Alina was experiencing a rare peaceful morning as she played her lute and sang experimentally with her blank leather journal propped open by her side, ready for any words of inspiration that may strike her.

As the hours flitted past lazily, a knock eventually signalled the end of her solitude, and with a small sigh, even the Princess had to admit she had had more than enough time to enjoy her hobby.

Her chamber door opened to reveal her personal handmaiden who was in charge of keeping track of the Princess’ schedule.

“Your Highness, Prince Henry has requested your presence in the rose maze centre this afternoon. Afterwards you will have your first courting date with Duke Rhodes’ son from Xava. Tomorrow morning will be your second courting date with the Troivackian King. Your luncheon with Earl Lamont’s son will follow. After that you will have to prepare with you maids for the ball that is to take place in a week's time-”

“In other words, I’m busy until the men all leave for the hunt at the end of the week.”

“Yes. Precisely,” the handmaiden known as Marianne recited dutifully.

She was the daughter of Marquis Dobbs, and only a year or two older than Alina. She was betrothed to the son of an Earl and would only be with the Princess until her royal wedding, at which point, depending on who she ended up marrying, Alina would have to rely on her future spouse to arrange for her serving staff.

“You accepted the Prince’s invitation without asking me?” Alina asked after a moment when she recalled the very first piece of information Marianne had recounted.

“Forgive me, Your Highness, you were speaking highly of him last evening so I assumed it’d be acceptable.” Marianne curtsied and displayed the top of her mousey brown hair before rising and staring emotionlessly at the young royal.

“It is fine. In the future please check with me though.”

In truth, it wasn’t the first time the Lady Dobbs had taken it upon herself to control the Princess’ schedule, and despite the warning Alina had given, the woman continued to do as she saw fit. Whenever the Princess began to consider doing something about it though, found the churning in her stomach detering her.

‘I only have to put up with her for a few months at most… why get someone else in that time though? It isn’t worth it.’

After getting ready for her impormptu meeting with the Troivackian Prince, Alina left her chamber, and made her way down to the rose maze where Henry stood, his arms crossed as he stared up at the sky.

Feeling herself smile instantly, Alina approached him with a slight skip to her step.

“Good day, Your Highness.” She curtsied, and by the time she had straightened Henry was looking at her with his familiar warm grin.

“Thank you for joining me on such short notice, Princess.” the Troivackian bowed dutifully.

“Happy to oblige.” Alina’s eyes twinkled happily.

“Wonderful, you see… I have an even bigger favor to ask of you,” he began while gesturing to the entrance of the maze for them to enter with Alina’s Ladies in waiting falling behind out of earshot.

“Oh? What is that?”

“Well, you see, a lot of people have a very harsh opinion of Troivavk because of the war… but, we are just another country of humans. We have our own culture, with its own beauty.”

Alina listened thoughtfully, and nodded along.

“Which is why I was hoping… during the ball… would you mind singing some of the Troivackian songs with me as a duet? I think it’d help the general opinion of my kingdom.”

It was then the Princess’ expression grew strained, and her steps slowed ever so slightly. “Ah. I… I sympathize with your dilemma, and agree that it isn’t right to condemn an entire nation of people due to the past, but… my father has never been fond of me performing…”

Henry cocked an eyebrow and turned a quizzical stare to her. He looked incredibly similar to his brother in that moment save for his soft gaze.

“You see when I perform… my heart beats faster and I… sometimes I experience one of my attacks,” Alina finished awkwardly, while shifting her hazel eyes to the side to avoid meeting the Prince’s stare.

“Ah, I understand completely, please feel no pressure. I merely thought it’d be a nice show of our kingdoms uniting harmoniously.” Alina risked a small side glance at the Prince, to see if he realized the pun, and found he was grinning politely with sincere humor touching his eyes.

“You know what I… I… want to. So, let’s do it!”Alina burst out, her cheeks already burning.

“Princess, I don’t want to cause you any troubles. If your father would prefer you don’t need to-”

“No, I think that this is a great opportunity to improve our relationship!”

Realizing the implications of what she had just blurted, Alina halted immediately and turned swiftly to Henry, her face entirely red. “Relationship between our kingdoms, I mean.”

The Troivackian noble laughed happily. “Well… if you’re certain, I’d be happy to. Shall we discuss the song list?”

Alina smiled gratefully, and happily changed the subject under the Prince’s gentle encouragement. It was turning into the most wonderful day…

And who knew, perhaps it would be her first time successfully performing!

***

Norman stared at the document in front of himself with deepening concern. The room was deathly quiet despite there being six other people present.

“You are certain that these eye witnesses hadn’t met before to corroborate the story?” the Daxarian King asked gravely.

“Yes. The first was from a mining group, the second from a small town that is isolated from most of Troivack,” Brendan Devark explained tonelessly.

Leaning forward in his seat and resting his forearms on the long table before him, Finlay Ashowan spoke. “A dragon and golems with moss growing on them?”

“Yes,” Brendan replied without batting an eye.

“Were they hostile?” Captain Taylor of Daxaria asked while frowning.

“The dragon allegedly consumed a herd of cattle. The golems that the miners spotted were unaware of their presence, and they did not engage with them.”

“Aside from the loss of livestock, it doesn’t sound overtly harmful, but I agree this is deeply concerning,” Norman added while setting the report down on the table before himself and leaning back in his chair. “I take it you would like military aide?”

“No, Your Majesty. Troivack’s forces are well equipped for the dangers. There is a civil war brewing, but this might be what unites us again,” the Troivackian King explained calmly.

“Then why alert us of this potential threat?” Lord Fuks leaned forward shakily, yet despite his impressive age, there was the undeniable note of rigorous interest in his voice.

“I want as much information as possible about these beasts. I was hoping to submit a formal request to the Coven of Wittica via your diplomat, Viscount Ashowan.” Brendan turned his dark stare to the witch who had raised an eyebrow while listening.

“I will submit the request today. Your Majesty, will you allow me to explain the sightings to the Coven? Or would you prefer to keep that confidential for the time being?” Fin asked while turning to Norman.

“Request the information and see if the new coven leader will allow it without further explanation. If they press you, we will revisit this topic,” Norman explained wisely while nodding to himself.

“There is another matter I wanted to discuss with both Your Majesty and Viscount Ashowan.” Brendan Devark glanced at his own assistant- a silent reedy man who was clean shaven and wore round spectacles. The man’s dark gaze, however, was as sharp and deadly as any strong Troivackian soldier should be. “Mr. Levin.”

At hearing his name, the assistant unfurled a blank scroll and dipped his quill in the nearest inkpot.

“What is this matter?” Mr. Howard asked while eyeing the Troivackian assistant with skepticism.

“I want to discuss the day my father died, and the day my father’s former Chief of Military, Aidan Helmer, was executed as well.”

The room fell into a shocked silence.

“For what reason would you want to discuss this?” Mr. Howard demanded, the color high in his cheeks as Norman slowly straightened his shoulders, a frown moving over his features.

“I would like to know the true story of how he died. The accounts reported to me was that it was you, King Norman Reyes, that slayed him in battle. Yet another report I received implied that it was an archer that struck him down. I ask for my piece of mind.” Brendan gave a respectful bow of his head to Norman, but there was a glint in eyes that resembled a mountain cat eyeing a potential threat.

Mr. Howard opened his mouth to presumably object, but Norman held up his hand and stopped him.

“Your father was charging towards the castle, leading his men. He deflected a rain of arrows with his shield, but once he reached our front lines discarded it as our archers ceased to preserve our men’s safety. However, one particularly skilled archer felt confident enough to take the shot when he and I were about to clash swords.”

“What is the name of this archer?” Brendan asked while clearly trying to keep his tone light, but failing.

“For the sake of their safety, I will not share their name,” Norman replied eyeing the young King sternly.

Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Brendan leaned back in his chair and let out a breath.

“I do not ask for the purpose of vengeance. You may be misunderstanding my anger right now. War brings death, and Troivack was the first to attack. I know my father’s death occurred where he would’ve preferred it; on the battlefield. I'm asking because I don’t like disloyal subjects, or duplicitous dealings.”

“How does your father’s death contribute to duplicitous dealings?” Norman queried while regarding the youth with feigned softness.

“I have reason to believe that there has been a master spy working under you, Your Majesty, for some time. I want all informants removed from my court.”

The stillness in the room was as fragile as cracked glass.

“What has this to do with your father’s death?” Captain Taylor demanded, his voice loud in the mounting tension.

“It was a loose end that answered my question. Your spy that killed my father, has great power here, and can even reach my own castle walls. I will reveal their identity and further details of this individual if these spies are not removed from my home.”

“If you know who these spies are, why not remove them yourself?” Norman asked, tilting his head curiously.

“I don’t know who they are, but I know by how I am treated here that someone has been reporting my military moves. I take it that while your informant is powerful, they were unaware of the civil war I mentioned before. I am not preparing to attack Daxaria.” Brendan’s gaze never wavered from Norman, and the hazel eyes that were pretending disinterest couldn’t help but tighten.

“Why do you wish to know about my father’s death?” Fin interrupted, though unbeknownst to him, his eyes were glowing a little too brightly…

“Your father warned you all of an old power returning to this world, and he himself had a dragon as a familiar. I want to know exactly what was said as it pertains to me defending my people.”

“There aren’t any more details other than he spoke of the death of our children, and that the old power was rising once more,” the witch met Brendan’s stare unabashedly.

“I see. Thank you.” The Troivackian King nodded to his assistant who began scribbling down notes. "I suppose I will leave these two matters to rest for today. What is the next item on today's agenda?"

While the topics shifted to the upcoming hunt, no one could deny the unease that permeated the air making everyone feel uncomfrotable with the news of the strange creatures that had been spotted in Troivack, or the Troivackian King’s suspicion regarding a master spy...

Fin, however, was already filled with worry over his wife... For some reason he couldn’t put his finger on, he didn’t think the young ruler was bluffing about knowing who the mastermind behind the scenes was.

As the Viscount pondered this more deeply, the Troivackian King’s gaze cut to him, and behind their deceptively still depths, Fin saw the dislike and mistrust the man bore for him.

‘This could prove troublesome.’

*

Alina swished into the library happily as she moved over to the shelves where a handful of music books had been stored. She wanted to find a song that would best rouse the Daxarian courts to put them in good spirits, even if she didn’t execute the performance as well as she’d like.

Humming as she moved, the Princess failed to notice her father sitting in the armchair by the cold hearth with a book in his hand.

“Did you have a pleasant luncheon?” Norman asked with a small chuckle at his daughter’s uncharacteristic good mood.

Jumping and clutching her chest, Alina spun around to face her father. “Gods I-I didn’t see you there!”

Closing his book slowly, Norman leaned his head onto his fingers and regarded his daughter’s flushed face and overall glow. “Were you spending time with Kat and Tam this morning?”

Alina clasped her hands together and immediately shifted her gaze ever so slightly. “Actually, I… I was with Prince Henry in the rose maze.”

There was a pregnant pause before Norman leaned back in his chair and visibly schooled his features. The Princess immediately felt her stomach twist with anxiety over the response.

“He isn’t like the other Troivackians I’ve met. He’s kind, and he laughs a lot. He likes music like I do, and-”

“So you are… interested in him?”

Blushing fiercely, Alina dropped her gaze. “A little.”

“I see. How do you feel about Tamlin Ashowan?”

The Princess’ hazel eyes jumped up to her father, a kind smile in them. “He’s a lovely man. A little… I don’t know… I know something isn’t quite right, but he isn’t touched in the mind. It just seems as though he sees or hears… or fears something if he is left in a vulnerable position.”

Norman nodded sagely, but it was hard to miss the hopeful light in his features. “Then last but not least, tell me your feelings regarding the King of Troivack, Brendan Devark?”

Alina couldn’t explain the surge she felt in her chest, or the strange flip in her stomach. Nor did she realize what kind of face she was making that startled her father.

“My dear one, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you make an expression like that before. Mind if I ask you to explain?”

“It… He’s just… he keeps popping up! I don’t hear him coming, and he keeps surprising me! Then he’ll say something that sounds like an insult, but turns out it isn’t, and then I keep misunderstanding. He’s entirely too forthright, and yet I don’t know exactly what he’s thinking and… and…”

“And?” Norman asked, feeling entirely taken aback by how flustered his normally composed and sweet daughter was becoming.

Gripping her hands firmly, Alina frowned and moved her gaze to the ground while trying to find the precise words to use about Brendan Devark. “He’s the most vexing person I’ve ever met, but I don’t think I… hate him. Yet.”

Staring in awe, and not saying a word, the Daxarian King wondered why that response was the one that filled him with the most concern of all three. Perhaps it was because his daughter rarely ever became so emotional...

Regardless, he began to hope more fervidly that Tam Ashowan started showing signs of overcoming whatever it is that plagued him. Otherwise there was the slight chance that his daughter may be asking to move far away from him, and...

He wasn't sure his heart could take it.