Reach again. Oakenshield was well aware of the price of such weakness, for their ancient enemy the Ironborn were all to happy to launch opportunistic raids. Still, the young lord feared what he might find within the walls of Highgarden more than defending his island. Court politics were a sea he had not sailed, and he had no chart or compass to guide him. A misspoken word could be as damaging as a sudden squall to he who uttered it in the halls of power.

He knew he was over-thinking it, trying to anticipate what would happen. He had left his family behind on Oakenshield, at least while he felt out the situation there, but he could already hear his wife's words admonishing his racing mind. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply of the salt air. The sea always felt like home for him, and Highgarden was far from the sea breeze. Soon he would be in the court of flowers, doing his best to avoid the thorns.