We emerged from the August bathhouse an hour later. The warm waters of Yeles had scoured more than the filth from my body. I felt lighter, both mentally and physically. Even the ache of the scar that ran through my eye had seemingly dissipated. It was still there, ever present at the back of my mind, but the sharp edge of pain that usually struck me on occasion was dulled to nearly nothing.

I mentioned this to my giant mentor as we dressed to leave and the old man laughed, his newly cleaned bead quivering, “Old Yelesi magic, lad. Don't ask me why, but a bath in the springs of Yeles take away all manner of troubles. My back still ain't a hundred percent from Hammond's little punch, but now I feel like I could lift an ox!”

Looking at the way he hopped from foot to foot, displaying a dexterity that should have been impossible for a man his size, I almost believed him.

The promised clothes were awaiting us in the changing area just inside the entrance, my old rags having vanished. Considering the smell that permeated off of them, I didn't doubt someone had rightly decided to burn them. I couldn't say I minded the loss. I threw on the warm, brown tunic and black breeches I had been gifted, enjoying the feel of clean clothing against even cleaner skin. The garb was simple, but definitely well-made, much in keeping with Lencel himself. I learned that the armour he wore to the gates to meet us wasn't something he typically felt the need to wear, the set being a gift from his mother that he had decided to throw on to make a good impression on our company. I couldn't help but shake my head at him after he said that. There was no doubt in my mind that he had someone he wanted to impress, but I didn't for one second believe that it was anyone but Vera.

I tied my hair back firmly with the piece of Elora's wedding dress, making sure it was securely tied. I'd spent more time cleaning the fabric than I had myself and its brilliant colour had returned once more. It meant a lot to me, small though it was. I liked to keep it close.

Our group emerged soon after, Alden and Deirdric similarly dressed to Lencel and I, though the scion of August's clothes looked a little small on the tall Ragoran scholar. Boldrin hadn't the luxury of new clothing, but he did manage to extract a crumpled and only partially stained tunic from his saddle bags. The thing was so big I could probably use it as a tent.

Relaxed and feeling a little lighter, we consigned ourselves to waiting for the girls. I wasn't in any rush to reach dinner, not without Elora and Tess beside me at least. The former because she knew what to do in situations that required tact, something that I lacked in spades. The latter because at least I would have someone to laugh with when everything inevitably went to shit and I forgot how to use the right spoon or tried to drink something I was meant to eat.

I didn't really know much about fine dining, so to speak. I'd had some good grub in the palace, but then it had always been by myself. Elora had eaten with Cellus each night, or so I assumed at the time, and Beatrice would often go down to the Commons to have dinner with her own family. It had made me rather melancholic, I realised. I'd never really eaten by myself before then. I'd always been surrounded by the Sister and my family, or the Brigade.

“I'm looking forward to this dinner now,” Boldrin told the rest of us as he stretched, pushing his already straining tunic to the limits of what it was capable of, “I hope they have goat. Spirit, I love that shit.”

“I believe it's duck tonight, sir Boldrin,” Lencel replied politely as he sorted his hair, “Though our chef does do a roast every seventh day. Goat was served only a few weeks ago. It was delicious.”

“You eat goats in Yeles?” I asked curiously. It wasn't exactly a staple of the Venosian diet. I'd eaten it once before, but that had been in Myrin and, as I recalled, it was all the butcher had that Pater and I'd been able to afford.

“They'll be serving some at the Festival of Chivalry, Count Orin,” Lencel replied excitedly, “Goat leg soaked in garlic oil is a particular favourite of mine.”

“You know, you can just call me Orin, Lencel,” I said, “I've only been a Count for a while. Don't think I'll be used to hearing it anytime soon.”

The young swordsman's answering grin was enthusiastic, “Thank you, Orin. Honestly, I'm constantly afraid of tripping over myself with all the titles. We don't really have that kind of thing in the Republic.”

“Much better to be without them if you ask me!” Boldrin chortled.

“Course you'd say that, boss. You're from here.” I rolled my eye at the large man, “Can't say I disagree with you, though. The system in Venos is fucked.”

“Titles don't mean much in Ragora,” Deirdric cut in then, his expression ponderous, “I myself am the son of a Lord and so am entitled to be marked as the same. It is prestigious, true, but ceremonial in nature. Even the High Lord is little more than a figurehead. He demands a great deal of respect and his voice is listened to by our head of state, but the First Minister is in no way obligated to follow what he advises. Alden, for instance, would have been named a commoner in Venos and yet his status places him higher than some Lords in Ragora, at least socially.”

I looked to the Ragoran warrior with a raised brow and he nodded, “I was born and raised on the streets of Nian. My mother worked three jobs to keep us fed, but it was a good life.”

My estimations of the man grew in that moment. I had assumed he was a Lord in much the same way that Deirdric was, but it appears I was wrong. I found myself looking forward to seeing Ragora more and more. If nothing else, it might show me a system of government that allowed the Nobility and common folk to co-exist as equals. If I was one day to be King of a country, I'd need to at least make the effort towards realising that future.

Look at me. I could barely fucking bow without tripping over myself but I was already planning my stint as a monarch. Maybe it was Elora's love of our homeland rubbing off on me?

Speaking of, the ladies took that moment to emerge from their side of the bathhouse. The first was Vera and what an unexpected sight it was.

“Hello boys,” The First Knight said with a smirk, “Don't you all look dapper.”

Lencel immediately choked, the words he had been about to say to Alden cut short as his face turned the colour of blood and his bright, blue eyes very nearly popped out of his skull.

Honestly, I could kinda understand the reaction.

For one, Vera was wearing a dress. Elaborate, revealing and dipping low at the neck. Red and gold, it added a regal, womanly air to the First Knight that I had never seen before. Her hair was also loose and the white locks fell about her shoulders delicately. The way her eyes immediately fixed to Lencel made me want to roll mine. I may need to speak to her about that. Couldn't have her kill our young friend before his time by playing with his emotions too much.

“Y-You look beautiful, Lady Vera,” Lencel stuttered, barely managing to get the words out.

“Thank you, Lencel. Your sisters were very accommodating.”

“Indeed. Thank you again, Sara, May. I finally feel like myself.” Annabelle spoke behind her as she appeared behind her sister. The ice to Vera's fire in a dress of blue and silver, the First Smith of Venos all but gleamed with her hair severely tied behind her head. An aura of cold grace clouded her, exuding power and untouchable beauty. I once again pondered how two sisters who looked so similar could be so different in personality.

Poetically enough, the next to reveal themselves were the twins of August. Both Sara and May looked just as beautiful as the First Knight and Smith, their outfits matching, but I could already tell which was which by the expressions on their faces. The elder of the two glaring daggers at the younger.

“There is no need for thanks, Lady Annabelle,” Sara said with a smile, though her furious gaze was still fixed on her depressed looking sister, “It was the least we could do.”

May mumbled something under her breath as her sister grabbed her arm and led the moping lady over to me, “Say it, May!”

The woman mumbled again, her eyes fixed to the soft stone of the floor.

“I swear to the Spirit, May, I will tell mother.” Sara growled and this threat finally pulled a meaningful reaction from the younger twin, who let loose a frustrated sigh.

“I am sorry that I tried to look at you while you were naked,” May dead-panned, clearly not meaning a fucking word of it, “I will not do it again. You are a guest in our home and should be treated as such. There, you happy now?”

“Not by half,” Sara's smile was so caustic it nearly caused me to melt, “But it'll do. Please, forgive my sister, Count Orin. She can be a handful at times and stories of your prowess have filled her head.”

“Just wanted to see some scars,” May muttered, playing with the frills of her dress, “Don't see what the big deal is.”

“There's no need for all that,” I said awkwardly, touching my scar self-consciously, “Many people are curious about my injuries. Though this is probably the first time someone I've never met before has wanted to see them. Believe me, you're not missing much. They aren't all that impressive.”

May perked up immediately, “So you won't mind showing me then?”

“No.” The single word caused May's joyous expression to freeze and her dark skin to pale, “I don't think so.”

I couldn't help but grin at Tessa, whose steely eyes were firmly fixed on the back of the young woman's head. She was the only person I'd ever met who seemed consistently capable of making someone quiver with a stare, a skill which she was showcasing now to great effect. May trotted back to her sister's side, hiding behind her without looking in the direction of my savage Smith. Tessa walked up to me, protectively placing herself between me and May.

“Looking refreshed, Tess,” I smiled, taking in my mercenary's outfit, “Terrorizing the locals?”

My Smith was dressed in the tunic and breeches promised by Lencel, the outfit a dark green in colour. Her auburn hair was still damp from the bath and hung about her face wildly. It looked a little shorter than before, she must have taken a dagger to it while soaking. She seemed a lot better, a little of the tiredness around her eyes having faded away.

“She needs to learn to mind her own business.” Tessa replied firmly.

“Tessa! We're guests!”

My heart leapt up to take permanent residence in my throat as my wife finally made an appearance. Elora came skittering out of the doorway, panic on her face as she spoke to her Sister-Smith. My Princess was dressed in a simple dress of some dark orange silk that turned a blinding yellow at the hem. Her blonde hair, immaculately styled, fell down her back in a river of gold as honey-coloured eyes fixed themselves on me.

I couldn't help but look, my eye dropping to take in the way the dress clung to her. The sight making my heart pound within my chest. I couldn't help but think Lencel and I were probably wearing matching reactions at that moment. I swallowed through a dry throat and managed to drag my eyes upwards to look into hers, only to find her staring at my chest.

I hadn't done up the lace at my neck, the tip of the scar given to me by Prince Maric barely visible. Elora's eyes were fixed to it, her face turning redder by the moment as a shy smile rose on cherry red lips. She walked over to me demurely, her hand finding a home in mine as she pressed herself to my side.

“You clean up well, my Knight,” Elora whispered to me.

“As do you, Princess,” I said back, just as quietly. The rest of our group began to walk ahead with Lencel and his sisters in front. Elora and I kept to the back, walking hand in hand as the others pulled ahead of us, “But then, you could wear sackcloth and still be the most beautiful woman in the room.”

“Charmer,” Elora chuckled, a curious hand rising up to touch the band of white that held my long hair at bay, “Is that the piece of my wedding dress? I noticed you wearing it into the city.”

“It is,” I replied sheepishly, an unstoppable grin forming on my lips, “I like to keep you close.”

“What a coincidence,” Elora said before leaning in to whisper into my ear, her breath tickling my throat, “I like to keep you close as well.”

I stumbled, the image of a band of black strapped around a pale thigh filling my vision and causing my brain to nearly melt. Elora laughed, her fingers touching my silver scar and feeling like fire against my bare skin.

“Soon, my love, very soon,” The Princess of Venos murmured before releasing my hand and leaving me behind as she made her way up the line to join Vera and Annabelle.

What a woman. When had she gotten so good at that? I still remembered the Princess from the palace who I'd thought was having a seizure when she tried to bat her eyelashes at me. I recalled that time fondly, Elora's inexperience all the more adorable the more I thought on it. Now, though, it was like every time she started to flirt with me my tongue grew thick and it was all I could do to keep my hands to myself.

“Elora stopped me from breaking her neck.” I could always count on my Tessa to bring me back down to Ouros again. I chuckled and looked to the mercenary, who had taken Elora's place beside me.

“Well, there's always next time,” I joked, nudging her elbow with my own.

Tessa smirked at that, but her smile quickly gave way to a troubled frown, “I don't like people treating you like a circus animal from Andapa. Hearing you be called the Scarred Knight is hard enough without people trying poke and prod at you like a freak on display.”

I touched her hand, making her freeze, “Give May a break. She just wanted to see if all the stories she heard were true. I agree that it was a shitty thing to pull, but there was nothing nefarious in it.”

“That's almost worse,” Tessa said by way of reply, “I was there when you were recovering from the wounds on your back, Orin. Barely breathing... blood everywhere. No one has the right to gawk at you.”

My mercenary's eyes flashed with pain and a deep fury that threatened to swallow her entirely. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and pulled her into a sideways hug, my touch causing some of the tension in her body to be released, “I wish I could go back to that moment. I wish I could remember you being there.”

“So do I,” Tessa muttered to herself, hands fidgeting, “But shit happens.”

“Aye, it does that,” I nodded grimly as I secured my grip, “But I'm glad you're my Smith, Tess. You know that, right?”

“Don't get all fucking sappy on me, Orin,” Tessa rolled her, “You sound like you're dying.”

“Not yet,” I chuckled, “Haven't found the bastard strong enough to put me in the ground.”

“Samuel might,” Tessa sneered into the open air, spitting the name out like it was poison, “While we're here playing Noble, he gets closer by the second.”

“Fuck Samuel,” I grinned ferociously, a blood thirsty urge to destroy rising within me, “If he comes, I'll kill him and every other fucker they send to hurt us. They'll all die, even if I have to rip their throats out with my teeth. Won't let anyone near you or Elora.”

Tessa trembled, a shiver of anticipation running through her as she returned my grin, “You are very hard to kill. Kinda like a cockroach.”

“A very stubborn cockroach,” I insisted, nodding firmly before frowning, “Wait. That wasn't a compliment, was it?”

“No, it's a compliment. A back-handed one, but still.” Tessa laughed and I shoved her away playfully, chuckling all the while.

“Listen, we're here for a day,” I said, “Let's try to enjoy it. Literally nothing we can do about it now. Let's go to this Festival, fuck up some entitled brats and have some good grub while we're at it. Shit, it sounds pretty good now that I'm talking about it.”

We walked in silence as we followed the August brood through the cosy halls of their homes. There was no art on the walls, no tapestries dedicated to past glories or paintings of those who had long since gone to their graves. No, the beauty of the August villa was in the open, balcony like windows that looked over the sprawling estate. The sun had descended over the horizon, but a series of lamps had been lit outside which set the world outside the home dancing with shadows that made their way between the buildings that lay beyond. The warm stone beneath my feet and quiet that permeated this place really was a balm for my soul. I found myself smiling as I caught sight of workers heading for a well-lit tavern on the grounds of the estate, laughing amongst themselves as they did so. The sheer comfort that Yelmora seemed to exude was beyond what I expected and a world away from the cold, dank streets of Venos. I had yet to see the city proper, of course, so my impression could change in time. But, for the moment, I was glad that we were delayed here of all places.

Lencel and the girls led us into a large room on the first floor of the estate. A sprawling and well lit hall dominated by an incredibly well-crafted oak table that took up much of the centre. At a push, it could probably seat near thirty people. Calliston and his wife, Reanin, looked up and smiled as we arrived, rising from their chairs to greet us. The third member of their trio was a young looking lad of about Elora's age. He sported straw like hair and his dark eyes stared glumly at the plate in front of him. He looked like he'd rather be anywhere else at that moment.

“Princess Elora!” Calliston greeted with a mighty smile, clapping the young man beside him on the shoulder as though to pull him from his misery, which went completely ignored by the youth, “I hope the bathhouse was to your liking?”

“It was, Calliston,” Elora replied brightly, curtseying first to the Senator and then to Reanin, “It feels incredible to be clean again.”

“Rig! On your feet before the Princess!” Lencel said between gritted teeth as he glared at the sullen young man sitting beside Calliston.

Rig matched Lencel's stare with one of his own before huffing and dragging himself to his feet, muttering under his breath the whole time.

“It's alright, Lencel,” Elora said politely, cutting off the Senator's son before he could berate the young man, “Your Smith is quite right. I don't expect everyone to bow to me when I walk into a room.”

“Thank you, your Highness,” Calliston said before the young Knight and Smith could, “Allow me to apologise for Rig. He is a great Smith and partner for my son, though his manners leave a lot to be desired.”

I pulled a chair out for my Princess and she smiled at me thankfully before taking a seat, smoothing her dress as she did so. After a little bit of jostling, I also did the same for Tess. Not because I thought she needed it, nor did I do it for propriety's sake like with Elora. No, I just did it to wind her up.

We almost came to blows as we both struggled for the chair, the grin on my face the opposite of her near crippling sneer. Eventually, with a pointed stare from my wife, Tess gave in and watched, devastated, as I wiped the seat with a hand before offering it to her smugly.

I noticed that Lencel pulled out the seat for Vera, blushing all the while as he sneaked glances at the First Knight. Boldrin did the same for Annabelle, winking at the Lady and drawing a roll of the eyes for his troubles.

“Thank you for having us again, Calliston,” The First Smith said as the rest of us took our seats, “We are most grateful for having a place to stay considering our circumstances.”

“Please, Lady Annabelle. Once again thanks are not needed,” Calliston said with a firm smile, “It is my fault that you missed the ferry. This is the least I can do. You will enjoy the Festival tomorrow, of that I have no doubt. Lencel has already been challenged by several of the city's best and brightest. I know he will emerge triumphant.”

Lencel flushed with pride and sat a little straighter in his seat, “I will, father. None who dared to throw down the gauntlet are my match.”

“Does that happen often? Challenges issued before the day of the Festival?” Vera asked Lencel, beaming at the young man and causing his tongue to falter.

“Not for most, but little Lencel is the talk of Yelmora since he beat Senator Victa's son in single combat,” May jumped in, grinning proudly at her brother, “Lencel is unbeaten in near twenty duels now. He's the pride of Frankel's school.”

“He is that, but he should rest more often,” Reanin said compassionately, leaning over to pat her son's hand, “You push yourself too hard, son.”

“I'm fine, mother. A warrior must push himself if he wants to be the best.” The look of sincerity on Lencel's face convinced even me. He may be short on real experience, but his attitude towards mastery couldn't be faulted.

“Oh joy,” murmured Rig, who played idly with his silverware, “We get to fight a bunch of idiots.”

I examined Lencel's Smith more closely. Like most who held the power to Bond, Rig didn't have the appearance of a warrior. In many ways he reminded me of Pater, though he lacked my brother's lean muscle that came from years of stalking Myrin's streets. His general appearance wasn't exactly in keeping with everyone else, but the sharp look to his eye betrayed his intelligence. He periodically glared at everyone from between strands of his bright yellow hair.

“I take it you don't like the Festival, Rig?” Elora asked politely.

The young man was saved from answering due to the arrival of the August servants, garbed in red uniforms and smiling brightly as they moved among us, each of them carrying a steaming bowl of soup in one hand and small baskets of bread in the other. The smell alone set my mouth to watering.

“Ah,” Calliston grinned as he turned to Tess, “After mentioning the broth to Count Orin, I couldn't get it out of my head. So I told the chef to make it our first course. Believe me, you will not be disappointed, though it is admittedly simple fare.”

“Nonsense, Senator,” Elora answered for us, her smile just as bright, “After many days of travel on meagre rations, this is perfect.”

“Of course, the joys of travelling. I can't say I miss it much,” Calliston replied, though the wistful look in his eyes said otherwise.

As soon as the table was laden with bowls, I set to tucking in, just at that moment realising how hungry I truly was. I also risked a sip of the wine that was poured into my glass. I usually couldn't stand the stuff, but it was actually quite nice, refreshing. Calliston told us all that it had been taken from his very own vineyard on the banks of the River Sind. He seemed to be quite proud of that fact.

Small conversations began to break out around the table as a natural sense of comfort sank in. Honestly, I hadn't felt this good in days. The bath alone would have been worth the trouble of staying in my opinion. I realised that I should probably be more worried. We had a near unstoppable Knight of the Hall after us, one which scared even Vera. Not to mention the Mentor and whatever plans he and his dog, Zelato, were concocting.

But I just couldn't find it in me to care, not in that instant. I was sitting with my Smiths, eating good food and listening as those around me talked about menial subjects, with no mention of death or destruction. It felt nice to just take a moment. To pause and enjoy what I had without worrying about one day losing it.

Elora slipped her hand into mine under the table and I turned to my wife with a smile, one which was joyfully returned. I could tell she thought the same. She didn't say it with words, but the gentle squeeze of her fingers said volumes.

I found myself glancing around at the others. Even Alden seemed to be enjoying himself as he exchanged small talk with Deirdric and Annabelle. Boldrin and Tess spoke to no one, clearly just enjoying their meals. I grinned as I watched my usually so savage Smith as she sipped at her broth, her eyes closing on every bite as though to savour the taste. She caught me staring before long and kicked my under the table, though it was playful as she smirked.

“Was he causing you trouble again?” Lencel's words drifted over to me and I turned to face the young swordsman, who was speaking with the Smith at beside him.

“You don't need to worry about me, Len,” Rig insisted, “I've got it handled. Besides, he's all brawn and no brain. I can deal with Berthold.”

“That's exactly what I'm worried about,” Lencel replied grimly, “You know what he's like. He attacks and asks for forgiveness later. You should just stay away from him for a while.”

“Not if it means staying away from Kidis,” Rig insisted, his eyes flickering over to Vera, “I know you understand that.”

Lencel sighed as he glanced to the First Knight, who was talking with Annabelle and the others. “Yeah, I get it. But still, Rig, Berthold isn't someone we can easily deal with.”

“You two talking about Berthold?” May August asked with a grin as she pinned the two young men with excited eyes, “Did Rig try and propose to Kidis again?”

The Smith blushed, “I-I didn't propose. I've never proposed. I just wanted to talk with her. Berthold kept telling me to shove off.”

“Oh, this is good,” May bounced in her chair as she turned to Elora, “In case you didn't know, Princess, Berthold Gaius is the son of father's biggest competition for his Senatorial seat. Our families have been at odds for decades.”

“That's a rather strong way of putting it, May,” Calliston interrupted, wine glass in hand, “Mr Gaius and I merely see certain issues differently. I hold a tremendous amount of respect for the man.”

May waved away her father's objections, almost as though she was afraid he'd ruin her story,

“Anyway, young Rig has a crush on Kidis, the youngest daughter of the Gaius family and Smith to her brother Berthold.”

“I-I don't have a crush!” The young man looked like he was being literally crushed by the embarrassment of the moment, sinking further and further into his chair by the second, “I just wanted to say hi to her. I've known her for years.”

At my quizzical glance, Lencel filled in the blanks for me, “Here in the Republic, young Smiths are sent to schools to learn their arts instead of being taught by family members. Rig and Kidis were in the same class.”

“Ah, a possessive brother keeping you from the woman you love?” Elora said with a small smile, “You have no need to feel embarrassed, Rig.”

“Thanks, Princess,” Rig sighed, his suffering acutely obvious, “But all do respect, I doubt any of you would understand.”

“I wouldn't be too sure, lad,” Boldrin gave his two copper, beard slick with stew and bread chunks as he spoke, “There ain't no problem under the sun that someone else ain't faced before. That includes matters of love.”

Rig didn't look convinced, “To answer your question, Highness: No, I hate the Festival. It's just an excuse for everyone to come together and smash each other on the head with swords for the sake of honour. All of them hoping to impress one of the ladies in attendance.”

“So that's the issue,” Annabelle said as she finished the last of her wine, “Do you think that one of those attending will draw Kidis' eye?”

Rig flushed as he stared at his untouched bowl, “I never said that.”

For some reason, I was becoming invested in this story. It was just so laughably normal. A young man who couldn't be with the woman he loved because of an overbearing brother. No death, no pain, no burning. Just some trivial shit that consumes the heart of every young man.

There I go pretending I'm older than I actually am again. I felt it all the more when around Lencel and Rig. They were both of an age with me, yet I felt like I was their senior in many ways. Shit, even the Ladies of August seemed younger to my mind. Maybe it was just a result of seeing the things I'd seen. I'd gone to war at fourteen and even before that I'd needed to fight for every scrap on the streets of Myrin.

I had thought Rig to be the opposite of Lencel when we'd first sat down, but the more I listened to him talk, the more I learned just how alike they were. For one, they were both hopeless romantics.

“Maybe you could catch her eye first?” I said suddenly, drawing everyone's eyes to me, my Princess raising her brows inquisitively, “Are you a fighter, Rig?”

If anything, the question just seemed to depress the lad all the more, “No, I'm the furtherest thing from one. I'm a Smith. Smith's don't fight.”

“The Princess is pretty handy with a sword,” Tessa said to no one in particular.

“I wouldn't say that, Tess,” Elora said humbly, her cheeks turning red as she turned to speak with a curious Senator and his wife, “I've only just begun to learn. It's difficult, but after what happened in Venos, I felt it best I know how to handle myself.”

“Karin did the same during our time in the Hall,” Calliston said with a nod of approval, “This stereotype of Smiths not knowing how to fight needs to end. I'm sure you sleep sounder knowing that your wife can handle herself in a fight, Orin.”

“I do,” I nodded, touching my knee to Elora's, “And she's being modest. Tess says that Elora's making good progress as a swordswoman. I might even be out of a job soon.”

My Princess rolled her eyes at me and touched my scarred face fondly, “I doubt it very much, my Knight. If you weren't around, I think I'd find life terribly boring. No one trying to kill us? Where's the fun in that?”

“True enough.” I grinned as I leaned into her touch.

“Someone's trying to kill you?” Rig asked, blinking as he stared at Elora and I.

“Not today,” I said with a smile, “But there's always tomorrow.”

“Speaking of which, you'd best prepare yourself for some challenges, Count Orin.” Reanin said respectively as she rose from her seat to pour some more wine, waving off the servants who stood in the corners of the room as she did so, “I'm sure word of your arrival has already spread across the city. Many will think to make a name for themselves by besting you.”

I grimaced, “I expected as much as soon as Lencel told me about the Festival. Don't get me wrong: I like a good fight. But I kinda want to take it easy while we're here.”

“That will be... difficult, I'm afraid,” Calliston said apologetically, “Challenges cannot be refused during the event. It is a scared tradition that goes back to the Republic's founding.”

“Well, I guess I'll just keep a low profile and hope for the best,” I smiled brightly, “What could go wrong?”

The pointed looks that every single one of my companions gave me at that moment let me know exactly what they thought of that statement. I chuckled and waved away their stares.

“Well, son, worst comes to worst, you just have to make yourself too big a threat,” Boldrin said musingly, “Find the biggest guy or gal there and beat them senseless. That'll take the target off your back.”

Why did I have the distinct impression that Boldrin's words had a hint of prophecy to them?

We continued the rest of the meal in good spirits, with even young Rig coming to his senses and quitting moping over his fair lady. He was actually a nice enough lad. A gruff exterior, maybe, but then I realised quite quickly that he hadn't grown up in luxury like Lencel had. His mother was well paid due to being the Smith of a Legate, but that didn't mean he was the equivalent of a Noble. He'd grown up in the Burrows, which was another name for the city proper. I was right to say he reminded me of Pater. He had that quiet intelligence to him that my brother always possessed. Though, I thankful to note that Rig seemed to lack Pater's killer instinct and almost brutal way of seeing the world around him.

Strange, I hadn't thought about Pater in weeks and now I found myself picturing him twice in one sitting. I wasn't worried about him, nor was I worried about the company he kept. I had done my fair share of brooding over my brother's fate when I'd first returned to Myrin, but I'd come to the conclusion that he had his own path to walk, one which diverged from my own. I would see him again. Even if he did like to spend time with scum like the Common Dogs, Pater was much like me in the sense that we were both as stubborn as mules. No matter the trouble he found himself in, I knew he'd be able to pull himself out of it.

By the time the meal was over, I was stuffed to the very brim, a warm smile on my face. A combination of the food and wine resulting in my contentment. The duck was particularly good, as promised by Calliston. He said it was made with some kind of orange. At least, that's what I think he said. Whatever it was, it truly was something else. Heston would have been happy to meet such a chef to compare notes, this I knew.

It was good to see my Smiths enjoying themselves. Be it Elora's enthusiastic talks with Reanin, Sara and May or Tessa's quiet happiness as she savoured her food, both sights lifted my spirits. Like me, they were often stressed by the problems facing us, and I'd be the first to admit that they were right to do so. To see them simply living in the moment was well worth the delay to our trip.

“Thank you for dinner, Calliston,” Vera said as she pushed herself to her feet, Annabelle quickly joining her, “Though I believe we have eaten you out of house and home.”

The Senator laughed, an arm around his rosy cheeked wife, “Not at all, Lady Vera. It is always nice to have company, especially so when that company includes you. I assume you wish to retire for the night? It has been something of an eventful day. The Festival begins at first light tomorrow, so best to get some rest now. My servants will show you the way to your rooms.”

I stood with Elora and Tessa, taking my wife's hand in mine as we bade farewell to the August family and made our way out into the halls beyond. Lencel offered to walk Vera to her room, which the First Knight respectively declined, though I know she enjoyed the offer alone from the large smile on her face.

Our walk through the August household was brief, Elora walking ahead with Vera and Annabelle as they spoke in quiet murmurs interspersed with laughter. Alden, Deirdric and Boldrin were already gone, led in another direction at the insistence of the servants. I smiled as I bumped against Tess, enjoying the cool night's breeze that poured in through the open window.

The stars seemed so much more vivid in Yeles. Without clouds to bar their path, the comforting gloom of Venos was washed away by the brilliance of shining stars that rivalled the glow of the silver ones in my soul.

“You enjoy dinner?” I asked my mercenary, who was also staring out into the blanket of night that covered the August estate.

“I did,” Tess replied before grimacing, “Though I'm not sure how tomorrow's going to go. Calliston's right, you will be challenged. Knowing your luck like I do, I'm surprised it hasn't happened already.”

“Maybe this time I'll-” I was about to finish before Tess cut me off with a groan of frustration, “What?”

“Every time you say your luck has turned, things become a hundred times worse,” Tess said with a chuckle, “You not noticed that?”

“I may have, aye,” I said, grinning, “Don't know why you're complaining, though. You love a fight.”

“Aye, I do,” Tessa quickly noted, “But only when I'm the one fighting. The whole city knows you as Elora's Knight. I can't well jump in and Bond with you. I'm going to be stuck cheering for you from the sidelines like some fucking Noblewoman. I might as well get a handkerchief to shake.”

I laughed at that, shaking my head, “I would pay to see that.”

Tessa chortled and nudged me back, this time staying close, “Just try to avoid getting into too many fights with the locals. You battling without me being there to help makes my teeth itch. I know Elora will keep you safe, but-”

“I get it, Tess,” I looped an arm around my Smith's shoulder, “No unnecessary fighting.”

“Just as long as you understand.” Tessa replied firmly, “I don't want something like what happened with Craven to repeat itself. I failed twice, Orin. Once at the wedding and once in Dunwellen. I won't fail again.”

“You are way too hard on yourself, I ever tell you that?”

“Once or twice. Won't change me, though.”

“I wouldn't want to even if I could.”

We continued on in companionable silence, enjoying the peace that the night afforded us. I watched my wife, walking alongside the First Knight and Smith of Venos. Elora had partaken of some wine, the warm glow to her cheeks a testament to that. Her smile lit up the night and it was all I could do not to pull her into my arms right then and there. That and the looks she was throwing me over her shoulder was driving me crazy. Wondering, golden eyes that ran the length of my body, causing her already flushed face to grow all the redder. Fuck, but was she beautiful.

We said goodnight to Tessa, Annabelle and Vera a few moments later, the servant leading them further into the villa as Elora and I stood at our door. Tessa even managed to endure a hug from my Princess, which was both hilarious and concerning. Hilarious because of the look of pure torture that the touch seemed to bring Tessa. Concerning... well, for the same.

Even still, my Smith rolled her eyes at my Princess and patted her back awkwardly before making after the servant. Vera winked at me as she left, which caused my face to flush a little. Annabelle patted Elora gently on the arm and chuckled in my direction before following after her sister.

Shit, did everyone know what tonight meant for us? Vera and Annabelle did, obviously, though it was hard to tell with my Tess.

“So,” I said, throwing my concerns aside as I leaned against one side of the door frame.

“So,” Elora replied softly, leaning against the other, her eyes fixed to mine.

“Fancy meeting you here, Princess.”

Elora laughed, her hand coming up to cover her mouth as she kicked out at me with a foot, “Are you trying to be suave, my Knight?”

“Trying?” I said with a smile.

Elora leaned into me, crossing the distance between us in an instant, “I like the way you call me Princess.”

That took me aback a little, “Okay... How much wine have you had?”

Elora laughed, pressing herself closer still, our lips coming dangerously close to touching, “ I'm serious, Orin. For everyone else it's just a title. But when you say it... well, it means more.”

“Of course it does. Even when you're Queen, you'll still be my Princess.”

“I like that,” Elora breathed, “I like being yours. I like you being mine.”

“All yours,” I replied softly, my fingers touching her cheek gently, “Forever, or until you get fed up with me and kick my ass to the cobbles.”

“Is that likely to happen?” Elora said, a soft sigh leaving her lips as her eyes remained fixed to mine.

“Not if I can help it.” I replied, “Besides, we're married now. I've successfully chained you to me for the rest of our lives. You can try to run, I'd just find you again.”

“I seem to remember our wedding being my idea?” Elora said smugly, playing along with the game.

“That's what you think.”

I kissed her then, so hard that I took her breath away. At least, I hope I did, because the feel of her lips on mine was certainly enough to rip the air from my own chest. Her touch was like fire running through my veins as her hands threaded their way through my hair. Her dress felt confining beneath my touch, my instincts almost commanding me to rip it off of her right then and there.

“I-I'm nervous, Orin.” My wife admitted sheepishly, pulling away from me, though our noses were still touching.

“Feel this,” I took her hand in mine, pressing her fingers to my chest so she could feel the beat of my heart, “It's like a cavalry charge. I don't think I've ever been this nervous in my life, and I've been set on fire.”

The joke worked and the tension was defused, Elora's nervousness draining away as she laughed, leaning her forehead against my chest, “How do you always know what to say?”

“Don't know about that, Princess,” I laughed along with her, “One day I'm sure I'll mess up. You'll need to help me out when that day comes.”

Elora pulled away, tugging at my tunic as she looked up at from beneath large eyelashes, hair cascading and drawing me all the deeper into her golden gaze, “I know you've done this before, Orin. I'm not a child. I don't know if I'll be-”

“It's you, Elora,” I held her tightly, “That's what matters. The first kiss I had with you was the single greatest of my life. If you think I'm worried about that, I'm not.”

“You know, you really are quite adorable when you're being sincere.” Elora grinned up at me as she began to kiss me again, pulling on my collar to pull her down to my level.

“What a coincidence,” I said in the moments we separated, “I think I'm adorable as well.”

She laughed against my lips and the time for talking faded away. The world became her and she took up everything in it. All I needed was my Princess and all she needed was me.

I couldn't have told you what the room looked like even if my life depended on it as we stumbled inside, all hands and hushed gasps. Each movement was nervous, unsure and awkward. We were new to this, learning and laughing at each mistake until we found our rhythm. I felt the smooth fabric of her dress fall away, revealing the smoother skin beneath even as I felt every inch of her, my heart skipping a beat with every moan. She did the same to me, her fingers running across my scarred body as she almost frantically removed my tunic and breeches. We fell into the bed as a tangle of limbs, the soft feel of her mouth against mine making stars explode behind my eye as I lost myself to the taste of my Princess, the smell of her. My hand touched black fabric and it fell away.

I gazed down at her face, knowing every curve and line better than even my own. I looked into her eyes and knew without a shadow of a doubt that I loved this woman with everything inside of me. All my failings, all my self-doubts. All my prejudices and flaws. She saw all of them and accepted me for who I was in a way that no one ever had before.

“I love you, Elora,” The words poured from my mouth as we moved as one. I kissed her again. Just because I wanted to, just because I could.

“I love you, Orin.” Elora's eyes danced with want as she pulled me ever closer.

Our bodies entwined, we lost ourselves in each other.

*

For the first time in a long time, my dreams were pleasant and free from the horrors of my past.

You would think that they would only get worse. Yesterday I had received a note that apparently seemed to have some relevance towards my rather grim and lonely future, yet I couldn't feel anxious or worried even if I tried. The reason for that was the woman laying next to me in the bed.

I awoke to find Elora staring at me, a wry smile on her lips as fingers traced one of the many scars on my chest. I grinned suggestively in response, my own eye running down the length of her body, barely hidden beneath the thin, silky sheets that covered us. My Princess only rolled her eyes, leaning forward to kiss me before returning her head to the pillow.

“Good morning, my love,” Elora said with a pleased smile, “Sleep well?”

I smirked and kissed her once more, “No nightmares for once. I must have been too exhausted.”

“You did have a long day.”

“And a busy night.”

I wouldn't have believed such a brilliant shade of red existed had it not appeared on my Princess' face. She clamped a hand over my mouth and laughed.

“I was just thinking, I don't know where you got half of these,” She murmured, eyes pulled to one injury in particular, on my abdomen. It was a thin and barely noticeable thing thing. I'd half forgotten it was there myself, “Where did you get this one?”

“The Empire, I think,” I replied, my hand sliding over hers, “A rather large woman with an axe if I recall. A mercenary, like me. She was good.”

“You were better,” Elora said with a breathy laugh before her fingers moved to my ribs, “And this one?”

“A Noble from Andapa,” I said, with a smile, “He was a duellist. Liked to wear those massive, frilly collars. You know the ones? They were all the rage among the Nobles of Myrin when I was a lad. It flew into his eyes during our fight. Lucky that, he was damn skilled with a rapier. Would've killed me if he had worn something more practical.”

“Tessa would have stopped him.” Elora said confidently, her fingers running the long wound's length, her touch making my hair stand on end.

“Yeah, she probably would've,” I looked back on that time. I was noticing new things about my savage Smith the more I delved into my memories of the past. Small, inconsequential details that I had written off at the time. Her anger that I'd accepted the ass-hole's challenge, the subtle hint of relief on her face when I'd emerged triumphant. Her interest in me had been so obvious yet I'd missed it almost completely.

“And this one was from Prince Maric,” Elora stated confidently as she traced the large white scar on my chest and neck, “Did you know that my parents were considering engaging me to him before I was born?”

“I should've tried harder to kill the bastard,” I growled as I pulled on Elora, a giggle leaving my Princess' lips as I yanked her body closer to mine, “He was lucky I'd only been holding a sword for a few months.”

Elora slipped her arms around my neck and leaned her head against my chest, her sigh of contentment a mirror of the feeling exuding from my soul, “I wish we could stay like this forever. No Samuel, no Mentor, no mysterious enemies or terrible prophecies. Just us.”

“You didn't seem too bothered by it yesterday,” I said quietly as my hand ran down her spine, “The note? Tessa was all but beside herself.”

“I saw,” Elora replied softly before shrugging, “I know you, Orin. Whatever comes, whatever happens, you'll find a way through it. I love you, my Knight, and I trust you. I'll stand beside you through anything that comes our way.”

“You may come to regret that promise, Princess,” I said, only half-joking.

“Never. We've been fated to be together since we were children, Orin. I've got you all to myself now and I'm not letting go, come what may. Saying that, I understand why Tessa is afraid. Sometimes I feel like I'm drowning. You are destined for great things, my love. Tessa and I can only join you for the journey. Having so little control is frustrating. I never thought about it before, during my time in the palace when my whole life was arranged, but this is something else. Something that goes beyond the power of Kings and Queens.”

“You're not talking about that Great Spirit shit that the Sister was spouting, are you?” I huffed disbelievingly, rolling my eye, “I'm not that special, Elora.”

“You are, Orin,” Elora grabbed both sides of my face with her small hands, her golden eyes framed by shining blonde hair, “You can't see it. Maybe you don't want to, but one day you'll have to accept that you aren't just a mercenary, or a Knight, or a future King. You're not an Heir like Alice, you are something more.”

“I don't want to be some saviour. Especially when I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to be saving people from,” I grumbled, tangling her hair with a hand, “Nor do I want the other titles. Being your husband is enough.”

“If only life could be so simple,” Elora sighed and kissed me once before pressing her head to my chest once more. “Wouldn't it be amazing to just run away from all of this? We could leave in the dead of night, pack a pair of horses and head for the horizon?”

“A small cottage by a lake?” I smiled, “Isn't that how all fairy tales end?”

“Either that or in a palace,” Elora nodded, “Though I'm not in a rush to return to ours.”

“Neither am I, I'd much prefer the cottage. We could raise chickens.”

“I've never done anything like that before,” Elora said bemusedly, “I wonder how I'd do?”

“Terribly, at a guess. Between the two of us, I'm sure we'd have killed them all off by winter.”

Elora laughed and I joined her, a perfect moment with my perfect wife. The image was a fine one and it appeared all too clearly in my mind's eye. Still, it was bittersweet. Elora knew it as well I did, that future was beyond our reach. Our lives were just too full and the thought of leaving Tess was too unspeakable to even consider.

“Maybe one day,” I muttered doubtfully, “When it's all over.”

“Yes. Maybe one day.” My Princess sounded just as unconvinced as I was.

I felt something tickle at the Bond and my melancholic mood was banished. I reached down and deep, touching upon the golden thread that connected my soul to that of my mercenary. I sent my good morning to her and watched as she retreated as fast as her awareness could manage. Tess was almost like some skittish animal, scared back to her den by my touch. I waited patiently until I felt her response, a firm grasp of the Bond as she let me know I'd been heard. I sent one last little pulse before breaking the surface of the physical world.

“Tessa is awake. We'll have to head down.”

“I suppose we must,” Elora said, clearly annoyed and moving to rise, “I wouldn't like to keep our hosts waiting.”

“You're right... Although,” I grabbed Elora's arm before she could get very far, pulling her back down next to me, surprise and humour gleaming in her honey-coloured eyes as I ran my hands down her back, “We could stand to make them wait a little longer. I don't think I'm quite ready to let you leave.”

“Is that so, my Knight?” Elora grinned as she moved closer to me, “Whatever will we do to pass the time?”

“I'll think of something.”

* * *

Last night, Tessa dreamed of Orin.

She wasn't quite ready to think about the contents of said dream yet. In fact, she doubted she ever would. Instead she decided to ignore it entirely, bottling it up and sending it deep into the darkest reaches of her soul, never to be thought about again.

Because that had worked for her so well before.

Frustrated in more ways than one, Tessa grumbled and set about the first task of the day, which also happened to be the one she took the most joy from: Touching Orin's soul.

She concentrated and tapped against their connection before pulling back. Waiting with bated breath as she stared at their Bond, searching for the slightest hint that Orin had felt her touch. The seconds ticked by and the frown on her face grew all the more pronounced as a result. Had she been too subtle? Should she try again? She wanted it to seem like an accident so that he would believe he had caught her off guard but perhaps she'd gotten too good at hiding her awareness from his sight? Perhaps-

There!

Tessa threw herself back against her bed, hands rising to her mouth to hide her smile as she felt Orin send over his morning greeting, touched with happiness and contentment at having caught her out. She sent a little pulse in return to say good morning in her own way. She'd yet to become as proficient at emotional conveyance as he was, which was to be expected considering he'd been Bonded to Elora for some time, but she took pride in the steady increase to her skills. Training was important, after all.

In a good mood and her dream all but forgotten, Tessa rose and dressed herself in the clothes gifted to her by Lencel August. Her old clothes had arrived sometime in the night, with Tessa very nearly stabbing the maid who left them at the door, but her new ones were so much more comfortable. It was just a bonus that they were also functional and not some infernal dress like Elora was want to wear. As much as her Sister-Smith had complained about putting it on after the bath, she'd seemed mighty pleased with the look on Orin's face when he caught sight of her wearing it.

A fragment of the dream rose to the forefront of Tessa's mind but she pushed it back down again. Not today. She needed to keep her wits about her. Orin would fight at the Festival and while she couldn't personally Bond with him, she could still support him however she could.

Their talk last night had been a good place to start. Orin was joking with her, this she knew, but Tessa thought it might be something that could raise his spirits if he was faced with a tough opponent. Today, Tess had a mission.

She was going to get herself a handkerchief to wave.

She could ask the others, of course, but it was embarrassing enough that she was even considering getting one in the first place. Dragging others into it so they could mock her was not something she was willing to do. It was for him and him alone.

She remembered something that May had said the night before, something to do with all the shops being open during the day of the Festival. If Tessa could find a few seconds to slip away and purchase one, then she'd be ready for the inevitable challenge. It was such a common item, she was sure she could find one easily enough. The difficulty lay in finding the time to escape unwanted eyes. Most of all, it would be hard to escape Orin's notice. If he saw she'd gone missing he might become angry or worried, something which she would never want to do to him. She needed a co-conspirator and that could only be one person.

Though dressed and ready to begin the day, Tessa was leery of leaving before Orin had risen. She briefly entertained the idea of going to his room but believed that would be idiotic. Elora was with him for one and this was the first night they had spent together in anything resembling a bed since the wedding. She wasn't an idiot, she knew what was happening in there, even if her own experience on the subject was limited to... well, nothing.

Finally unable to stand waiting, Tessa left her elegant room and walked through the halls of the August estate. Orin seemed to appreciate the finely built home but it couldn't be less interesting to Tess. She would much rather a nice forest to camp in, an isolated location and one which was easily defensible. The villa was about as safe as an open field considering all the bloody windows, none of which seemed to have any glass mounted in them for some reason. She understood that it was hot in Yeles, but still, some glass would be nice if for no other reason then you could hear when someone smashed it. Tessa had slept with her daggers close the night before, unfortunately enough for the maid who'd brought her clothes well after midnight.

The sound of wood striking wood drew Tessa's attention as she cocked her head, following the sound.

The villa was built around a central sparring arena which she had spied the night before. It was nothing fancy, merely a circle of sand ringed by waist high wood, though considering how churned it was when she glanced at it, it seemed to be well used. It appeared her assessment had been correct.

Lencel was training with a young, dark-haired woman of an age with him, one which Tessa recognised from the night before as one of the Legionaries who had escorted them into the estate. The two combatants exploded towards each other, the sand shifting in their wake as wooden weapons clashed against one another with force.

Tessa had always appreciated a talented warrior and she could see that both of them were clearly skilled, their movements strangely similar despite using different weapons. The Legionary fought with spear in hand, the long shaft twirling as she sought to find some gap in the young man's defences. Lencel was granting his opponent no quarter, every stroke of his sword catching her gambits before they could be formed as he effortlessly pushed her back.

He was the greater of the two, that much was obvious. The woman had too little endurance for a prolonged match and was trying to end the battle before it could truly begin. A wise strategy if she'd been the better in terms of skill, but that clearly wasn't the case.

The matched ended with Lencel's sword resting against the woman's abdomen, her curse quick to follow as she cast her weapon aside in frustration.

“You're getting a lot better, Zeli. You nearly had me on the turn,” Lencel complimented, a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

“Horse shit,” The woman complained, hands on hips and a troubled frown aimed at the sand, “I should have the advantage of reach and yet it just isn't there.”

“Because I push to take it from you,” Lencel reminded gently, “Remember what Master Frankel says: Any advantage can become a disadvantage. That's as true for you as the warrior you face.”

Zeli nodded, biting her lip gently, “I'll think on it. Thank you, Lencel.”

“You are welcome and thank you for the match,” the young man grinned before spying Tessa, his eyes widening, “Lady Tessa! Good morning! I'm sorry if we woke you. I like to rise with the dawn to train.”

Tessa grunted but didn't reply for a moment, examining the sword in his hand. His style felt.... stilted. Too much control and not enough spontaneity. She'd been curious to see just how good Lencel was, as he seemed to be considered something of prodigy in Yelmora. Yet she couldn't help but be disappointed. He wouldn't bring out the best in Orin, not like she could. She made him shine with terrible intent, saw the hidden self beneath, the ferocious animal he kept barely restrained.

A shiver ran down Tessa's spine. She loved seeing him like that. It would have been nice to watch it instead of taking part. She couldn't truly appreciate it while fighting him, though that offered a thrill all its own.

“Good morning,” Tessa replied. She was trying to be better with greetings now, watching Elora to figure out how she could be so nice to everyone. The kindness wasn't something she believed she could learn, but the words were easy enough even if she didn't mean them, “You train every day like this?”

“I do,” Lencel replied with a grin, wiping at his forehead as he hefted his wooden blade, “Especially today. With the Festival, I must keep my skills sharp.”

Zeli snorted, “You don't have anything to worry about, Len. You're the best sword in Yelmora, none are your match.”

Tessa tried to hide her crestfallen expression. Maybe she wouldn't get to see it after all.

“I don't know about that,” Lencel said with a humble grin, “Berthold is incredibly skilled. I saw him fight once during a tourney six months ago. His father may not be as good as Master Frankel, but he definitely taught his son well.”

“I would like to spar.” Tessa said, throwing a glance to Lencel and then his companion, “I would appreciate it if one of you would be willing.”

They may have been lacking in her eyes, but Tessa hadn't had the chance to stretch her legs for quite some time. Her focus had been almost entirely on Smithing. She'd had the odd opportunity to train against Boldrin, of course, but with most of his focus on Orin's training she hadn't gotten much out of it. Teaching Elora in combat was demanding in and of itself because of just how much Tessa needed to hold back. The Princess had good instincts, but she was a novice in the ways of the sword, especially one so ungainly as Rionna. Real progress took time and she'd only been at it a couple of weeks.

“I'll do it,” Zeli grinned, stepping forward and picking up her spear with a flourish, “I need a win to perk me up anyway.”

Tessa said nothing at that. She didn't value talking before a fight, though many did, including Orin. If he spent more time fighting instead of trying to formulate a witty retort he might end the battle that much sooner.

Walking over to a rack of training weapons, Tessa picked up two small wooden daggers. They looked rarely used and lacked the wear and tear of Lencel's sword or Zeli's spear. They would do, she supposed with a shake of her head.

“Um, Zeli-” Lencel began, a faint look of worry on his face.

“What? It's fine, I'm sure the Princess won't mind if I make one of her guards sweat,” The girl smirked and twirled her spear confidently.

Tessa had to admit that she knew how to hold the spear, but that was about it. The chances of Zeli beating her, even if it was a practice match? Laughably low. But then why not let the dreamers dream?

“I'm not Elora's guard,” Tessa clarified as she climbed over the waist high boundary, “I'm Orin's.”

Zeli shrugged, “Makes no difference to me. I was trained by the greatest weapon master in the country.”

“Zeli!” Lencel hissed, before turning to Tessa, “I know you are very capable, Lady Tessa, but perhaps a better weapon? Daggers hardly hold up well against the spear.”

“Is that so? I never realised?” Tess rolled her eyes sarcastically, “Have no fear, Lencel August. I don't think you have to worry about me losing.”

“Oh, confident are you?” Zeli danced from foot to foot, “I like that. Makes the fall all the better.”

Tessa grinned. Perhaps there was something to this pre-fight talk after all.

Lencel gave the signal, the girls moved as one.

Tessa was left disappointed.

A perfectly timed thrust came for the mercenary's head which she slipped past with ease, staring with derision at the Legionary, whose eyes widened at her speed. She got that a lot. About the only two people she'd ever met who could keep up with her were Boldrin and Orin.

Tessa bashed the spear aside and slipped a foot forward, placing it behind the girl's heel and shoving against her as she did so. Zeli began to fall as Tess began to cut, her wooden blades striking against the gaps in her armour. If they'd been real, arteries would have been cut open and Zeli would've been dead before she hit the ground. As it was, she just landed hard and had a few spots of red skin

The young legionary was staring, looking up at Tessa with a dumbstruck expression on her face before she glanced down at her body with confusion, feeling at the bruises that were already beginning to form, “What... What just happened?”

“You met my Tess!” The words were a crowing call and coming in the direction of the entrance to the villa. Tessa tried to still her soul as she turned to the sound, catching sight of her Knight standing there in all his glory. He had spoken to Zeli but his emerald eye was fixed to her, his stare hungry and... curious, “I understand your confusion, believe me. I've had that look on my face more than once after fighting her.”

“Count Orin!” Lencel said, shaking off his surprise as he waved, “Good morning!”

“Morning, Lencel. Remember you don't have to call me that, just Orin will do fine,” Orin smiled in that disarmingly annoying way of his, making Tessa's heart beat a little faster, “Whose your friend?”

“Zeli, Lord,” The Legionary leapt to her feet, flushing with embarrassment, “I am Lencel's personal guard and a member of the Senatorial detail for Senator August.”

“So our personal guards were fighting then?” Orin raised an eyebrow to Tess, a smirk on his lips that caused her face to flush. She continued to watch him, her grip on her daggers not loosening in the slightest. She knew what he wanted, what he needed, and she craved it just as badly.

“Ah, I suspected that Lady Tessa was your guard last night. You seem very close,” Lencel said, looking fondly at the still stunned Legionary, “Much like Zeli and I. May I ask how long you have served as Orin's guard, Lady Tessa?”

“Since I was a child,” Tessa's grin was predatory, showing her canines to her Knight as her heart began to beat like a drum, the hammering so loud she was positive Orin could hear it over the Bond, “Since before 'Count Orin' here could hold a sword.”

Lencel frowned, “Do commoners usually have protectors?”

“This one did,” Tessa continued as she began to pace, growing impatient at her Knight, who grinned at her with folded arms, “The amount of trouble he got in, he needed one.”

“That's a little unfair,” Orin said playfully, “I can take care of myself now. I can even hold a sword all on my own, believe it or not.”

Lencel and Zeli might as well have faded from existence in that moment. “Show me.”

It was like Tess' words were what Orin was waiting for as he vaulted into the ring and held out a hand to the son of August, “May I borrow your weapon, Lencel? I promise to return it in one piece.”

“O-of course, Orin.” Lencel replied, handing over his sword hesitantly, “Would you like a signal or-”

Orin attacked.

The blood boiled in Tessa's veins as he came for her like a man possessed, the wooden sword singing in his hand as he struck at her from every angle, his weapon a maelstrom of unrestrained destruction.

Tessa met her Knight with a joyful snarl, her lips parting as she used both of her blades with incredible precision to deflect each one of his strong attacks. She couldn't afford to block. She was faster but Orin matched her with his monstrous strength. He would smash through her guard if she wasn't careful.

The very thought of it made her quiver.

They danced across the sands, Tessa pushing against her Knight at every opportunity, her blades coming very near to ending the bout several times but thwarted by Orin's uncanny control of his weapon. The sword suited him almost too well. Boldrin was right, any other weapon and the match would have long been over, but with a sword in hand and a fire in his heart, Orin was nearly unbeatable. Now more than ever after Boldrin's intensive training, the results of which were apparent for all to see.

He was faster, leaner and his reflexes had been sharpened to a point. Boldrin said he was as good as before he lost his eye but that was a lie. He was better than ever even without the Storm. Tessa almost wanted him to summon it, to come at her with everything in him, but she knew he wouldn't despite the threat he'd made yesterday. He wanted to beat her with his own power and she'd think less of him if he relied on it now.

This was for them. Fuck the Gifts and magic. Right here, right now, they would decide who was better.

Orin's sword caught her across the ribs. It was a glancing blow, but the ache that came from it was enough to make her wince as she hastily pulled out of reach of his attacks. Orin pursued, allowing her no quarter, the grin on his face so wide it threatened to burst free at any moment.

She decided to take that grin and fill it with blood, lunging forward. Orin's eyes widened with panic as she danced through his barrier of blade work effortlessly, throwing a sharp elbow into his nose and stabbing him in the kidney for good measure as she passed him by.

“A win for Lady Tessa then,” Lencel said with a worried frown, “A good match-”

Orin snarled and came at her again, his nose bleeding profusely as he brought a crippling blow down on top of her head. Tessa laughed and slipped the strike, ready to follow up with a knee to his already broken nose when Orin blurred out of the way and threw a hay-maker into her chest that caused the air to explode from her lungs. Such was the strength behind it that she rolled across the sands, her vision swimming as she touched a hand against her ribs. It hurt to breathe.

She looked up to see Orin leaning on his sword, blowing on his fingers and rubbing them on his sand stained tunic. He smiled at her.

Tessa burst forward with a roar and they met at the centre of the sands. Each of them inflicting damage on the other as they yelled with pain with every agonising rap of wood. A blow to the arm, a hit to the head, a strike to the chest. The both of them were so evenly matched that it seemed like it would continue without end. It was coming down to who wanted it the most, who needed it the most.

Neither of them were willing to be the loser in this fight.

Tessa tripped Orin, sweeping his legs out from under him and stabbing him at least three times before he hit the ground. She moved to maintain her assault with a hiss, bringing her blades down but hitting nothing but sand as Orin rolled to his sword and hastily threw a blow over his shoulder. It collided with Tess' arm and she gasped as the limb released its hold on her knife, sending it skittering away.

Her Knight pressed the advantage, jumping to his feet and pushing forward with long sweeping attacks that Tess was forced to repel with one dagger. It was a fading defence and one which she couldn't maintain for long. Overconfidence would win her the day, though. Orin had a habit of getting a big head when he thought he was winning. It made him predictable and that was something she could exploit.

Just like clockwork he overextended and Tessa leapt forward, running her dagger across his ribs with such speed that he cursed in pain. She grabbed her fallen dagger, feeling returning to her fingers as she turned to face her Knight. Orin stood across from her, breathing heavily and drenched in sweat. Tessa wasn't looking much better. They'd only been fighting for three minutes, but the amount of attacks they'd thrown at each other was astounding. The fact that either of them were standing at all was a miracle unto itself.

“You... are... incredible...” Orin breathed out with a smile, his emerald eye flashing, “But... I see you, Tessa. This fight is mine.”

The mercenary only smirked in response. Overconfidence, just like she'd suspected. The fight was hers.

She moved, pushing past her limits and ready to end their battle. The sand exploded at her feet as she held both daggers out before her like spear tips. Her Knight was amazing, beyond even her own expectations, but he simply wasn't good enough to beat her yet. Maybe next time.

“First Sword...” Orin muttered as he frowned in concentration. Something changed.

The world stopped and Tessa saw the monster.

The animal kept hidden, the one that Orin so often tried to deny. It was his bloodlust manifested, the very same that Tessa let loose without fetter. Her Knight kept his love of battle controlled, contained. It weakened him in some ways and made him so much stronger in others. But something was different now. Orin's lust for combat was the equal of her own and yet now it felt focused, narrowed and sharpened to a killing edge.

Why did her hands tremble? Why did she feel so afraid, yet so excited at the same time? Why was the mere act of looking at him enough to take her breath away?

She didn't have the time to formulate an answer before it was over.

The daggers in her hands were knocked aside by a tremendous force that she didn't even get the chance to see, the left one tugging on something before being ripped from her grip. A strong arm wrapped around her shoulders from behind even as she felt chipped and scarred wood settle under her chin. She raised an unconscious hand up to wrap around her binding and found the limb to be as unmovable as iron.

“I thought you wouldn't use Storm.”

“I didn't,” Orin whispered into her ear, each syllable sending a shiver down Tessa's spine, “I told you, Tess. I see you.”

She settled against him as her pounding heart began to slow, the comfort of his touch reminding her of the dream which she immediately crushed before it could be remembered, “You got lucky.”

“Concede,” Orin murmured, “You know the rule, Tessa. Concede or I'm gonna have to knock you out.”

For the briefest of moments, Tessa considered not allowing him the satisfaction, but decided against it. What she had just seen, what she'd just felt. It was worth the loss, “I concede, Orin. Just this once.”

“Thank fuck for that,” Orin cried out in pain, falling backward and hitting the ground with a boneless flop as Tessa quickly joined him. They lay next to each other in the sand, silence accompanying their every pained breath, “You really are amazing, you know that?”

“Not amazing enough. I think this is my lowest moment.” Tessa said bitterly, which only made her idiot laugh.

“Come on, there's always next time. Besides, if we were using real blades, you'd have killed me on that first pass,” Orin chuckled before raising himself up on one hand with a wince as he stared down at her, “I told you-”

“You saw me,” Tessa repeated, “Yes, you've said that a few times now, annoyingly enough. What the fuck does it mean, Orin? And what did you say before that final attack? First Sword?”

“Oh... well, that's...” Her Knight looked more than a little sheepish, “That's a work in progress. Don't even really know what I'm doing with it yet. But I beat you because I was thinking about you last night, at dinner.”

“You were?” Tessa blushed, her eyes narrowing, “Orin, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“It's hard to explain,” The swordsman admitted, “But it was like I finally understood how you moved, how you fought. You move like Lightning, almost too fast to touch. But I found a single moment where you let your guard down. I struck you then and won. I saw you fully and completely, without letting my own experiences colour my impressions of your style. You understand?”

“I think so,” Tessa said, trying to work through it in her mind, “Makes sense, I guess. The moment I went in for the dual fang, you exploited the instant I needed to position my daggers, when I took my eyes off of you. You took advantage and used my own speed against me. I thought you were moving faster, but that wasn't it. You advanced and dodged, trusting your reflexes to see you through. That about right?”

“Well... yeah,” Orin looked vaguely annoyed, “But when you rationalise it like that it sounds a lot less mystical.”

Tessa couldn't help herself, she laughed at Orin's dejected expression. He was quick to join her. She liked the sound of his laugh.

“The only thing I don't know is what you did with your sword. How did you knock my daggers away without me seeing? What was that attack, Orin?”

“Well, that was-”

“You two are amazing.”

Tessa paused and looked over her shoulder to see Zeli and Lencel both watching them with awe-filled eyes, “That was incredible. I've never seen anything like it.”

“I'm glad you enjoyed the show, Lencel,” Orin smiled at the young man, “I hope you learned something.”

“I did, Count, I truly did,” Lencel appeared to be deep in thought, a finger tapping to his temple, “Would it be impertinent of me to ask for a quick lesson? I've never used a sword like you do and I think testing my style against yours would be most helpful.”

Orin glanced at Tessa, grinning as she rolled her eyes, “Sure, why not? I promised last night. Just give me a minute to recover. I usually need at least that long after fighting Tess.”

Tessa watched Orin out of the corner of her eye, the easy way he spoke, so different to the violence he had been emanating before, the darkness that lurked inside of him. It drew her in all the more now, perhaps because it was near identical to her own.

She wondered what Orin would one day become. The mercenary felt like something important had just happened, something of meaning. She found her excitement returning as she watched him. He was growing so fast. If she didn't find a way to keep up then she may find herself being left behind.

She couldn't allow that.

She wanted to stand with him forever, until the end, and the only way to do that was to get stronger. He'd won today, a true victory using a technique she had never seen before. She'd begun to stagnate, which was unacceptable. She needed to speak with Boldrin about upping her own training. To stand with him, with the man who meant everything to her, she needed to be the best she could be.

“Were you two fighting again?”

Oh, and she needed to see a Princess about a handkerchief.