Alina was on her way back from an unpleasant courting date with the heir to the Lamont Earldom, when she heard the fervid whispers of the servants regarding the Troivackian King and Prince training by the barracks.

As much as she wanted to screech to a halt and demand the details, she had her attendants with her.

Even so, she couldn’t just ignore a chance to see the infamous Troivackian techniques…

“Shall we see what all the fuss is about at the training ring?” Alina asked aloud while managing to make herself sound disinterested.

“Your presence would be a distraction, Your Highness,” Marianne, her personal handmaiden interjected with her eyes cast downwards.

Alina felt herself grow awkward and embarrassed.

“I… I suppose you are ri-”

“ALINA! Thank Gods I found you, we have to see this!” Katarina Ashowan came barrelling down the corridor while nimbly dodging the Princess’ entourage and personal assistant who tried to subtly get between the two women.

Grabbing onto the young monarch’s arm, Katarina turned her devious grin to her new friend. “I hear Captain Taylor has allowed the King of Troivack and the Prince to train in the ring as a learning experience! There is no way we are missing it!”

Marianne stepped forward, her disapproving frown still somehow appearing elegant. Her elegant face was turned down, but her features were stiff.

“The men need the utmost concentration when training, otherwise they could-”

Katarina rounded on the maid, her golden eyes flashing. “If all it takes for the men to make a mistake is women watching, then they will be the first to die in a real battle. Your logic is ridiculous.”

Marianne’s deep blue eyes darkened. “It is not Ladylike for the Princess-”

“Doesn’t the Princess get to decide what is proper or not as the highest ranking one of us here?” Kat snapped, straightening her shoulders to her full height, and looming over the assistant.

“Speaking of rank, Lady Ashowan, you have not greeted me properly either,” Marianne reminded sharply.

The redhead’s right eye twitched as she slowly lowered into a curtsy before the daughter of the Earl.

The assistant had a smug smile on her face, but was immediately disarmed when Katarina once again grabbed Alina’s arm, who was standing rooted to the spot unable to make a move as indecision on how best to respond wavered her heart.

“Good day, Lady Marianne.”

Then, Katarina took off, pulling Alina along with her. The two were setting off on a jog, and the Princess was beginning to feel an unconscious smile spread up her features, when they rounded the corner, and she felt the familiar shudder of her lungs. Skidding to a halt, Alina closed her eyes and did her best to take very slow long breaths to stave off the rattle of coughs that threatened her lungs.

“Ah, sorry about that. Forgot you can’t really do much running,” Katarina rounded back with an apologetic smile.

The young royal smiled back kindly. “It’s alright. We can walk quickly if you prefer?”

The redhead turned back to face towards the western side of the castle with a delighted gleam to her face while offering her arm to her friend. “Shall we, Princess?”

Alina laughed while hooking her elbow with Katarina’s. “I’d love to.”

*

Sword in hand, Brendan faced Tamlin Ashowan, the young Lord was standing rigid by the base of the Captain’s watch chair.

“I’d like to train with you, Lord Ashowan. I presume as the future heir to the Viscount house you have received some basic degree of instruction.”

Captain Taylor leaned forward, his previously studious expression turning sharp. “Your Majesty, the young Lord has never trained in front of a crowd. There is no need to put him on the spot.”

“With all due respect, Captain, I will see what the young Lord thinks of my request.” Brendan bowed his head respectfully to the military leader before once again fixing Tam with his unwavering gaze.

“Brother, it’s a scratch, I’m fine to continue training with you,” Henry called over from his place on the sidelines where the Royal Physician was in the process of stitching shut a small yet deep gash on his upper arm.

Tam met his gaze, and surprising everyone, he seized the Captain’s sword that was leaning against the base of the chair, while also placing his book down. Without wavering for a moment, he strode forward, his gaze never leaving the King.

“This will be light training,” Tam directed the statement to the Troivackian in low tones. “For instructional purposes.”

One of Brendan’s dark eyebrows quirked up. “Tell me, is it that you think you can best me, or is it that you fear that darkness I see in you?”

Tam didn’t say a word as he struck a beginning position, and waited, though it was clear there was a slight trembling in his hand.

Addressing the crowd of Knights around the ring, Brendan raised his voice. “Lord Ashowan’s footing is not far enough apart, if I strike him as he is now, he will lose his footing like so,” swinging his sword faster than many men could blink the King’s sword swung down at Tam’s open side.

Only instead of countering the swing, he stepped out of its arc.

Brendan smiled. “Avoiding a blow when you suspect your opponent to be stronger than yourself isn’t a bad move, though it is entirely dependent on you maintaining your speed.”

The monarch then executed four quick jabs that immediately backed Tam into the wooden railing of the training ring.

“It also makes it easy for an opponent to corner you.”

Tam held up his hands in surrender. He had intended for it to end as soon as possible, but had been surprised at just how talented the Troivackian King was. Tam pried himself away from the fence and began following behind the monarch towards the ring’s exit.

Just as well, he needed Brendan Devark to lose interest in him. It was becoming dangerous.

As the King was beginning to reach for the gate, a sudden cry rang out.

“TAM WATCH OUT!”

The Troivackian King had withdrawn his sword while making it appear as though he was moving for the gate latch, and was swinging it right for Tam’s middle.

Reacting on instinct without thought, the young Lord deflected the blow, then proceeded to step closer to the King intending to kick his groin. Only the King was drawing out his second sword and blocked the kick while flipping his other sword in his hand to come down in an arch over Tam’s head.

Ducking under the Troivackians arm easily due to his close proximity he swung around to face the King's back, his sword raising upwards for a strike, only despite his size, the man moved remarkably nimbly as he twisted and blocked the blow with his short sword.

Facing each other, Tam was about to announce the end of the fight, when once again Brendan rushed him.

Forced to step closer to the Troivackian in order to defend one sword and avoid the other blade, he managed to instep the King’s foot and ram his elbow back into his nose, momentarily stunning Brendan and allowing Tam to knock the short sword out of the King’s grasp into his own before twisting out of reach again.

“Enough,” Tam panted, feeling the familiar pull in his gut begin to grow stronger. He just wanted the fight to end before he lost control.

Brendan Devark wiped the blood from his nose with the back of his hand wearing a hungry smile.

“I knew your Troivackian blood would come out sooner or later.”

Tam’s face turned stony and for a moment, he remained perfectly still as the spectators shifted awkwardly and whispered amongst themselves. After a dark look in the King's direction, Tam began to move, striding past Brendan with his shoulders stiff. Sheathing the Captain’s sword, Tam left it by the base of the chair where he had first found it. He then proceeded to stick the King’s short sword into the ground, and picking his book up where it had laid on one of the watchchair’s beams, continued walking without looking back.

“Your Majesty,”

Everyone’s eyes turned from the retreating back of the future Viscount, to Katarina Ashowan and Alina. Katarina’s expression was murderous. However, it had been Alina’s meek voice that had spoken out.

The King’s eyes softened when he noticed her tentatively entering the training ring, clearly uncomfortable with all the attention being placed on her.

“Yes, Princess?” Brendan returned politely with a bow.

“I would like to have a private word with you… over… over there,” Alina nodded over to the wide expanse of green lawn just south of the training ring where not a single soul stood. “We will be within sight of the Captain,” she added suddenly.

Brendan was puzzled about why that mattered, before recalling he hadn’t officially made her his betrothed yet. In his mind it was as good as done.

Sheathing his sword and exiting the ring, he stopped in front of the Princess, and appreciated that for once she didn’t flinch once dwarfed by his size. Offering her his arm, he noted the look of surprise on her face, which then quickly resumed a frown.

As soon as the Knights thought they were out of earshot, they began murmuring amongst themselves, only the King heard them just fine.

Regardless, once a short distance away, Alina released her hold on his arm and faced him, her cheeks pink.

“That was a poor choice of words to describe Tam- I mean, Lord Ashowan. Y-You should apologize.”

Brendan blinked in astonishment, unable to speak for a moment. “I beg your pardon?”

Alina flushed more deeply, and her hands gripped together in front of her skirts, but she still replied. “After the war, Troivackians were not treated kindly here in Daxaria. Even if Lord Ashowan is the son of the great House Witch, his mother and he faced a lot of prejudice from some of the nobles and civilians.”

Brendan raised an eyebrow and lowered his head slightly to the Princess. “I noted his Troivackian heritage as a compliment.”

“I-I recognize that you see it that way, but announcing that in front of the Knights is going to have repercussions for him,” she managed to say while finally breaking free from his stare.

“Then as an heir to a Viscount title he should be strong enough to handle it. I’m surprised that you are the one speaking to me and not the Lord’s sister,” Brendan observed, changing the subject swiftly.

He wasn’t sure why there needed to be such a discussion to begin with. Everyone could be an enemy, it was up to the individual to be strong enough on their own.

“I’m speaking to you because it is my duty as your host here in Daxaria. You need to be mindful that there is bad blood between the nations, and Tamlin Ashowan, no matter how strong he may or may not be, cannot take on an entire country’s wrath. Nor should he.” Alina found it far easier saying what she needed to with her frown fixed to the lush green grass rather than whatever expression the Troivackian King was making towards her in that moment.

“You expect me to believe Lord Ashowan is the only mix breed Troivackian on your shores? Is his sister not half Troivackian as well?”

“Don’t be obstinate,” Alina burst out before she could stop herself. She risked looking at the Troivackian King, but found his hard gaze all the more terrifying. Even so, she forced herself to keep speaking. She knew if she didn’t, Katarina would intervene and the well-intentioned redhead would once again land in a world of trouble.

“Tam is one of five nobles here in Daxaria that are Troivackian or share Troivackian heritage, he is grossly outnumbered. Following the war there were numerous innocent citizens of Troivackian heritage that were murdered in the streets out of fear and hatred. It’s hard enough winning over civilians and nobility, yet you immediately aligned him with your ilk. While things have improved, you have done damage to how our men at arms see him. Katarina bears little to no resemblance to her mother and so people have been more lenient towards her if the rumors I've heard are true.”

Brendan straightened, and folded his thick forearms with their coarse black hair across his chest. “You seem determined to be the defender of the Ashowan’s. Though I have to wonder what they have done to earn such loyalty from you. Their wealth is great, yet they have ties with criminals and questionable establishments. Your Viscount has the power to defend thousands of people alone, and the Viscountess… there is more I wish to say, but won’t. My point is that they have much to hide, and I do not believe it wrong to be wary of them.”

“The Ashowan family is-! Nevermind,” Alina cut herself off, her eyes were watering and she hated it. Even so, she needed to drive her point home. “The Viscount and Viscountess have nothing to do with Tam right now. You are in the wrong, Your Majesty.”

Tears had begun to slip out against her will, and the Princess was doing her best to dash them with the back of her wrist to avoid them causing a scene.

The Troivackian monarch said nothing for a moment, as though he were giving her time to compose herself… or to explode his displeasure over her request…

“For calling the young Lord Ashowan a Troivackian, I will offer my… regrets. However, I will not apologize for my skepticism on ‘the great’ Ashowan family. Even Tamlin there. What he hides within himself is something else entirely. I can see the shadows he is capable of ruling and his ease with death’s carriage driver. If you favor him, Princess, be careful.”

Alina raised her gaze sharply to Brendan’s, her hazel eyes bright as the tears seemed determined to keep falling. “He is a good man, and he has done nothing wrong. If your dislike of him stems from talks of he and I becoming betrothed, I thought it was clear that there is no future between-”

“You and the Viscount’s son becoming betrothed?” Brendan’s casual puzzlement in turn made Alina frown.

Then blinking his eyes wide and giving his head a shake, the King dropped his arms so that his hand rested on the hilt of his sword. “Ah, I keep forgetting to say that that matter has been settled already. I believe with some training you will make an acceptable Queen for Troivack. I was supposed to inform you of this later today.”

All color drained from Alina’s face. “I… I beg your pardon?”

“I was told it was customary here in Daxaria to discuss it with the prospective bride before her father, so I was going to do so this afternoon. However, I have decided it is a good union so there is no need for the courting dates to continue.”

Mouth opening and closing without a sound coming out for a moment, Brendan briefly wondered if the Princess had another affliction aside from her breathing difficulties.

“I… am not… going to marry you. How dare you try to take my choice from me.” Despite her best efforts, Alina’s throat was closing from the swell of her emotion. It grew so tight in fact, that she worried one of her worst nightmares was about to occur…

“I have not agreed or expressed any interest in marrying you. I do not wish to speak to you ever again about this. Goodbye, Your Majesty.” Turning on her heel and striding hastily away, Brendan stared after her, completely stunned.

What had he said that was wrong?

Also, why in the world was she crying? What was the customary thing to do when a Daxarian woman cried?!

Turning back towards the training ring, Brendan found himself staring at a sea of eager and stricken faces.

Save for two ferocious ones that bordered on bloodthirsty…

One belonging to Lady Katarina Ashowan, and the other to King Norman Reyes of Daxaria, Alina’s father.