The Troivackian King Matthias the Sixth watched his men train with his hands clasped behind his back, and his feet braced apart. He wore dark brown trousers, a deep burgundy tunic, and long leather vest. His golden crown glinted in the sun, and the presence of the finery assured his troops that he would not join them for their sparring much to their relief.

As he watched under the stone archway with his back to the castle wall, he noted a flurry of movement to his left near one of the stone pillars that held up the stone covering he stood under.

The King’s eyebrows twitched in a rare show of emotion.

He waited patiently knowing what was to come.

“RAAAAAA!” The battle cry of his son rang out as the young boy threw himself into his father’s arms. The King caught him, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

He was pleased.

“Papa did I surprise you?” The monarch stared down into the dark eyes that resembled his own, and patted the lad atop his light brown hair. He was careful to ensure his gold rings didn’t catch any of the boy’s fine hairs.

“Not quite, but your footfalls have become silent. It is good progress.”

The six-year-old boy beamed proudly up at him.

“Captain Orion says if I keep practicing my speed I could maybe join your next hunt!”

“Perhaps. Brendan, where is your brother?” The little boy made a face.

“I don’t know. Henry always wants to be with mother. Can’t I be with you Papa?” The little boy asked staring up at his father imploringly.

The King grew stern, but before he addressed his son, looked to his soldiers.

“Walters, widen your stance. If you’re knocked on your ass one more time you will be aiding the masons in the construction of the North wall for a month.”

There was an emphatic reply, which the monarch barely acknowledged before turning back to his son.

“Brendan, your brother needs to learn to be strong. How will he learn if you leave him to hide in his mother’s skirts?”

“You taught me how to be strong though! Why should I-”

“Son,” The timber of the ruler’s voice changed and Brendan began to tremble immediately at the change.“I want you to tell me the name of every man that has been apart of your lessons.” He watched his son carefully.

“T-There’s you, Papa, Captain Orion, Lord Miller, stable master Jacob, Sir Roberts-”

“Precisely. You will remember them and their patience with you. It is your duty as a man of Troivack to not only train the weak, but to strengthen them as well.”

‘The ones that want to improve that is.’ He added silently.

The King couldn’t help but pity Lord Miller for his youngest son’s indifference regarding his own capability as a nobleman.

Brendan was doing his best not to break eye contact or shed a single tear when listening to his father’s lecture. He accomplished this knowing that if he didn’t, he would need to stay in his chamber for a week.

“Yes, Papa.”

“Good. As punishment, you will go to each of the men you listed and apologize for slighting their efforts in your education. After that, you will retrieve your brother and you will help him.”

“Yes, Papa.” The boy’s lip was quivering, and the King decided to show him the smallest ounce of leniency and not scold him for the emotion.

“You are dismissed.”

The Prince trotted off, his footsteps inaudible, and it pleased the King more than he would ever say.

*

The Queen of Troivack stared down at her son Henry as she tapped her nail on the desk she had been using to review the castle finances. She was biding her time for the child to realize her displeasure was growing.

For when he did, she hoped for his sake he would seek out his brother.

“Mama, what’s that?” The child pointed at the magnifying glass she had been using to read some of the messier ledgers.

“A tool for reading small and sloppy writing,” she replied tightly.

The boy grinned at her and her stomach clenched. He was going to be eaten alive at this rate...

“Mother?” The Queen felt relief wash over her at the sound of Brendan’s voice.

“I am glad you are here, my Prince. Please remove your brother from my presence.” She bowed her head to her eldest son who nodded firmly.

Walking around his mother to where his three-year-old brother sat, Brendan scowled.

“Come on. You need to stop being a baby," the eldest Prince demanded before roughly grabbing his brother’s small chubby hand, and trying to tug him to his feet.

The child let out a shriek that made the Queen’s ears ring. While her jaw clenched at the sound, she turned back to her writing desk and tried to continue her work.

Brendan’s cheeks deepened in color at his own frustration.

“Stop it!” He shouted back at his brother, which only made the toddler scream louder as tears ran down his cherub face.

Brendan plugged his ears, while the Queen fixed her eyes on the wall ahead of her, and didn’t budge. The chamber door was suddenly thrust open with a bang that rattled the castle floors.

The screaming didn’t cease however as the King himself strode over to his offspring, glowering darkly down at the boy until the shrieks subsided to small hiccups.

The King turned to the Queen.

“Did you attempt to soothe him?”

“Of course not, Sire.”

He turned towards Brendan who met his graze defiantly. “Did you make your apologies?”

“Yes, Papa.”

“Very well. Both of you leave the room. I need to have a word with Henry.”

The Queen rose gracefully and curtsied then opened the door for Brendan before exiting herself.

Henry began to whimper at seeing his mother leave him, when the King picked him up, and held him arms length away so that they could stare at one another.

The boy went still. Henry peered fearlessly into his father’s eyes, his curling black hair and dark eyes dubbing him closest in resemblance to the King out of he and his brother.

For a moment the Troivackian monarch was glad that the child showed no weakness to him- until he smiled.

“Enough,” the disgust dripped from the King’s tone, but he felt his insides twist unpleasantly at having to say the word.

He would never admit that he thought his son had the most charming expressions that were dangerously capable of softening the hardiest of men.

He wasn’t just any man however.

Matthias was the King.

The child giggled.

“You will not show such weakness on my land.” His voice was soft, but cold. The toddler stopped giggling, and instead thrust his thumb into his mouth as he studied his father cheerily.

“Very well. If you cannot conduct yourself properly, you will be left alone until dinner.”

The child began to fuss then. The King placed his son on the floor and turned to the door. As he exited, he glanced over his shoulder at the growing concern on Henry’s face.

“It’s for your own good. No child of mine will be conquered, so you best start learning how to behave.”

Tears were rising in Henry's eyes. The King hesitated for only a second as he went to close the door.

That second however, meant more than anyone in Daxaria could ever imagine.

***

“Who was it here that insisted the Zinferans were a peaceful people that were unlikely to join Daxaria in their defense in a war?” The King raised a thick black eyebrow as he stared around the table. His Chief of Military turned to observe the Lords with a malicious glint in his eyes.

“When I think about it, I think it was… you, Lord Ball.” The King stared right at the man whom was visibly sweating despite his refusal to look away from his ruler. To avoid eye contact was a measure of cowardice in Troivack.

“My Lord, it is unusual that they would interfere! Why are we not discussing how the Daxarian idiots even knew about our plans?” Lord Ball exclaimed scowling at the nine other Lords present.

“An excellent point. I do find it an odd the coincidence that Lord Piereva’s sister is reportedly close with the continent’s King and Queen.” Lord Palmer turned on the head of the Piereva family, but the man quickly shrunk away under the dark expression that met him.

“She’s a half sister,” Phillip Piereva started fiercely before turning back to the King. “Zinfera’s involvement changes our plans to begin the raids through Rollom. We already have men on Austice’s shores scouting their troops, but we need someone in the castle to get a better handle of the situation.”

The King followed the development of the conversation silently. His dark eyes watching every shifting face carefully. Their reactions told him everything he’d need to know to assess the situation.

It was time to speak. Every eye was on him, silently insisting on his command.

“Isn’t your sister supposed to be marrying soon?” The King stared at Lord Piereva whom was still scowling over the mention of his youngest sibling.

“They are trying to align her with Zinfera to solidify their military aid," Lord Piereva replied tersely.

“We have sent one of our own to her as a potential marriage partner. He is a spineless man, but of noble birth from Lord Miller’s family. Piereva, if you could command your blood to abide your order, her reaction will be very telling to us.”

“Sire?” Lord Ball peered around confused about the King’s meaning, his chins jiggling as he spoke.

“Lord Ball, his majesty is suggesting that we discern whether or not Lord Piereva’s sister is a spy or not by seeing if she takes orders from her true home. I recommend Lord Piereva’s presence in Daxaria to enforce this. Her brother’s presence could help alleviate threats that could be forcing her choice in the Daxarian court.” The Chief of Military explained, his intense black eyes smoldering into Lord Ball who visibly gulped.

“Thank you, Mr. Helmer. It is a relief to finally have someone who catches on when I first explain things. It saves my breath.” The King gave a nod to Aidan, which earned the Chief of Military a glare from Lord Piereva.

“Come to think of it your majesty, I know I told you many interesting things about my time in Daxaria but-”

“Yes, yes, Piereva, I have given you your praise.”

“- Pardon me Sire. What I was going to say, was that there was another odd encounter I had dismissed, but now think it might be worth mentioning.”

The King turned his full attention to the Lord, the weight of his undivided interest was enough to make most men choke.

“There was a cook in the castle. He made the best food I’ve ever eaten in my life, and well… it was peculiar. He looked a shocking amount like Mr. Helmer here. Red hair. Tall and gangly- though he had sharper features. Bright blue eyes and looked pretty for a man.” The room burst into titters at the description, but both the King and Lord Piereva were watching the Chief of Military’s response closely.

At first the witch said nothing.

Then he leaned back in his chair, and began to laugh.

“Mind sharing with us what is so funny?” Lord Piereva's right cheek twitched.

“Oh ,Your Majesty… you have no idea what was just revealed,” the Chief of Military guffawed ignoring Lord Piereva completely.

“I don’t suffer those who wish to toy with me.” The King’s bored voice yet steady stare drew Aidan’s black eyes. When the two locked gazes, the temperature in the room rose by several degrees.

“My apologies, Sire. Lord Piereva deserves a hearty toast from me,” Aidan stood, goblet in hand. “You, my Lord, have found my estranged son, Finlay Helmer.”

“How strange, he introduced himself as Finlay Ashowan.” Lord Piereva practically spat in reply.

The witch chuckled.“His mother’s last name. Typical. Well, we can use this information to our advantage, Your Highness.”

“How so?” The King was interested, but it showed in neither his face nor his posture.

“My dear long lost son is a witch as well, and happens to be living as a peasant in the castle of the King. I believe that we could acquire more than one spy of our own within its walls.”

“You wish to arrange a meeting with your son to convince him to become a traitor?” Lord Piereva scoffed.

“Yes. I will go once Lady Jenoure announces her marriage and see what can be done.” Aidan didn't even bat an eye at Earl Piereva's derisive tone.

“What if he does not wish to be of use? He has forgone your name after all.” Lord Palmer demanded with his shoulder length black hair swinging as he stood.

“Then we tell the Daxarian King that Finlay was a spy and he will have my son killed. Or we get rid of him ourselves. It is no loss of mine either way.” When Aidan seated himself again, the King had a funny glint in his eye as he stared at his Chief of Military.

“Is he a bastard?”

The room grew quiet, and the chair holding the fire witch creaked as heat ebbed out of the man.

“I married his mother before I knew she was weak. He was born a year after. He is as legitimate as anyone here.” He cast an appraising gaze around the room until he locked eyes with the King again.

The inner corners of the witch’s eyes twitched. There was something strange about the Troivackian monarch. The man was unreadable and remarkably controlled, which Aidan found more than mildly aggravating and disconcerting.

“I will give you the command when you should go speak with your son. I first want Lord Piereva to journey back to Daxaria and inform his sister that she is to marry the man we’ve sent. Weak or not, he is a Troivackian and he will bend to his King.”

The Lords listened without interruption.

“We will enter through Rollom as planned, but not as an army. We will invade as we have with Austice, and we will agree on a day where our quiet feet are to become the drums of war.”

***

Fin was stretching and cracking his back on his way back to his cottage as Kraken trotted beside him. He was thinking about how wonderful a good night’s rest would be, when he saw Ruby barreling across the lawn heading towards him. She appeared to have come from the east wing exit.

“Kraken, why do I get the sense that I’m about to get in trouble?” Fin stopped and waited before another thought occurred to him. “You didn’t poop in anyone’s shoes again did you?”

The feline responded with a ‘mew’, and fell silent as he too sat and waited for the Head of Housekeeping.

When Ruby finally huffed to a halt in front of Fin, she began trying to speak.

“His… Majesty… wants… you-”

“I know there have been some rumors floating around that I’m gay, but I can assure you I am not.” Fin interrupted with a cheeky smile. Ruby shot him an exasperated look.

Once she had finally caught her breath she tried again.

“His majesty wants you to order more food from our merchants for next week. We just received word that three suitors are on their way for Lady Jenoure.”

Fin’s stomach dropped to his feet.

“Oh… I didn’t know she would have to choose so quickly.”

Ruby gave him a skeptical expression before she continued.

“I believe they are trying to rush her due to the war. It doesn’t matter that the King wanted to wait. There are two Zinferans suitors, and one Troivackian set to arrive shortly along with entourages for all three.”

A dark cloud settled over Fin, muddling his mind, and so it took him a moment to process the information.

“If possible, could you please find out more exact numbers? I need to know before I finish the order for tomorrow morning. We have a bit of extra food thanks to the festival earlier this week which should help, but I prefer to be prepared.”

The Head of Housekeeping nodded.

“I will try to get that information from his majesty before he sleeps this evening. Though he is having to break the news to Lady Jenoure tonight, so it is hard to say if he will have time afterwards.”

Fin’s chest was constricting and beginning to pain him.

Ruby bid him farewell for the night and ran back to the castle to finish informing the rest of the staff.

The witch stood staring after her blindly under the first twinkling stars that hung just over the horizon that still glowed from sunset. After a moment, he shook his head. Fin clenched and unclenched his hands quickly, then looked down at Kraken.

“I guess that’s that.”