Alina let the final chord of the ballad ring out amongst the rose maze, the blooms happy for the performance as Henry’s voice faded perfectly into the quiet, earning polite but pleased applause from the Princess’ maids.

“I think we’re ready!” the Troivackian Prince turned a beaming smile to the Princess and she blushed prettily before turning her gaze to her knees in front of her, her demure smile adorable enough to make everyone watching smile in knowingness.

“Do you think people will dance, or will they just listen?” Alina asked, unable to fully hide the growing bubble of happiness in her chest.

Henry smiled fondly at the Princess, and leaned back in his chair, unable to take his eyes off of her. “I think they’d be too frightened to ignore either of us, so they’ll probably all stop and listen.”

“Oh no… my palms are already sweating! Everyone staring on top of that?” Alina lifted her pale hand and stared at her clammy palm with her heart skipping several beats.

“I thought you were being modest when you said you had never performed,” Henry remarked with his smile fading slightly and his warm brown gaze growing concerned.

Fortunately, Alina didn’t see his trepidation, as she still found herself unable to muster the courage to face the Prince just yet knowing that she was probably the color of a tomato.

“No, I tried to sing for my father and a few of his closest council members, but had a horrible attack. Mum had me stay in bed the rest of the day… we tried again a few years later, and I managed to get through the whole performance for Duke Iones and his wife, but… was trembling so much I played horribly. Since then I’ve been far too nervous to try again.” Alina took a deep steadying breath and forced herself to sit a little straighter.

Finally, she turned to face Henry, but his expression took her aback immediately.

He looked uneasy, and his lips were pursed.

Alina had seen that look hundreds of times in her life, and it made her stomach drop unpleasantly.

“Princess, I… I am worried that you might-”

“I can do this! It’s for our kingdoms! If I can’t do this much, I mean…” the Princess began defensively, her hand instinctively gripping the neck of her lute.

“Don’t think like that. You are more than just your singing, Your Highness. You are kind, and fair. You are… an exemplary noble. Soft spoken, but a calming presence to be sure.”

Alina couldn’t explain why his compliments hurt her deeply. She knew why they did, but she somehow had a sense that she would only sound like she was being difficult if she complained of the nature of Henry’s words.

‘When described like that I feel like I’m just a… a… a cherry on top of a dessert. More decoration than substance like any good noblewoman should be. Not strong, or… or any importance aside from my ability to give children, and who knows if I can even do that?’

“Princess, if I’ve said something to upset you, I offer my deepest regrets. I merely meant that you have more strengths than just your musical tale-”

“It’s fine, Your Highness. I’m sure it’s just my nerves,” Alina heard herself say the words. She knew this was exactly what he meant.

She could always keep up her friendly and affable appearance even without thinking.

“Don’t worry, we will still try to perform tomorrow at the ball and-”

“Ah, pardon me, Your Highness, I think I need to retire to the castle. It’s… it’s getting quite warm out here.” Alina stood swiftly, and setting down her lute a little too roughly, turned and began striding down the stone pathway hurriedly.

Her maids were unable to pack up their sewing and skirts quickly enough, and so Alina sped up her pace even if it meant risking another attack.

“Princess, please wait for me, I am just about-” Marianne called, the note of irritation clear to everyone within earshot.

Without turning to face the group of pitying and irritated gazes Alina called over her shoulder, only stopping for a moment. “Marianne, please return my lute to my room with the women and wait for me there.”

“Your Highness, it is not wise for you to be left unattended with-”

“Do as I say!” Alina shouted angrily before her small hands curled into fists as she resumed her previous speed.

Striding out of the maze as quickly as her legs would carry her, the Princess began to think where she wanted to go…

She didn’t want to see people, so her chamber or the kitchens was out of the question.

Tam was probably in the library, and she knew if she asked not to say anything he would listen, but she didn’t want him to see her like that.

She didn’t like the woods…

Turning towards the castle’s eastern entrance, she decided to go to the one room she knew that would have to be empty no matter what.

*

Brendan was striding down the western corridor towards the main staircase along the north side of the castle, in his hand a list of hastily scrawled points. He was moving his mouth as he read through them over and over, his brow furrowed, and was relatively certain that he was alone as he moved, when he heard a strange sound in the room to his left. It was like a gasp followed by a shuffle…

His instincts sharpening, the Troivackian recalled that the last three chambers of the hall were supposed to be empty and left untouched- the Head of Housekeeping had been strangely adamant about it.

Knowing he risked another dispute with the Daxarian King, Brendan turned to the room and wrapped his hand around the handle, pressing his thumb down onto the latch.

‘I can just say I heard something and wanted to make sure an animal hadn’t broken in…’

When he opened the chamber door and peered in, he wasn’t sure what he was going to see, but he hadn’t been anticipating a rather spacious bedroom, with the furniture covered in sheets.

A layer of dust coated the stone floor, and the hearth sported several wispy cobwebs, yet on the mantel above it stood the only piece that looked to be regularly cared for.

A portrait.

Stepping further into the room, the King quietly closed the door behind himself, his curiosity over the gilded frame getting the better of him.

Slowly, he moved to stand before the picture, and once positioned beneath, found himself staring into the faces of the Daxarian King, Queen, and their two children, but it was clearly painted many years ago…

In the picture, the Queen was smiling with an adorable blonde curly haired girl in her arms staring at the painter seriously. The King had his hand resting on the shoulder of a little boy with dirty blonde waves, his mouth in a serious line, but his eyes seemed mischievous somehow.

A happy royal family in their throne room.

The slight rustle against the stone floor reached Brendan’s ears, drawing his attention back to the presence in the room he had sensed the moment he had entered, but deemed unthreatening.

“Is there a reason you are hiding, Princess?” The Troivackian King turned, his hands clasped behind his back to face the tear stained face of Alina, a fully grown young woman, no longer a babe in her mother’s arms. She was crouched on the floor with her back against the same wall of the door, her knees drawn up to her chest.

She stared at him with a frown, and it was perfectly clear that he was intruding, yet… he remained rooted to the spot.

“I wanted to be alone. No one comes in here.”

“Hmm.” Brendan faced the painting again, and then noticed two other smaller portraits that were in oval wooden frames, and clearly not maintained on the mantel.

On the left was the Crown Prince Eric, perhaps sixteen years old looking young and proud beside his sister who sat demurely on a satin covered chair. His hand was clutching its back, and something about the way they were angled indicated their closeness. The second picture was of the King and Queen in the centre of the rose maze. The King and Queen seated in their finery in front of the ruby blooms, their smiles and bright eyes open and warm…

“Could you please leave?” Alina’s throat was hoarse from crying, and she really didn’t want him of all people making her feel worse.

Brendan turned around to face her, his dark eyes emotionless before they surveyed the rest of the room and he noted the three swords above the bed. One a wooden training sword, the other a child’s first blade- usually gifted when they were twelve, and the last in the centre, a sword master’s gilded handle. A fine blade left to gather dust…

“This is Prince Eric’s bedroom, is it not?” Brendan’s brow was furrowed and his head tilted thoughtfully over his shoulder.

“It is, and no one but myself, my father, or my brother are allowed in here, so if you could-”

“Where is the Crown Prince, Princess? No one has heard of him, or seen him in any official capacity, in three years.”

Alina’s hands trembled as she slowly, and with labored movements pushed herself to a standing position from the floor. Dusting her golden skirts, she fixed her red rimmed eyes on the King, hoping that she wouldn’t start crying again.

“That is private business. Now, I will not-”

“The well-being of the Crown Prince of Daxaria is not private business, Princess. Pardon my interruption, but the leader of the continent is supposed to be as transparent as possible with his people. It is his duty to be active in all political ventures to prepare for his inheritance of the throne.”

“Well what if I’m going to inherit the throne?!” Alina snapped, her hands clutching her skirts tightly as she felt the stupid tears come to her eyes again.

“Is that what you want?” Brendan asked calmly, completely unmoved by her watery gaze, which was both unnerving yet also… somehow refreshing.

Alina could feel her clenching her jaw to stop her lips from quivering. “Maybe it is. Do you think that is ridiculous?”

The Troivackian King thought for a long moment, his eyes moving to the floor with a serious expression for several moments more.

“Not ridiculous. You would need to start attending council meetings and being more active in the court now. However, if you wish to take the throne while unmarried in the next five years at the soonest? Perhaps consider training with a weapon. With your current physical well-being, I’d recommend a small bow or crossbow. I’ve heard musical training is wonderful for hand-eye coordination development, which is a useful skill.”

Alina found herself taking a subconscious step back from the shock she received and hitting the stone wall behind her.

“You, as the King of Troivack, would acknowledge me as the Queen Regnant of Daxaria, and take no exception or look down upon me?”

“As long as you performed your duties well, why would I?” The man once again expressed no emotion, yet his words still somehow sounded genuine.

“Don’t you believe women are to be in the background? Be kind, calm, and dutiful? Bear children?”

“I believe those are strengths they can have; however, some are predisposed to others,” he explained thoughtfully. If Brendan were being honest with himself, he was moderately pleased the Princess seemed so interested in talking with him then. Not to mention she had stopped crying for whatever reason…

“Why? Isn’t that against what the rest of your people believe?” Alina asked, not caring if the question was personal or untoward. She was too interested in the answer.

“Most, yes. The reason I believe it is time for change, however, stems from the powerlessness my mother experienced when my father died. If she’d been allowed to act as a monarch, I could have transitioned into my role as the next King seamlessly, and my people wouldn’t have had a literal child as their sole leader.”

There was the barest hitch in the King’s voice, and Alina felt her curiosity double. “I can’t imagine how… difficult it would have been to be King at that age. Surely you had advisors that-”

“Princess, are you aware of the political nature in Troivack?” Brendan’s voice took on a hardness she then realized hadn’t been in his voice before despite always thinking it was.

“I know it is a merciless place where a successful backstabbing is treated with great reverence.”

Brendan’s smile didn’t reach his eyes at her explanation. “Correct. It is rare an advisor to a King doesn’t have his own hidden agenda. Which is why I want to change things. To be cunning is good, but if we are constantly testing each other we slow down progress. It’s this belief that has kept Henry is alive.”

Alina frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Most Kings make sure their siblings are slaughtered once crowned. It ensures no rebellious factions form in the court. If they are a woman, banishment is carried out if they express interest in ruling.”

“Like Princess Nora who betrayed Daxaria in order to regain a title during the war?”

This time Brendan’s smile reached his eyes. “Very good, yes. Exactly like that. Princess Nora Devark is a prime example.”

Alina gave a small conspiratorial smile at him then, feeling a little proud of herself.

Until a new thought occurred to her…

“Your Highness, if you are in support of me ruling Daxaria, does that mean you no longer think we should marry?” Her heart pounded so brutally in her chest, making the Princess wonder if it was going to cause another breathing episode for her.

Brendan Devark’s face shifted once more to a pensive expression, and he didn’t speak for several moments. He didn’t look angry, and it was then Alina noticed that he often was very careful in expressing his opinions; and given his straightforward nature, it meant that he always believed his words completely.

“Well, I would propose the idea that we rule both countries Troivack and Daxaria as a wedded couple, with you being the Queen Regnant of Daxaria and me the King of Troivack.”

Alina blinked. “You would allow me to rule without interference as your wife?”

“In Daxaria, yes. I would be a King Consort here. Or Prince Consort depending how your court prefers to title things, however in Troivack I would be King, and you would be Queen Consort.”

“What of children?”

“We’d better have two then.” Brendan straightened his shoulders, his face calm as though he had figured out all the answers.

“And you… you wouldn’t betray me? You’re not plotting to take my kingdom in some elaborate ruse?”

Brendan’s face turned stoney. “Do you think you’d even be able to tell if I were lying to you?”

At this, Alina allowed a slow grin to lift her features. “What I think… is that you have built yourself to be the type of man that doesn’t rely on lies to strengthen himself. Rather you know, without any duplicity, that you are strong. So, I have a feeling you will answer my questions honorably.”

He couldn’t help it.

For the first time in a long time, Brendan smiled out of genuine gladness, and it made him so shockingly handsome that Alina felt her heart skip a beat in her chest.

“Princess, I think you can see how pleased your reply has made me. So, I will answer you, as you predicted: truthfully. I want to form strong ties with Daxaria, but I do not believe now is the time for our two kingdoms to become one. Therefore, I have no designs on conquering the country through political or brutal means.”

Alina gnawed on her lower lip in an effort to stop smiling before her expression froze, and slowly melted off her face.

The sight of which made Brendan frown.

“Well, I am happy to hear that, Your Majesty. Though it doesn’t really matter, because no matter what, my brother will become King. But…” the Princess’ face regained a fraction of her happy glow from before. “I… I thank you for your support. It is far more than I’ve ever received. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I will go before my maids start looking for me.”

With a final curtsey, Alina swept out of the chamber, leaving the King of Troivack with more questions than answers which he didn’t like one bit.

The first and most troubling of which being…

Where in the world was the Crown Prince of Daxaria?

The second most pressing question was whether or not he was really fit to be King.

The third, and strangely the one that made Brendan’s chest tighten slightly…

If the Princess wanted to rule, why did someone who couldn’t bother to show his face to his people get to walk right into the position?