Elora heard the whistle of wood and dove to the left, her instincts screaming as she removed herself from the path of Tessa's singing blade. The Princess stumbled, very nearly losing her footing entirely. She caught herself before she hit the dirt, one hand scrambling to find purchase on the soft earth that made up Lilian's arena. She heard the sound again, the chiming bell of doom ringing in her ears, and clumsily rolled out of its path. She felt the air move above her head as she tumbled, climbing to her feet and spinning to meet Tess once more.

“Good. You can't account for the unsteadiness of the terrain beneath your feet. You have to adapt and overcome.”

Elora nodded solemnly even as adrenaline caused her hands to shake around the grip of her blade. It was an exact replica of Rionna, carved by Vera while on the road to Yeles. The sword had taken a battering over its weeks of use, but it was still holding up despite the many chips that ran its length. Tess had urged her to have the thing replaced more than once, but Elora had been staunchly against such action. While it was far from a perfect replica of her Weapon, the simple piece suited her perfectly fine, and she would be lying if she said she hadn't grown fond of Rionna's wooden imposter. One day she would wield the real thing and have the opportunity to admire her work in the physical world, but until that day arrived she would make do with what she had.

Tess gave Elora a blissful moment of rest before moving forward with that same grim and taciturn expression. Tessa's eyes were always analysing, always judging, looking for weakness in her opponent's every motion. Elora let out a held breath and made to join her, hoping to throw the mercenary off balance by taking the initiative. With a cry of exertion, Elora lashed out with her blade, both hands wrapped tightly around the wooden hilt. Tess knocked the blow aside with her own sword, the act almost casual, before she unleashed her own sequence of attacks that had the single intention of putting Elora on her back once again. An occurrence that seemed to be happening with increasing regularity since their sessions together began.

Elora retreated, defending as best as she could. It was an uphill battle, even with Tess holding back as much as she did. The Princess thought she'd known the extent of Tessa's fighting ability, having seen her spar with Boldrin and Orin many times while on the road, but after seeing her do battle with Lilian and Cassie she became painfully aware of just how much Tess held back when crossing swords with her. If she wished it, the battle could be over within the first second, a thought that was faintly frightening to the inexperienced Princess of Venos.

While Elora had known going in that the challenge she could provide to Tess as a warrior was next to non-existent, she couldn't help but feel disappointed that wasn't the case. Part of Elora had hoped she would be a prodigy with the sword, like the heroes in the tales of old. One fable that Elora had been particularly fond of as a girl was of a Lady from a faraway land who, after the death of her father, took up the sword to defend her country. She showed all that she was just as strong as the men, eventually marrying a handsome prince and becoming the defender of her homeland. It was a far-fetched and fantastical account of dragons, wizards and Knights, with no basis in reality, but that didn't stop it from capturing her childish imagination. Elora would often pretend to be that very heroine, brandishing a stick she'd found in the gardens and pretending it was a sword of legend. She would spar against her guard often, who played along at her whim, taking strikes to the chest and falling over dead as her younger self celebrated her victory.

The Princess' games came to a rather abrupt end when her education began under the watchful eye of the old matron, Miss Tully, but Elora would be lying if she said that some part of her didn't yearn for glory on the battlefield.

Of course, that was before she'd seen an actual battlefield, not the romanticized equivalent spoken of in myth. The real thing was far more visceral and terrifying. There was little glory to be found amid the mad scramble to beat your opponent. Elora herself had taken a life, and it was not at all how she imagined it would be. She still thought of that moment often, the feeling of her knife going through Craven's eye before reaching his brain, helped along by the man himself. More than one nightmare had been birthed from the killing of Hammond, all the more so after Boldrin revealed the truth about the yellow-eyed Knight's turbulent and pitiful past. Despite that, Elora had come to terms with the deed. Craven had threatened her Knight. He needed to die and the Princess accepted that. She'd also accepted the fact that she would most likely have to kill again.

At one time in her life, such a thought would have filled her with dread, but no longer. She was the Smith to an Heir, his First Throne, his wife. Elora's titles continued to grow in number, it seemed, but of all she'd accrued during her short life she could say that the last was the one for which she held the most pride. Elora grinned foolishly at that, her mind drifting to earlier in the morning, when she'd awoken to Orin staring down at her with serious eyes and a smile on his lips. This distraction proved to be a mistake that would cost her. Tess was quick to take advantage of Elora's fractured thoughts, slipping past her non-existent guard and slamming the pommel of her sword into the Princess' stomach.

Elora gasped in pain, as she clutched at her abdomen, her instinctive reaction being to swing her sword wildly to fend off the approaching mercenary. That worked about as well as could be expected. Tess weaved her way through Elora's clumsily constructed barrage and hammered the tip of her blade into the exact same spot that she'd struck the first time.

“Dead.”

Elora gasped in annoyance, growling at her Sister-Smith in what she wanted to be a menacing tone, knowing it was anything but. The Princess attacked, her senses once more under control as she threw an overhead swing at Tess, who easily deflected the blow. Elora blocked the retort, her focus and fear of pain having returned in full. She stepped forward, keeping her weight evenly distributed, as she'd been taught, and throwing her whole body into the next swing, one aimed for Tessa's sword arm.

The mercenary took a single step backward, the blade of Elora's longer sword brushing against the fabric of her tunic but failing to meet flesh. The sheer amount of strength the Princess had put behind the blow caused her to over-extend, the momentum of the blade demanding she follow through despite hitting nothing but air. Tess was quick to punish the mistake, slicing again into the very same spot she'd struck twice already.

“Dead.”

The agony compounded and Elora winced, her hand impulsively going to her chest and grip on her practice blade loosening. Before she could come fully back to her senses and banish the pain from her mind, her sword was suddenly sent soaring over to the very edge of Lilian's arena, where it stuck fast in the soft, darkened dirt of Dealanaich. Elora felt a soft tapping at her throat. She looked up into the face of her Sister-Smith, who shook her head in disappointment. The expression caused the Princess' face to fall.

“Dead. Three times in less than a minute.” Tess frowned as she pulled her blade away, pushing it into the dirt at her feet and leaning against the length of wood with an inquisitive expression on her face. “Where did you go wrong?”

This was the part of their sessions that Elora dreaded the most, having to analyse herself, to judge her weaknesses. The Princess didn't need to think on the fight for long to realise where she had gone wrong. “I became distracted, lost my focus.”

Tessa nodded immediately, “You did, and this isn't the first time. You need to keep your head in the fight, Elora. Distractions will get you killed.”

“I know,” Elora sighed in frustration, gritting her teeth as she scowled in the direction of her sword. “The heat's getting to me and we've been at this for hours. My mind drifted.”

Tess shook her head and bared a scowl of her own. “Excuses are bullshit, Princess. When you're fighting for your life an opponent won't wait for you to be comfortable. You must always be ready, always aware and prepared.”

“I get it, Tess.” Elora snapped, her frustration rising to the fore. She regretted it almost instantly. It wasn't Tessa's fault, she was just trying to help in her own way. It was Elora's shame of her failure which caused her to speak so caustically. “I'll get better.”

Tessa's expression softened as she leaned forward, punching Elora on the shoulder none too gently, a form of affection that she usually reserved for Orin alone. “I'm not saying this to put you down, idiot. You wanted to learn and I'm trying to be nice about it. Shit, I'd beat Orin into the ground before I even gave him a hint of how he was fucking up. You're getting it easy.”

Something about Tessa's awkward attempt to spare her Sister-Smith's feelings caused Elora's bad mood to evaporate as she laughed. The fact that she even tried to do so showed just how much their relationship had grown since that fistfight on the way to Dunwellen. Well, hardly a fight considering how one-sided the match was, but still. “Orin says the same. He grumbles about it sometimes. Why do you teach us differently?”

Tess shrugged. “Orin grew up with pain. It's a teacher to him, shows him what's right and what's wrong. He learns faster when he's being beaten because he's a stubborn bastard who doesn't like to lose. Boldrin noticed it first, told me not to hold back while fighting him 'cause it was the only way he'd learn. You're the opposite. Beating you to a pulp would serve no purpose. You need your hand held.”

The last line was said with a smirk on Tessa's face but Elora didn't take offence, rolling her eyes at the little joke before glancing at her sword once more. Mirth gave way to disappointment as the reason she was distracted in the first place came to the fore. “I just thought I'd be further along by now. I keep thinking I'm improving, but its almost impossible to tell.”

“You are improving, Elora. I see it everyday.”

“But I don't... I don't feel it.”

Elora sighed, unable to explain herself succinctly. Trying to explain her childish dream of being a great warrior was hardly likely to pull at the mercenary's heartstrings. Better she kept that particular fantasy to herself. It had only recently resurfaced, after all. She hadn't even told Orin.

“You're trying to force yourself to get better faster, but that's not how this works. Remember what you told me? About Forging a Weapon, about becoming better as a Smith? It takes time, Elora. I may be stronger in a fight, but you are still the better Smith, and I don't see that changing anytime soon.”

“I don't know about that,” Elora said, unconvinced. “You've improved so much since we've come to Nian.”

It was true. Since managing to summon Second Sword without Orin's aid, Tess had thrown herself back into training like a ravenous wolf, hungry for the knowledge her family harboured. She even actively engaged with Theadora, asking questions and answering them with not a single awkward silence, which had been the norm during their initial session together. Her control and direction of the Gifts under their command had also drastically improved. She wasn't quite as good as Elora yet, but she wasn't very far off. It was difficult not to feel intimidated by such rapid progress. Orin, too, had been improving immensely under Mastan's tutelage, learning new ways to grow as an Heir and creating his own style of combat. The Princess couldn't help but feel that, of the three of them, she was the one who had grown the least since arriving in Nian. She knew that was mostly down to the fact that both Orin and Tess had teachers who might as well have been tailor made for their abilities, but that didn't make it any easier to accept. She'd been trying her best to make something of the Dark, believing that there was some crumb of knowledge in her father's book which could provide the answer to the question of how to utilise their secondary Element, but she'd yet to make any real headway.

Even in combat, Elora couldn't say she'd grown all that much. There was the one moment when they sparred on the boat that the Princess felt like everything just clicked, but since then she'd been unable to repeat the feat of making Tess actually fight her without holding back. She was rather ashamed to admit it, but she was more than a little jealous of her Sister-Smith, and in more ways than one. The fact that Tess had managed to use a Technique alone and without help from Orin only hammered that feeling home.

She was proud of them both, more than proud. They were finding their way, showing their mettle as Knight and Smith, but the ease with which they overcame the obstacles set before them was intimidating.

Elora bit back the irritation at her own lack of progress and made her way over to the stuck fast sword, freeing it from the earth easily enough and hefting it in hand. The weight of it was strangely comforting now, whereas in the beginning it had been almost too heavy for her to carry. She swung it experimentally, listening to the sword as it cut the air with a dull thump that made her feel just a little bit better.

She was falling behind. Elora needed to improve, and soon. At the very least, she needed to find a path to follow that was her own. Tess had her way of doing things and Orin had his, but she remained... aimless. All her progress so far could be chalked up to natural talent and a goodly amount of luck. She was more than willing to put the work in, to grow, to become stronger, but she didn't know how.

“Elora,” Tessa's voice was hesitant as the Princess turned to her. Tess had taken great strides in being more open and empathetic, but didn't mean acting that way came easier to her. This was especially apparent when surrounded by her sisters. Oftentimes her Sister-Smith would fall silent, intimidated by the press of family around her, but she was trying. Even in that small way, Tess continued to improve. “Like I said, you need to follow your own advice.”

“Give it time?” Elora smiled sadly. “I'm afraid that while I might be good at giving advice, I'm hardly the best at following it.”

“And I am neither,” Tess chortled, “But it worked. When I was fighting Cassie, I stopped worrying about everything. I stopped thinking about my Weapon, my Element, my skill as a Smith, all the shit that's clogged up my head for months. It was just me and the sword.”

“So I just need to stop worrying? You and Orin are are both getting stronger so quickly. I'm still stuck in the same place. I just feel like I'm letting you both down. The more I think like that, the faster I want to push forward, to reach my limits and go beyond them.”

“Now that's just bullshit. I don't think you can let anyone down, it's a pretty annoying quirk of yours. You need to be patient, and you need to stop comparing yourself to me and Orin,” Tess replied sharply as she rapped her sword against the top of the Princess' skull, giving Elora cause to clutch her head with a wince.

“What do you mean?” Elora asked, rubbing the spot Tess had struck gingerly as she glared at her Sister-Smith with an expression that was part reproachful and part curious.

“We've been doing this our whole lives, Elora,” Tess muttered almost bitterly as she stared into space. “Battle is our blood and bone.”

“I know that.”

Tess shook her head. “No, you don't. But that's a good thing.”

The Princess frowned at that, “I don't understand, Tess.”

Tessa placed a hand against her skull, closing her eyes as though trying to stall the coming of a headache. “Spirit, I'm no good at speaking like this. You're the one whose supposed to be giving the annoyingly upbeat speeches, not me.”

Elora couldn't help but smile at that, beaming at her Sister-Smith and laughing, “You don't have to keep going. I appreciate you trying, but-”

“You see?” Tess cut in with a roll of her eyes. “Annoying. Even now you're trying to make me feel better. It's irritating.”

“...Sorry?”

“You're forgiven,” Tess grumbled with the barest hint of a smile. “But that's exactly what I'm talking about. You aren't like me and Orin. You had a good life, a good home. I get why it was difficult to be the Princess of Venos, but if you compare it to how Orin and I grew up the difference is night and day.

“I know I didn't train like you both did. I know I didn't experience the same things, didn't face the same problems,” Elora said softly, faintly defensive as she raised her eyes to meet Tessa's own. “But that doesn't mean I have less to offer. I can help, I can fight, I can-”

“Oh, for fuck's sake, Elora, I already know all that,” Tess said, exasperated. “The problem is that you don't!”

The Princess blinked, “What?”

“Just... Come with me a second. I need to sit down. This emotional shit doesn't come naturally.”

Tess sighed and indicated for Elora to follow her over to the seats ringing the arena. The sun had long since past noon, thankfully, so the two Smiths didn't have to fear being burnt to a crisp, but that didn't make the experience all that comfortable. Once out of the shelter of the pavilion, Elora felt the heat of Ragora beat down upon her head, making her sweat instantly and causing her discomfort to become all the more pronounced. While the Princess didn't spend all that much time outside the Nest, the few times she'd journeyed into the daylight had left its mark upon her skin. She was a shade darker now, her skin having taken on a healthy sheen. She almost laughed to herself as she thought of what effect her new skin colour would have on the Venosian Court. The more sycophantic among the Nobility would no doubt seek to emulate her, as they often did when she was growing up in Myrin, despite the stigma associated with darkened skin. Many of the upper echelons believed that pale skin denoted wealth and influence, for it meant you'd never had to work a day in your life, relying on the money of your established House. It was a corrupt and out-dated way of thinking, but one which was common enough to even effect her father, who was from Venos' southern border with Andapa and grew up in the year-round sun. He'd lost much of his colour over the years thanks to Myrin's dour climate, but enough remained that several prominent Nobles liked to spread rumours of his common heritage behind his back. Her mother had put a swift end to such talk upon their marriage, but the lies persisted nonetheless. Julian had never been particularly effected by the talk, nor did he believe in silly and childish superstitions, but it had irked Elora to no end knowing that the King of Venos was spoken of in such a manner.

She imagined that quite a few heads would explode if the House of Hymns could see her now, a thought which gave Elora no small pleasure. In truth, she quite enjoyed her warm tan, believing it made her seem less like the child she had so recently been and more like the warrior and Smith that she now was. But that wasn't the only physical change that Elora was experiencing. She'd first noticed it on their first night in Yelmora, when she'd stepped from the baths at the August Estate and caught sight of herself in a mirror.

Elora had muscles. Even thinking it gave her a small thrill.

They were small, barely even noticeable, but for one who was as critical of her appearance as Elora, the change was spied instantly. Her arms seemed firmer, a hint of definition deep within that was beginning to rise to the surface, her stomach, shoulders and legs the same. Her face also seemed more sculpted, older, and there was something different about her eyes. Some of the innocence she'd once held, some of the old beliefs she'd once known true, had been stripped away and replaced by a pale shadow of the wisdom and hardness that she often saw in her mother's steady gaze. Elora didn't know when it had happened, but she'd changed and for the better as far as she was concerned. The Princess of Venos was still a far cry from having anything resembling the lithe form of Tess or the hardened warrior that was Vera, but it was a start. Her growth had only continued during their time in Nian, even the smallest of changes causing Elora to beam with pleasure. While she couldn't tell for certain how much she'd grown as a warrior, she couldn't argue with the impressive results the training had wrought upon her body. If nothing else, it made her feel less like a pretender. No longer was she a tourist with sword in hand.

“You try too hard.” Tess said finally, after a few minutes of silence had passed between the duo as they became accustomed to the harsh beat of the sun.

Elora looked to her Sister-Smith in confusion. “I try too hard? I don't think that's true, Tess. I'm not getting stronger as fast as I should be. I mean, look at you. You've grown so much since Myrin, since being with the band. As a Smith, you're almost as good at control as I am, not to mention Second Sword. There's also the fact that you can let Orin out of your sight for a time when before-”

“You think I could've done any of that without you?” Tess asked briskly, her tone almost threatening as she leaned forward. Elora focused on the spirit of her words rather than her rather aggressive physicality. She knew Tess well enough to know that any form of openness usually resulted in her falling back on her predatory nature, a defensive measure to keep the world out. “Elora, you've been helping me along since Orin and I Bonded. Spirit knows you didn't have to, especially after what I tried to pull in Paldrum. You could've frozen me out completely, could've decided you wanted nothing to do me and I would have deserved it. I've been thinking about that a lot recently, about how much you've helped me. I couldn't say that if I was in your place I'd have been as understanding. You've taken time out of your own training to help me with my own, to make me a better Smith and have helped to keep me calm when... when I lose myself.”

Tess stopped then, almost as though she was unable to continue. The mercenary's hair falling in front of her eyes, no doubt something the warrior would rectify soon. The Princess was well aware of Tessa's need to avoid being distracted in battle.

“The truth is, you've helped me with a lot of shit, Princess. If you weren't Orin's Smith, I doubt I'd be what I am, so thank you. You're a good teacher and, Spirit damn you, a better friend.”

Tessa spat out the word with such venom that it almost sounded like a curse even as she flushed to her roots in embarrassment, pouting sullenly into the air as though the whole conversation had soured. Yet Elora had the opposite reaction, her shock quickly fading and replaced by a bountiful joy that lifted up her flagging spirits. Her hands twitched in her lap, Elora's need to hug her Sister-Smith in that moment so great that it almost consumed her but the Princess stayed her hand.

She'd felt much the same way upon hearing Tess introduce both she and Orin as family after they'd arrived in Nian, but there still existed an odd disconnect between the Princess and the mercenary. While they had become far more comfortable in each other's company, especially in recent days as they trained almost exclusively together, Elora believed they still stood on somewhat unsure footing in regards to their own relationship. To hear Tess openly acknowledge their budding friendship made the smile on Elora's face grow all the wider even as Tessa's grimace became all the more pronounced.

“But,” Tess stressed the word and Elora's grin faltered at the mercenary's tone. “You try too hard. You want to help me, you want to help Orin. Shit, you want to help everyone you meet. It's nauseating.”

Elora didn't really know what to say to that. “Tess, I don't think I-”

“You need to be more selfish, Princess, just a bit. You think because you grew up in a palace you need to prove yourself over and over again, but that ain't true. You've already done it a hundred times over. You seem to believe you have less to offer than I do, but you're the one who keeps Orin sane, keeps him right. I can't do that. You focus on my progress, on Orin's progress, often at your own expense. You can afford to think about yourself once and a while. You remember what I said in Myrin?”

Elora's brow fell, “I remember. I lead, you follow.”

“Aye, but I didn't mean all the Spirit-damned time,” Tess chortled as she got to her feet, patting at the dust on her breeches. “We're here to help you as well, Elora. You don't have to take all of our problems on as your own. Saying that, you're Orin's First Throne and, despite what you think, you're doing a damn good job of it.”

Elora fought hard to keep her expression even as she stared at her Sister-Smith. Tessa's tirade seemed to have come to an end and the mercenary now stood there, gazing at the arena in which they'd trained only moments earlier.

“Tess, I don't know what to say.”

Tess chuckled, “Then say nothing. This is the last little speech you get from me. Shit, it hurts my jaw talking this much. Now, as for the reason you aren't feeling like you're getting any better, that's easy. It's because you're constantly distracted by a thousand different thoughts, like flies on a carcass. If you just took a moment, just focused on the fight like you did on the ship, you would understand how wrong you are and what you've become. From now on, when we practice, you don't think of anything but the sword in your hand and the one in mine. From now on, when we fight, you're gonna be selfish.”

“I will.” Elora got to her feet, hefting the blade in hand as she looked into the mercenary's eyes, not flinching from the sharpness she saw there. “I swear it.”

Tess grinned, “Good. Now we-”

“Good afternoon!”

The voice caused Tessa's expression to falter for half a second as her eyes shot to the entrance to Lilian's arena. For the briefest of moments, Elora saw the hints of humanity fall away and be replaced by sheer, savage intent as Tess embraced her violent nature. Just as quickly as it appeared, it fell away, replaced by a shy, almost vulnerable, smile. The Princess couldn't help but shiver at the suddenness of the change. It was a reminder once more that while Tess had come far since her days of stalking Orin through the Commons and hunting those who preyed upon him, that part of her was far from gone. As to who had disturbed their session, that too could be discerned from Tessa's change.

Tilia D'viritazi waved brightly from atop the steps, beaming at the duo as she carried a picnic basket in hand. She was accompanied by the heavily pregnant Dawn, who carried nothing but the child in her belly as she joined her sister at the arena's entrance. She too, smiled brightly as she carefully navigated the steps, helped along by Tilia. Tess rushed to do the same, offering her hand to her sister, who took a hold gratefully.

“Thank you, Tessa,” Dawn intoned softly, her voice carrying a caring and matronly tone, one which reminded the Princess of Sister Erin in many ways. Dawn herself was gorgeous, as all the D'viritazi siblings were, but something about her seemed more mature than her other sisters, even those older like Freida, Lilian and Cassie. “Tilia has been pulling me around the Nest for hours now. My feet are killing me.”

“Now you complain,” Tilia rolled her eyes as she placed the basket on the hot earth and joined Tess in helping sit their sister upon the spot that the mercenary and the Princess had recently vacated. “I kept saying you didn't have to join me.

“And unleash you unfettered upon the world without supervision?” Dawn dead-panned, her lips pulling up slightly and eyes dancing with mirth. “Even I am not so cruel.”

“A tad over-dramatic but I see your point,” Tilia reasoned with a sagely nod before she burst into life once more, throwing her arms around Tessa's neck in greeting. Elora swore the girl sometimes seemed like she was made of energy, bouncing off the walls with enthusiasm. Honestly, it often caught the Princess up in her web. She could definitely understand why Tilia was the public face of the D'viritazi, her very nature demanded that she be seen, acknowledged. She was also the baby of the family, mothered intensely by Freida and Dawn.

“Princess Elora! A pleasure as always, your Highness,” Tilia curtseyed before Elora gracefully, her elegance apparent even to the Princess of Venos, “How goes training? Did you beat Tess today?”

“It isn't about winning, Tilia,” Tess said, her voice quiet and but a shadow of what it was when speaking to her Sister-Smith. “Elora is learning to stand as a warrior.”

“I know, I know, but I still believe you can do it,” Tilia winked at the Princess who couldn't help but laugh in return, consumed by the all-encompassing power of the young woman's presence.

“If even Lady Cassandra cannot beat Tess, then I believe I am not much challenge.” Elora replied with a chuckle. She meant the simple quip to be a joke, yet Tess gave her an annoyed stare out of the corner of her eye, one which was gone as fast as it appeared. The Princess frowned at her Sister-Smith, but when Tess continued to fix Tilia with her attention she did the same. In an attempt to quell the bad feeling that the look had given cause to rise in Elora, she engaged Tilia once more. “Have you been busy today, Lady Tilia?”

“Oh, not at all. We tried to bring Freida, but she and Deirdric are spending some time together in the city. They really can't take their hands off each other.” Tilia wrinkled her nose at that, shivering. “I have... seen things.”

“Now whose being over-dramatic?” Dawn chuckled before looking to Tess and Elora, “Deirdric's father rarely gives him time outside of the family library. He and Freida are taking advantage of the day. You have to spend time with your loved ones when you can. Gods know I miss my William.”

“He's slated to return soon, isn't he?” Tess asked Dawn shyly. “I should like to meet him.”

Dawn took Tessa's hand in hers, eyes so filled with warmth and affection that they were fit to bursting. “I would like nothing more. You'll love him, he's very-”

“Rigid? Uncompromising?” Tilia butted in with a cheeky grin.

Dawn sighed, “He is that, yes, but he also very caring and loving. As you can tell, Tilia and William do not get on.”

“He called me childish.” Tilia pouted.

“Are you saying he was wrong?”

“Well... no. But you don't say that sort of thing out loud.”

Elora smiled as she watched the sisters bicker back and forth, ignoring the pang of jealousy in her chest as they did so. The Princess had often wished for siblings while growing up in Myrin, if only to have someone who could share in the loneliness her position had thrust upon her. Lilian, Freida, Cassie, Tilia and Dawn all had similar situations. They were not Princesses, at least not by title, but that mattered little on the Eastern Island. The D'viritazi Clan were widely regarded as the saviours of Ragora, the warriors who united the savage nomadic tribes that once called the island home and forged a merchant empire without equal in Ouros. When they first arrived, Elora hadn't quite understood just how highly held Tessa's family was in the hearts and minds of all Ragorans, but after spending some time in their library pouring over old tomes that documented D'viritazi history she now knew the sheer scope of it.

The difference between them was that they had someone to speak to, a family to rely on when their roles became overwhelming. They supported one another. It was something that Elora never had growing up. Gida was hardly the most attentive of parents and while her father did the best he could, he was a King. Julian's attention was often taken up by far more important matters than his lonely daughter.

Elora would be lying to herself if she said that seeing Tess reunite so well with her sisters didn't cause a small amount of bitterness to rise within her. She was happy for her Sister-Smith, she truly was, but it was difficult to look upon Tessa's caring sisters without feeling jealous of the fact that she'd never had the same. It was an insane thought, especially given Tessa's life after she left Nian for Venos. If anyone deserved a little happiness, it was her, yet Elora couldn't help thinking it regardless.

The Princess' guilt was made all the greater by just how welcoming the D'viritazi siblings had been to her upon arrival, thanks in no small part due to Tess herself. Elora had been accepted by them without question. There was still a level of awkwardness between them and that was to be expected. After all, until a few months ago all of them had believed their sister was dead. Now she was resurrected, returning home with a Knight and Sister-Smith in tow. Despite that, relations were steadily improving. Elora got on especially well with Lady Freida, the woman reminding her much of herself in many ways. The Princess could discuss teas and fashion with the gentle woman for days if needed, surprising herself with the amount of enthusiasm she had for the topics. She hadn't spoken of such trivial matters in what seemed an age, and used to hate doing so when still in Venos, but now that the chance to relive such times had reared its head Elora threw herself headlong into the discussions. It was nice to talk about something other than Smithing Techniques or battle strategies, if only for a while.

It was a return to normalcy in many ways. Elora didn't miss the life she had in Venos before meeting Orin, but now that her life as a 'simple' Princess of the realm was effectively over she had an odd sense of nostalgia for days gone by. It was strange really. When she was living it, Elora hated the luncheons and balls, the sycophants and courtiers. She despised meeting Nobles at the request of her parents, the back-talk and political manoeuvring. She'd had a fondness for the game itself when she'd first begun to play, for the web spun in an elegant conversation, for a victory won through a particular piercing insult dressed as a compliment, but that had faded as the years went by. Yet now that it was all over she couldn't help but miss the intensity of life at Court, the thousands of eyes that were always upon her, judging her. Perhaps it was because she thrived in that kind of environment, whereas in Ragora the Princess was very much out of her depth. In the Nest, there was no ebb and flow of politics and power. There was only Mastan. He was the centre of this place, far more even than her mother and father were in their palace in Myrin. The servants and guards had sworn oaths to serve for the remainder of their lives, a promise bound in Inscription, a compact which was willingly entered. It was seen as one of the highest honours possible to serve Ragora's first family. Not only did the position bring prestige and wealth, it also elevated social standing. Elora had read that a servant of the D'viritazi would be the equivalent of a lesser Noble in Venos, a fact so odd that it had taken the Princess aback.

Tilia herself had told Elora of a ceremony she had been part of only three days prior, with two new guards and six servants joining the fold. A member of the D'viritazi Clan was expected to be in attendance to accept the oath, so Tilia stood there and accepted their fealty, telling the Princess of how more than one of those present began to weep as she finished speaking. Not from fear, nor from pain, but joy.

Ragora was certainly a strange place, and the D'viritazi family held an equally odd position within its structure. On the face of it, they seemed to have no power at all, with Mastan only holding the title of a lesser Lord, but that was far from the truth. Honestly, after learning all of this Elora was surprised that the daughters of Mastan and Theadora were as well adjusted as they were. As much as Elora had been loved and adored in Venos, she'd never been treated like she was... sacred.

“Ah, but enough of all that,” Tilia said, raising her chin into the air as she stared down smugly at her sitting sister. Dawn glowered, though it was apparent to both Tess and Elora that it was anything but serious. “We can speak of your lovely, straight as an arrow husband another time.”

“He is not-”

“I found wine!” Tilia cut through her sister's words with aplomb, reaching into her picnic basket and pulling free a dusty old bottle of red that she held into the air like it was made of solid gold. “Not the swill they serve you with dinner, but something exquisite and bottled nearly one hundred years ago in the Free City of Heltos. They call this particular vintage sun-fire wine. I've been sneaking it away from the cellar since I was a girl. It's mother's favourite, so you mustn't tell.”

Tilia glared at the three women then, clutching the bottle to her chest like it was a newborn babe. When no evidence of potential betrayal became evident on their faces, the trickster's smile returned in full force as she liberated the glasses from the basket in quick succession and placed them beside Dawn on the pew. “A tipple, Lady Tessaraina? Princess Elora?”

“I think I might abstain, Lady Tilia,” Elora said respectfully, glancing warily the wine in her hand. Perhaps the Princess was not far off when comparing the bottle to gold. Elora had heard of sun-fire wine before. Apparently her father had once tried while trying to find a vintage for his wedding to her mother many years ago. When he was told the price, he spat the wine back up and told the seller to get out. She was tempted to try some, but decided quickly that her training took precedence. “Tessa and I had yet to finish our bout. Perhaps after we have finished?”

“I'll also say no,” Tess followed up with a scowl at the bottle. “I've never handled drink well. If I have even a glass, Elora might beat me.”

Tilia looked near tears as she batted her eyelashes at the duo pathetically. Despite knowing it was a trick, Elora was very nearly pulled into the obviously laid trap. If not for Tess giving her a pointed stare, she may very well have done just that. The Princess took notes on the expression regardless. She would try it on Orin later.

“Please? Dawn doesn't drink, you see, even when she is not with child and Lilian only drinks that sickening honeyed ale. Cassie feels the same way about wine as she does about everything that does not include some form stabbing someone.”

“I told you they wouldn't be interested,” Dawn smirked.

“Dawnie, I love you, but I feel like you're trying to ruin my buzz before I've even got so far as to have one yet.” Tilia snapped.

“Afterwards, Lady Tilia, I promise.” Elora said insistently, smiling brightly at the young woman. “Tess and I only have to finish our bout.”

“Is that sun-fire wine I spy?” A voice from the entrance pulled the four women away from their conversation as they fixed their eyes on the new arrivals. Elora felt a hint of annoyance rise in her chest. While she very much enjoyed the presences of Dawn and Tilia, she would also like to try and put what Tess told her into action before the sun went down. The sisters had a habit of causing the hours to wile away when they arrived. This was through no fault of their own, they were just genuinely interesting and engaging people.

The Princess fully expected it to be Freida, or perhaps even Lilian returned early from her duties to join them. However, she only recognised one of the two newcomers and the one Elora did know she'd met only the once.

Niari of House Kiden waved at the quartet as she made her way delicately down the steps. The man who accompanied her stood at the entrance still, not following in his companion's wake. His eyes were locked to Tess and nothing else, his face growing pale and his body rigid.

Before Elora could discern the reason for the man's sudden affliction, Niari filled her sight. The young woman sported a wide smile as she laughed in the direction of Tilia, shaking her head in a chastising manner. “My Lady, your mother will have your head if she discovers you've taken another of her supply. She has so few bottles as it is.”

“Niari, you are the head of my household and, as such, are required by your oath to do exactly what I say.” Tilia wagged a finger in the Lady's face as her servant curtseyed before her. “You will tell no one of what you saw here.”

“I wouldn't dream of it, Lady Tilia,” Niari bowed her head contritely. “I'm hardly one to talk, I've stolen one or two of those bottles myself.”

“Niari!” The second arrival hissed at the young woman desperately, Niari's words dragging him from the stupor he'd been in. He was a tall man, handsome, with blonde hair and green eyes that were a match for the Lady of House Kiden standing before them. Elora knew then who the man must be. He'd been wearing armour during their last encounter, but given familiar way he spoke to Niari he could only be Roland, grandson of Arno Kiden.

Roland bowed from the waist to Tess, Dawn and Tilia, his hands shaking as he clasped them together desperately. “Forgive my sister, my Ladies. She knows not what she says. Niari would never steal from your family.”

“Oh, stop that, Roland. They all know us here. Well, all save one.” Niari turned to Elora, offering another curtsey though it was far shallower than the one given to Tilia. Perhaps it was meant as a slight, but Elora did not believe that was the case. In this instance, her title as Princess was worth far less than Tilia's title of Lady. “A pleasure to see you again, Princess Elora. I must apologise once again for my behaviour when last we spoke. Roland had been hurt, you see. He's a fool at times, but he is still my brother.”

“Think no more on it, Lady Niari,” Elora said with a polite nod of her head, showing her respect to the young woman. “There were more than a few heated exchanges the day we arrived.”

“Thank you, your graciousness does you credit, Highness.” Niari looked to Tess then, her grin shimmering for a moment, weakening. Elora understood why. According to Tessa, she, Niari and Roland had been friends when they were children. It must be awkward for the siblings of House Kiden to see her again after so long, having no idea how to act in each other's company.

Tess, for her part, didn't seem to care less. Instead she nodded to Niari and Roland in turn, completely at ease. “It is good to see you both again.”

“And you, Tessa,” Niari said brightly. “I've wanted to come and see you these past days but thought to give you time to settle with your sisters. My grandfather claims I am a rather disruptive presence, much like Lady Tilia. It was the reason I was named the head of her household, you see. I believe that the intent was for us to destroy each other with the sheer magnitude of our combined personalities.”

“And we very nearly did,” Tilia snapped, glaring at the young woman. “You nearly blew a trade deal worth thousands of gold. I was forced to have dinner with Baron Forrest's son because of the debacle you caused. Have you seen Brandon Forrest recently? The man is the size of a whale, he needed servants to help him stand up! Lady Milton saw me dine with that monster. Lady Milton! The Ladies in the High Lord's Court were raving about it for months!”

“I'm sorry, my Lady. I truly didn't mean it! I tripped!” Niari moaned, “How long must I be punished? When I can I join you on outings again?”

“Never!” Tilia declared.

Niari deflated.

“Lady Tessaraina, it is a pleasure to see you again under... well, better circumstances.” Roland Kiden began awkwardly as he took his place beside his sister. Niari still stared at the ground dejectedly, gazing up at Tilia, who pointedly ignored her efforts.

“And you, Roland,” Tess replied with a firm nod. A pregnant silence followed. Dawn, Tilia and even the downcast Niari were watching both Tessa and Roland, though for what reason Elora could only begin to guess. “Have you been well?”

“I have, my Lady,” Roland stated. “I am your father's personal champion now, though the role is little more than ceremonial. As you know, Lord Mastan has no need of a protector. Still, I enjoy the work and once every week he instructs me in the sword. It is invigorating, never before have I seen such skill.”

“Yes, my Sister-Smith and I are painfully aware of how great a combatant my father truly is.”

The sheer disdain that Tess held in her voice when she spoke of Mastan clearly took Roland aback, the young man coughing into his hand to fill in the pause that followed. “And what of you, my Lady? Have you been well?”

“Yes, I am well.” Tessa's brutally simple reply killed all chance of the conversation continuing, which was not unusual for the mercenary. Tess was well known for only speaking when required. The only reason she'd been more vocal as of late was because of her family, after all. Elora, however, was far more taken by the reactions of Dawn, Niari and Tilia. All three seemed to be watching the duo intently, as though waiting for something to happen. A nervousness permeated their every movement, their skittering back and forth between Roland and Tessa. Elora was missing something, yet she couldn't discern what it was.

Finally unable to take the uncomfortable air that followed Tessa's response, Elora quickly introduced herself to the young man, hoping to break the ice that was already beginning to form, “Greetings, Roland Kiden. I am Princess Elora of Venos. It is an honour to formally meet you.”

“And you, your Highness,” Roland smiled thankfully, bowing at the waist to Elora, “ I must say, you are just as beautiful as the stories claim you to be. There is much talk of you at the docks. Thank you for forgiving Niari. She has told me little of what she did, but I can only assume she downplayed her wrongdoing immensely, as she is so often guilty of doing. My sincerest apologies for any slight she may have given you.”

“No apologies are necessary, Lord Roland,” Elora continued, returning to her customary persona of Princess in an instant, hands clasped delicately at the waist. It was difficult to appear royal while wearing breeches and a tunic but after practising in a mirror for a time, Elora was not displeased with the results. “It was a tense time. I'm glad to see you have recovered from your bout with my husband.”

“Bout might be overstating it, your Highness,” Roland laughed, warming up by the moment. “But thank you for your kind words. I shamed myself with my performance. A ceremonial warrior I may be, but a warrior nonetheless. I can't help but think I let Lord Mastan down with my display.”

“Nonsense, Roland,” Dawn spoke up for the young man, gifting him with a kind smile as she fondly pressed a hand to her bump. “You are as a son to father in many ways. He would never hold such a thing against you.”

“Perhaps not, my Lady,” Roland replied, clearly embarrassed as red touched his cheeks. “But I can't help but hold it against myself. Such a sound defeat was... humbling. I remember nothing beyond being lifted off of my feet. Your husband is a very strong man, your Highness.”

“The strongest in all the world,” Elora said quietly, feeling her soul resonate with the words as they spoke to the Strength that even now sat in Orin's inner soul. She felt the Bond shiver, a reminder of the oath she had made, the belief she held in her heart.

Orin touched the Bond briefly, concerned. Elora smiled at his touch but was quick to put whatever fears he harboured to rest. The Princess had long since been aware of her husband's sensitivity to any change in the Bond, and was always ready to set his mind at ease if he sensed some disturbance across their connection. Given the way Tess stiffened after Orin retreated, he clearly reached out to her as well. Tessa wasn't as practiced as her Sister-Smith in hiding the signs of Orin's touch. She settled a moment later the beginnings of a smile on her face as she looked to Elora. The two met eyes in silent acknowledgement of Orin's presence before both returned their attentions to the warrior from House Kiden.

“You shouldn't be ashamed, Roland,” Tess stated bluntly, drawing the eyes of all in attendance. “There is no guard in father's employ that could defeat Orin. There is no shame in being beaten by a greater warrior.”

Elora saw Roland's smile slip then, his body bristling as he glared at the ground at his feet. A great anger began to radiate out of the man, one which Elora could almost feel it was so palpable, but the Princess did not believe that the anger was aimed towards Orin. Given the look of self-deprecation that was etched into his features, it was clear that Roland Kiden blamed no one for his defeat but himself. “I heard much of Lord Orin's prowess during my recovery. My anger towards him was great in the beginning, this I admit, but after learning of his skill I will admit that the defeat I suffered was not shameful. However... I am not willing to let him walk away with the victory.”

Niari cleared her throat dramatically, tapping her chin and spouting a cheeky grin as she winked at the mercenary and the Princess. “My Lady, your Highness, I'm afraid I must apologise once more. Roland and I did not come in search of you, though that is a welcome bonus. My brother is aggrieved and believes his performance in the Great Hall has tarnished his honour. He wishes to meet Lord Orin once more in combat.”

The lack of surprise felt by Elora and Tessa was deafening. It was clear that Roland had other intentions when he arrived, the first sign being him staying at the door to Lilian's arena, frozen in place and staring at Tess as though he hadn't thought to find her there. He also had the air of purpose about him, one which may have been disrupted by the presence of Elora's Sister-Smith but was in no way diminished. Even if that wasn't enough, Niari herself had warned days earlier that Roland would wish to match his blade against Orin again.

“You will lose, Roland,” Tess raised a brow, her confusion shining through. “Just as you did last time.”

Roland immediately shook his head, his blonde curls bouncing as he did so. His mouth was fixed in a firm line, his eyes just as hard. Elora could see the warrior in the man, the hardened muscle telling a story of intense training, but that was all. Elora was not yet able to discern the level of skill a fighter possessed by their mere presence, but she was adept enough to know that this man posed no threat to her Knight. Orin was...

...Well, Orin was Orin.

“You cannot know that for certain, my Lady,” Roland said formally as he wrapped a hand around the finely wrought hilt at his hip. “Much has changed since we were children. When you left for Venos, I took up the sword with the intention of one day joining you across the sea. When news of your death reached us, it broke my heart, but I continued to fight onwards. I swore myself to your family's protection, because I was unable to offer my blade in dedication to your service. I have bled and toiled over years to become strong enough to stand at your father's side. Ceremonial my position may be, but that does not mean I lack teeth.

If Roland spoke with the intention of moving Tessa with poetic words, he would be sorely disappointed. Elora glanced at her Sister-Smith, taking in the impassive stare she gave in response to Roland's flowery speech. “I'm sorry you thought you had to fight for me, Roland. I didn't want that, nor did I need it.”

“Yet I did it regardless,” The man was becoming emotional, his hold on the hilt of his sword so fierce that his knuckles turned white. “As the one who was chosen to be your Knight, I would face the man who holds that title.”

An audible gasp left Tilia's lips as she immediately returned her stare to Tess, as did Dawn and Niari, each searching for some kind of reaction. Elora, too, looked to Tessa, though the mercenary was predictably unmoved by the declaration. The Princess herself had a far more visceral reaction.

“Roland was to be your Knight?” Elora asked dumbly, meaning for the question to be quiet but unfortunately finding that it emerged from her lips louder than intended. Tess grimaced in response, all but glaring at the man standing before her.

“Yes. When we were seven.” Tess replied flatly, followed swiftly by an annoyed sigh. “I was a Smith and a D'viritazi. You know what that's like, Princess. A bunch of Nobles came to the Nest wanting their kids to Bond with me.”

Elora didn't know why she was so taken aback by Roland's announcement. Of course Tess would have been courted by many different potential Knights. Elora had much the same thing happen to her when her Smithing potential was uncovered. It was just strange to think of Tess being Bound to anyone that wasn't Orin.

“Grandfather and Lord Mastan had all but confirmed that Roland was to be Tessa's Knight,” Niari spoke up, directing her words to Elora, “They were already close as children, so the match seemed an obvious one. Then the Heir was discovered in Venos and Lady Tessaraina left for Myrin almost as soon as the news reached Nian.”

Tess narrowed her eyes at the young man and woman, her jaw clenched and a hint of rage flaring in her eyes. “I would be careful with your next words, Niari. I would hate to believe that you think I owe your brother something because of a discussion between our families ten years ago.”

“It isn't that, my Lady,” Roland was quick to settle Tessa's ire. “You owe me nothing, and I did not come with the intention of dredging up some ancient oath.”

“That's nice,” Tess smiled sweetly, though it did not reach her stormy stare. “We were friends once, Roland, and while I remember little of those times, what memories I do recall are good ones. I would hate to have to kill you for being an idiot.”

The suddenness of the threat caused all present to freeze, including Tessa's sisters. Roland shivered involuntarily, averting his gaze from Elora's Sister-Smith. The Princess couldn't help but feel some sliver of pity for the man. To be the focus of Tessa's wrath was no small thing, and holding her steely eyes when they were filled with violence was a hard task. Only Boldrin and Orin were capable of the feat.

“I remember those times as well, Rainie,” Roland began gently, his stare still averted. “You were kind, brave, the leader of our little trio when we went on our adventures. I know you are not the same person you were when you left for Venos, but as your friend I would make sure that the man you have chosen as your Knight is good enough to claim as much.”

Tessa's lip curled as though she smelled something foul on the air. “So you do not wish to fight Orin to reclaim your honour, but because you claim he has to prove himself? To you? Don't make me fucking laugh.”

Roland smiled weakly, clearly taken aback by Tessa's caustic tone. “Can it not be both?”

Quiet followed as Tess glared at the man. Elora was positive that the mercenary was about to shout the man down, or beat him to a pulp herself, yet she did not. Instead Tessa took in Roland, her eyes so penetrating that he began to shift in place, uncomfortable with the analytical stare. After a few silent moments Tess nodded to herself, almost as though she had come to a decision. She looked to Elora then, meeting the Princess' bewildered stare and holding it.

Elora had played this game before. If she looked away then she lost. No words were ever uttered during these exchanges but much was said despite that fact. She fixed her jaw and raised her chin, staring deeply into Tessa's eyes and refusing to flinch. She didn't know why the mercenary would do such a thing now, but the Princess knew that looking away would mean being diminished in Tess' opinion of her.

After a handful of heartbeats, Tessa grinned and nodded to Elora reassuringly. The Princess sighed in relief, the game having come to an end and earning her a small victory. She winced when Tess' hand came down upon her shoulder, gripping it tightly as she addressed Roland once more.

“Fine. If you wish to fight then a fight you shall have. I will convince Orin to fight you, but not without proof of your prowess. To reach my Knight, you must fight his Smith.” Tess smiled, eyes dancing with intent as she examined the young man as though he was prey. “What say you, Roland, to a friendly spar?”

It was as though life returned to the man. His wary expression transformed into one of joy as he spread his arms wide. “I would happily cross swords with you, Rainie. All have heard of your defeat of Cassie and Lilian. It was hard to believe at first, so far removed from the Tessaraina I once knew, but I would like very much to test myself against your might. I wish to know if the stories are-”

“You misunderstand,” Tessa's smile became painful as she winked at her Sister-Smith. Elora felt her heart drop into her stomach, already realising Tess' intent. “You will fight the Princess. If you win, Orin will battle you. If you lose, he won't bother.”

Roland's smile fell, “What?”

“What?” Niari blinked in shock.

“What!?” Dawn jumped to her feet, eyes wide and filled to the brim with worry as she glared at her little sister. “You cannot be serious, Tessaraina? Look at them, Roland is nearly three times Elora's size!”

Elora, for her part, said nothing. The sinking feeling in her chest became far more pronounced as her fears were confirmed. The Princess stilled a tremor that ran the length of her body as she examined Roland once more. Muscle built upon muscle, even larger than Orin and possibly an inch or two taller. He seemed to be growing by the minute. Elora tried to control her emotions, and was successful for the most part, but she couldn't help the small, fleeting feeling of fear that no doubt crossed her face. Roland saw it, this she knew, for pity appeared on his own a moment later.

“I trained her, Dawn. I know what Elora can and cannot do. Beating Roland to a pulp should be no great task for her.”

Elora chose that moment to hiss at her Sister-Smith, hoping to get her attention but failing. Tess was ignoring her, focusing on the naysayers that Elora whole-heartedly agreed with. She couldn't beat a man that size. She'd only been training for a few short months and in all that time she'd yet to land a single blow upon her teacher. What in the Spirit's name was Tess thinking?

“Tessa-”

“Hush,” Tess murmured before raising her voice for all to hear. “Do you agree to these terms, Roland? Elora needs experience fighting stronger opponents and you will get your fight with Orin should you win. Seems a win-win to me.”

“My Lady, with respect,” Roland stared at Elora doubtfully. “The Princess is clearly not comfortable with this and I can't say that I am either. I have been training for years, learning the art of the sword under your father. I do not wish to harm a woman who looks like she's barely held a blade, never mind one with a title from another land. No offence intended, Highness.”

Elora felt a hint of anger begin to overtake her fear as she narrowed her eyes at the man. He would dismiss her so easily? After all the work she's put in, the strides she'd taken? The Princess clenched her teeth and glared at Roland. She may not be a practiced warrior, but she had taken a life before and had been trained by one of the mightiest warriors she'd ever met, not to mention experiencing many battles as Orin's Smith. She was not a useless Noble with flowers weaved in her hair. For Roland to confuse her with one only caused Elora to become annoyed.

“Then you will not fight Orin. This I guarantee.”

Roland's eyes narrowed at the mercenary, as though searching for some hidden meaning beneath her ultimatum and yet finding none. The warrior seemed to be having a war within himself. Eventually he growled into the air, frustration apparent as he clenched his fists. “If it is your wish... Then I will of course accept. I am not averse to giving instruction when it is needed.”

Tess smiled at the Princess playfully as she turned back to her after securing Roland's agreement, “Wanna fight him?”

“No,” Elora snapped at her Sister-Smith, which only caused Tessa's infuriating grin to grow all the wider. “What are you playing at, Tessa?”

The mercenary shrugged. “You said you wanted to fight male opponents. One stands before you now. A true test of how far you've come.”

“I... I...” Elora tried to think of a coherent argument to talk Tess down but couldn't come with anything concise enough to avert her from her current course. In truth, she had asked for this. Only, Elora had believed that when she did fight a man for the first time it would be Orin.

“Ah, you're afraid.”

“I'm not afraid, Tessa.” Elora replied primly, knowing that saying so didn't convince the mercenary of anything. “I just thought... I thought...”

“You thought you would fight Orin,” Tess said grimly as she stepped close to the Princess, glaring down upon her head. “And you know that he wouldn't hurt you. You're scared of pain, Elora. I see it in every one of our duels. You flinch when you should defend, cower when you should advance.”

“That's not true... That isn't-”

“It is. Don't run from it,” Tess growled. “Battle is painful. Fear is the natural response when faced with the idea of being in pain. You've faced it as a Smith, but feeling it first hand is... different. I should have taught you how to conquer it long ago. That's my fault. Luckily, Roland has given us a chance to fix that.”

“Tess-”

“You have to do this, Elora.” The mercenary interrupted her quietly. “I can't force you, nor would I if I could, but you have to do this. If you ever want to catch up, if you ever want to stand next to Orin on the battlefield, you have to face your fears.”

Elora swallowed down her scathing retort, glancing over her Sister-Smith's shoulder to the waiting Roland. Tess was right. She felt terror settle in her heart, but why? She'd seen battle before. Elora had seen the carnage in Dunwellen, had fought and defeated Alden and Berthold as Orin's Smith, so why was she inexplicably struck by fear now? Then it hit the Princess, understanding blooming as she finally reached the heart of the mercenary's reasoning.

That was exactly Tessa's point. When she'd been fighting then, it had been as a Smith, safely tucked away in Orin's inner soul. Even killing Craven had been a spur of the moment decision, one which was pushed along by the fear she felt at the idea of Orin being killed. Not once had Elora had to stand alone. The Princess had never had to fight with only her skill and mettle to rely on. Orin had always been there, his presence her constant source of Strength.

Despite that, despite knowing that Tess was right in everything she said, Elora still hesitated. She felt Tessa's hand on her back, but it wasn't abrasive. The mercenary was instead trying to comfort her.

“You can do this, Elora. I believe in you.”

The Princess felt a surge of courage fill her as she looked into Tessa's eyes. She made her decision with a beaming smile, though one which was far more shaky than Tess' steady grin. “For Orin.”

“For Orin.” Tess nodded, her respect for Elora's decision clear, before glancing over her shoulder at Roland, “The Princess agrees. Get into position.”

The large man looked to Elora and the Princess held his gaze. She was so used to withstanding Tessa's stare that meeting Roland's was all but child's play. The warrior inclined his head, undoing his sword belt and laying his blade carefully on the pew next to him before making his way over to the practice racks. “The rules?”

“First to yield.” Tess called back.

“My Lady, I don't think this is a good idea,” Niari seemed concerned as she walked over to join the two Smiths, accompanied by Tilia and Dawn, whose faces were no less worried. “Roland does not hold back. He is the same as he was as a child, throwing his all into everything.”

“I'm counting on it. Elora won't learn if he holds back.”

“Good luck, Princess,” Dawn wrapped up Elora in a hug, much to the Princess' surprise. D'viritazi sister stared at Tess over her shoulder. “There is no shame in saying no to this. No one in their right mind would expect you to face such an opponent, not when you're still learning.”

Elora smiled thankfully as they separated, “Thank you, Dawn, but Tess is right, I need to do this.”

“She can handle it.” Tessa grumbled, wincing slightly under Dawn's eye.

“Good luck, Elora! Biting and scratching works wonders, I've found. Hitting a man between the legs usually puts them out for while. Oh, and hair pulling! I beat the Countess DuVon with that little trick. Ripped her wig right off!” Tilia frowned as all present stared at her in shock, “What? The Ladies of the High Lord's Court are a brutal lot. I have been in many a Noble scrap on the streets of Nian.”

Elora laughed as the others did the same. Tilia's attitude and outlook more than welcome in this instance, helping to raise Elora's flagging spirits. The Princess felt something be pressed into her hand and discovered it was the replica of Rionna, the dull wood beaten but still whole. It comforted Elora all the more.

“Stay nimble, keep moving,” Tess advised as she led her Sister-Smith to the other side of the small arena. Elora glanced at her opponent as she walked, noting the blade he'd chosen was nearly as long as her own. It seemed to look far more natural in his hands than hers as he swung it back and forth experimentally. “He's big but that means he's slower than you. Use that, and don't underestimate your own strength. You've got a hard hit, so use it to surprise him. Aim low, chop at his legs where he'll strain to defend.”

“I don't think I can reach so high as to hit his head,” Elora muttered in response, watching her opponent as realisation suddenly struck her. Golden eyes widening, Elora turned hurriedly to Tess, “Orin. He'll know something is wrong. I can't hide the fact I'm fighting.”

Tess grunted an acknowledgement, “Don't worry. I'll stop him from stepping in. That said, I'm only half sure I'll be able to convince him. End it quick, Elora, or our Knight will do it for you.”

“A-alright.”

“And one more thing,” Tess stopped as she gently guided Elora into position, ensuring her grip upon her weapon was firm and nodding in satisfaction at the placement of the Princess' feet. “You ready?”

The Princess took a breath, drawing in the hot, Ragoran air and exhaling. After three such breaths, Elora drew herself up to her full height, a full two inches under Tessa's own. “I am.”

Tess punched Elora's arm once more, though this time the Princess did not wince. “You look ready. Remember, Elora, be selfish. Nothing but the sword in your hand and the one in his.”

With that, the mercenary withdrew to the sidelines, standing beside Dawn, Tilia and Niari.

“I will try to make this quick, Princess,” Roland said from his side of the small arena as he hefted his blade. “And as painless as possible.”

Elora didn't respond. Instead she focused on only her beating heart and the sword in her hand. It helped to imagine that it wasn't a hastily constructed doppelgänger of her Forged blade, but the Weapon itself. A sword of black that shimmered with silver stars. The Princess felt her heart settle, her vision fixed on her opponent. Reality seemed to sharpen for Elora then.

She was suddenly painfully aware of where she was and what she was doing. Doubt began to creep up her spine, reminding her once more of the disparity between Roland and herself. Luckily, these thoughts didn't have time to take root before Tessa's call came. The time for thinking was over.

“Begin!”

Roland moved.

Elora made to meet him.