“-Then I asked why the Viscount got to be aware of all our family nonsense but we couldn’t know his!” Alina had just finished recounting her confrontation earlier that day to Brendan who had been unable to join her for lunch, but made sure to make it to their nightly walk around the castle grounds.

Katarina followed behind them at a distance with three maids. The daughter of the House Witch had not been informed of the Princess’ spat with her father, as when she had returned from her ‘walk’, had reappeared in a different dress and her hair sopping wet just in time for the last meeting of the day. Alina had decided she would discuss the details with her friend when she seemed less… stressed.

“You are right to be angry about the Viscount’s private knowledge of your brother. However, the Viscount relinquishing his title for his son is information that people in Troivack are killed over. I understand it being a private matter,” Brendan replied evenly as they rounded the front of the castle to begin their second lap around the structure.

“Well people don’t usually get killed in Daxaria over a legitimate son inheriting a title,” Alina pointed out, only slightly irked that Brendan was siding with her father on the matter.

“The Viscount isn’t just a Viscount, however. He is the hero of Daxaria. To what extent is he stepping down? This could send the message that he is no longer going to protect Daxaria in times of war. Not only that, but he is a diplomat for the Coven of Wittica. Does Lord Tamlin also take on that title? Is he capable of assuming all of these responsibilities when, as far as everyone is aware, he is nowhere near as powerful as his father?”

Alina found her frustration melt into defeat as she realized the truth to his words.

“Furthermore, Princess, you should most likely consider exercising more caution when telling others these things. It could cause rumors that could create more problems.”

Feeling herself grow more than slightly embarrassed at the small lecture, Alina’s grip on Brendan’s arm tightened. “I didn’t tell other people, I just… am telling you… because I believe spouses should tell each other these things and it will be safe. I mean, when we are in Troivack together we can’t have secrets. I believe spouses, especially rulers, should be transparent and-”

Brendan’s look of apprehension and surprise made Alina’s stomach flip.

“Are we going to have secrets?” Alina felt her throat begin to close. Why was she becoming upset so quickly? Perhaps because she had been so excited to see him, and he seemed somber for some reason that evening...

“There are some things my vassals will confide in me, and it is not my business to share with you. Furthermore, not all matters that I will handle will be communicated with you.”

The Princess stopped then turned Brendan to face her directly.

“Some personal matters I understand need to be kept between friends, but… pertaining to ourselves and the kingdom, shouldn’t I know everything you do if we are to rule together?”

Brendan stared down perplexed at her. She seemed upset, but surely she knew that a King and Queen were privy to very different information, surely her own parents…

A light went on in the Troivackian King’s mind.

“Princess, do you mean to tell me that your parents shared all information with one another?” he asked slowly.

“Yes! The courtiers all understood that my parents were ruling together. My mother was a Princess and my father was a Baron’s son, it only made sense that they conferred together on- why are you staring at me like that! You said you wanted Troivack to evolve and bring women onto more equal footing!”

“More, yes. However, it will not be exactly like here, Princess. Troivack will always be different from Daxaria. There will be things I will not share with you, and most likely you will have similar situations as well. You will be tasked with keeping the court women in line and maintaining positive relationships with them to further strengthen our position with regards to including them in discussions and changing laws with regards to inheritance...” As he spoke, Brendan was beginning to grow more concerned by the tears he saw rising in her eyes.

“So we will have secrets from one another, and… and rule completely separate areas? Will I even get final say on what I decide with my own duties?”

Brendan’s answer was no, but he was beginning to suspect she wanted him to answer yes… He was saved responding, however, when she continued her questioning.

“If as a woman I am not privy to secrets, then I don’t understand why you are so angry on my behalf that my father isn’t telling me about my brother?!” Alina’s voice was rising, and the Troivackian King felt his face turning stoney.

“I am angry because your brother is supposed to be taking over to rule Daxaria. He has left his kingdom’s future uncertain, which in turn affects my own kingdom as it is unclear whether or not you will be Daxaria's Queen.”

“So because of the political implications, you were bothered?” Alina’s voice rasped as she attempted to lower her voice as two guards near the castle entrance turned their attention towards them.

“I didn’t like you being sad either. I’ve… I’ve come to grow quite fond of you, and if I am honest I do not quite understand why you are becoming so upset.” Brendan spoke calmly, and evenly, as though he were trying to manage her, and that alone only made Alina want to scream at him all the more.

“I thought you said you were always truthful,” she snapped as she recognized the angry tears were once again coming to her eyes.

“I am. I am telling you now that there are things I will not be sharing with you because they are private dealings as a King.”

“Will I be afforded the same privacy without your intervention in my rulings should I deem it necessary?” Alina’s eyes flashed, and Brendan had fought enough people to recognize a warning.

Even so. He would not lie.

“No. I am Troivack’s leader, I need to-”

“Aren’t I supposed to be one of Troivack's leaders” she interrupted, her voice once again rising.

The guards by the castle doors were beginning to take tentative steps forward as the Princess’ voice began to carry over to them.

“In a way. Your knowledge and understanding of my kingdom will not be the same degree of my own. Should you not understand something or commit an error I need to be able to-”

“So I’m on a leash? For how long? How long before I am trusted to make changes? You indicated you wanted help ruling, but are now saying that you merely want someone to handle the women just like your predecessors. Tell me, what is it you want to be different exactly?”

Brendan began growing annoyed over her constant interruption.

“You will be minded until your knowledge is sufficient to work without close observation,” he began, his voice coming out a growl and his dark eyes sharp. “I intend for you to be apprised of the information prior to official public announcements, and in the event of my death, you will rule with the help of my advisors until an heir takes over. Never before has a Queen been given information before being released to the public. However, I believe you would be able to conduct yourself appropriately.”

Alina took another step back away from Brendan as her face grew pale.

“Would my opinion on said decisions and announcements have any effect?”

Brendan felt his will begin to fortify against her wrath.

“No. You would merely be aware of what was happening.”

“You said an heir. Not… our heir. Or our son.” Alina’s heart was racing, she wasn't sure why that particular ambiguous wording had struck out to her, but the rest of the world had faded away, all she saw was the object of her fury.

Especially when she saw the slightest flinch in the corner of Brendan’s eyes.

No one else would have been able to see it, but she had learned the meaning of the tiniest movements in his face.

“Do you already have children, Your Majesty?”

The guards that had been drawing nearer to the couple halted in their tracks and slowly backed up several steps.

Brendan continued to stare down coldly at her.

“I do not.”

Alina folded her arms slowly across her middle, her gaze intense, despite the occasional tear still falling. “Then why did you word it like that?”

Brendan wasn’t sure why his palms were beginning to sweat.

He had faced far more savage and bloodthirsty opponents. Yet he hadn’t felt so… off balance since the first year following his coronation… why?

“Your Majesty?” Alina’s sharp tone brought him back to the present, and perhaps it was because she had jarred him from his thoughts that he spoke before considering his words more carefully.

“It is a well known fact your mother had significant troubles carrying children. For your safety it has been discussed that other possible heirs may be selected.”

“Are you… telling me…” Alina took a slow deep breath as she felt the threat of an attack drawing nearer. “That you intend to take a mistress… or that you never intend us to have children?”

Brendan suddenly felt sick. A strange fear unlike anything he had ever known was quickening his pulse. All because of the ragged hurt in her voice that made him feel as though he needed to vomit, or that he was consciously stopping his hands from shaking.

“My vassals were the ones to make the suggestions,” he managed to say after a moment of quiet passed between them.

“You… are such a coward. You’re considering it and don’t want to own up to it.” Alina’s voice had quieted, and for some reason that made her words cut Brendan all the more deeply.

“There is no reason to address this with you as a decision has not been made,” he replied, though it was growing harder to keep his voice level… there was a rattling in his chest that told him he was nearing an end of his patience. It would be wise for him to leave the situation to calm down soon.

“Oh no, a decision has most definitely been made. This is like us getting married all over again. You decide things about my Godsdamn life without making me a part of the discussion. I thought you had moved past this, but I suppose I was wrong.”

“I am not going to ignore the concerns of my supporters and your potential death. I am considering which outcomes would be best for everyone involved,” Brendan replied as he noted Alina’s toes turning away from him.

“Well let me tell you why you’re wasting your time thinking about such things, Your Majesty.” Alina’s gaze was intense, angry, and pained, and it made the King’s shoulders hunch as the twist in his gut worsened.

“I will never stay with a man who is willing to take a mistress while married, doesn’t consult with me about matters that affect our married life, or… won’t be willing to give me children. I believe in light of this discussion w-we should end the engagement here. I-I will inform my father.” Alina stepped away from him, and instinctively Brendan reached for her, but instead of the advancement of the guards forcing him to stop, it was the burning touch of a woman’s hand as Katarina Ashowan turned her angry golden eyes to him.

“You will leave her alone, or you will be on the next boat to Troivack.” Katarina Ashowan’s tone was deadly, and despite her being a mere daughter of a Viscount, Brendan could tell that she intended to have her way- or at the very least become a rather large annoyance in his life should he disobey.

So he stared at Alina’s retreating back, his hand gripped into a fist, then turned back to Katarina who had removed her hand but was watching him calmly.

“Good evening, Your Majesty.” The redhead then executed a flawless curtsy, and left him alone outside the castle as the last of Alina’s maids followed her.

Brendan’s hand moved to the hilt of his sword before he turned and began taking long strides back down the way they had come.

He needed to calm down. Fast. Sparring. Yes. That always helped...

The Troivackian king hoped taking the long way to the barracks meant there was a chance he’d burn a small fraction of the ire and strange throb that wracked his heart and stomach. Otherwise, there was a greater chance of accidentally killing whoever he sparred with.

By the time he reached the ring however, he knew was far from being calm. If anything the movement had fanned the flames of whatever it was he was feeling. To make matters significantly worse, standing just outside the entrance of the ring, was none other than Lord Finlay Ashowan.

The Viscount was shaking hands with one of the King’s elite Knights who then bowed to the Lord and strolled back towards the castle- most likely for an ale with his comrades without noticing Brendan.

When the Viscount turned around, he appeared perfectly at ease and unaware of the looming threat.

“Ah, Your Majesty. How was your walk with the Princess this evening?” Fin asked pleasantly.

Brendan didn’t answer, instead he continued striding straight towards the Viscount, then grabbed the tall slender man by the front of his tunic, making his eyes widen in surprise just before the Troivackian and threw him into the ring forcefully.

A small burst of wind softened the Fin’s fall as he landed squarely on his feet, his blue eyes beginning to glow as the sun touched the horizon and set the sky ablaze in bright red.

“Your Majesty, what in the world are you doing?” Fin’s voice was annoyingly calm, despite Brendan slamming the gate closed behind himself. He drew his sword, and continued moving purposefully closer to the Viscount.

Fin blinked in surprise.

“Spar with me, witch. I want to see what kind of great power it is that Daxarians have such unwavering faith in.”

The King swung his sword half heartedly at Fin, more as a warning, only for the Viscount to duck easily and side step the monarch, his eyes narrowing.

“Your Majesty, if you would like to discuss whatever it is that has-” Fin leapt back as another slash of the King’s sword swept near his middle, ripping his tunic.

“Now see, my wife just purchased that for me and she might take exception to it already being ruined,” the Viscount informed the King while stepping backwards again as though they were having a casual discussion.

“Your son fought me the same way. Letting me think I had the upper hand until I gave him no choice,” Brendan observed darkly as he shifted the hilt of his sword into his other hand threateningly.

Fin held up his hand, a frown slowly lowering his brow as he took proper stock of the murderous intent in the king's eyes.

After a brief moment of consideration, Fin let out a small breath, and raised his eyebrow in resolution.

“Right. I can see you’re rather upset about something, and you are quite literally asking for this…” Fin began wryly as the King stepped closer, his body ready for violence.

“You’re bloody well right I am.”

“I suppose this was a long time coming... One final thing before you cool down then,” Fin's mouth curved into a small humorless smile that dissolved any notion Brendan had of trying to hold back.

“Can you swim?”

The King opened his mouth to demand why the Viscount would ask such a question, when Fin’s hand suddenly shot out and grasped the front of Brendan's tunic, drawing him closer. Brendan was about to cut the Viscount down where he stood, when a strange force overtook him, holding him still.

The witch’s blue glowing eyes began shining brighter, and brighter, lightning began crackling down around them, scorching the packed earth beneath their feet. Brendan could taste the lightning in the air, he could feel the earth trembling and… there was... something that was beginning to push him.

He had never felt anything in his life like it before, it was as though the earth itself was rejecting Brendan from its ground.

Then, there was an explosion of power that sent Brendan higher into the sky than he could have fathomed, his sword lay forgotten far below- he hadn't even been aware of the moment he'd dropped it. He sailed the rooftops of Austice, saw the castle shrinking away… and then… he realized he was over the Alcide Sea, and it was rushing up to greet him until at long last he plunged beneath the inky waves that were already cast in the city’s shadow.

The moment the foam of his crash began to clear, he began to flail against the bitter chill of darkness and water around him. He kicked against its weight as it pulled at his heavy boots. He looked around as he struggled, and saw only blackness... and nothing.

The abyss was calling him like in his nightmares… dragging him into their depths…

His heart pounding, his panic growing… why wasn’t the sky growing closer?

Then, in a moment of sudden clarity…

Brendan realized that he had stopped swimming.

At some point, he had stopped kicking and thrashing, and was simply adrift underwater. He turned his face upwards, his lungs beginning to burn.

Above him was more trouble, more problems he would have to face, and Alina was leaving him…

In the abyss... it was all over. There was nothing. No pain, the voices of his peoples cries and demands silenced.

Henry would take over the throne for Troivack, and knowing him, would marry for love. He would struggle at first, but he was far better equipped than Brendan had first been…

Troivack country would mourn his death for a month, but then he too would fade from peoples hearts and minds.

It didn’t matter that Brendan had sacrificed every promise of warmth or happiness for his citizens… his sacrifice merely prevented his people's hunger from igniting towards one another.

He began to sink further into the cold depths.

Peace could be his in a matter of minutes.

All of his anger was gone here. Nothing... nothing was precisely what he had always feared wanting.

He closed his eyes.

Instead of even more of the darkness he desired, all he saw was...

Alina smiling at him the day at the theater.

Then, the time she had told him she didn’t want him to be alone, her golden hair glowing in the firelight behind her.

The day she had told him she was glad she had chosen him.

The day she had kissed him…

When she had said she would end their engagement... the pain and disappointment in her teary eyes...

Slowly, Brendan began to kick towards the surface, his eyes opened, and felt as though they were burning.

‘At the very least… if she is going to end things… I need to tell her that I’m sorry.’