As the dinner wound on, the conversation slowed down until dessert was brought out.

“What in the world is this?” Timur asked, poking his spoon at the chocolate ice cream.

“Ice cream! It’s a common treat back in my world. I made it using my magic and some experimenting,” said Frances, beaming as Timur swallowed a spoonful. His eyes practically lit up, his ears standing on end.

“This is the food of Galena,” he murmured, shoving another spoonful in his mouth.

“I’m really glad you like it,” said Frances. “One day, when the war is over, I hope to experiment with making more food from Earth.”

“Would you do it as a career?” asked Timur, wiping his lips with his handkerchief.

Frances swallowed her ice cream, lips pursed in thought.

“No, I want to keep being a mage. I’m not entirely sure what I’m going to be doing after the war, but I feel I want to keep helping people and protecting those that can’t protect themselves.”

“That sounds like a fantastic goal, though,” said Timur.

“Thanks, but I feel like that’s not the only thing I should be doing. I feel like I could do more, you know? Not just casting spells, but trying to help people in other ways,” said Frances. Taking another spoonful of her ice cream, Frances asked, “What about you, Timur?”

The prince looked thoughtful, “Well, I don’t know. If… well… if we win the war, and my father’s still alive, I’m going to be doing much of what I was doing. Going around, talking to people and smoothing out little problems here and there. I’ll have more free time, though, so I was thinking I would visit you.”

Frances blinked. “You really think I’ll still be here if your father wins the war?”

“He’s not going to conquer all the human kingdoms. He just wants certain pieces of land restored to Alavaria,” said Timur.

Frances stared at Timur. She didn’t know a lot about Thorgoth, but what she did know and the brutality of the war he was conducting, suggested that the king was someone who did very much want to conquer the human kingdoms.

That and he was an abuser. Someone who was hurting his children and had no, he was still cursing Timur!

“But anyway, I know I’m not good at much, but if I continue to be useful to him then he’ll give more responsibilities and I’ll be able to help serve my country better,” said Timur.

Frances frowned, “How… Timur, who tells you you’re not useful?”

“Well, my record speaks for itself. My first major battle at Vertingen I screwed up. I nearly failed the extraction mission at Conthwaite and well, every mission dad has ever given me I always could have done better. I always disappoint him, and his court always whispers about how pointless I am, but he always still gives me more opportunities to try.”

Frances blinked. That didn’t make any sense. Timur was intelligent, smart, and seemed to have very good judgement. She could understand why his father might discourage him, but for nobody else to see his talents?

“But what about your friends?” she asked.

Timur winced. “Yeah, about that… I don’t have any friends apart from well, you, and Olgakaren. She’s always encouraging me, but I know she’s trying to just make me feel better. I mean, she’s like my only friend. Everybody else at dad’s court… well they see me as the weird prince.”

“I see.” Frances didn’t understand. She just felt an odd feeling about what Timur was saying. She could tell however that he was incredibly lonely. There seemed to be nobody else in his life apart from Olgakaren and his father.

His father, who was an abuser.

“What… what if Alavaria loses the war?” Frances asked quietly.

Timur swallowed, looking rather uncomfortable. “Well, that would make my sister the heir and she hates me. So I think I would better get the hell out of Alavaria. And um, maybe stay over with you, if you’d let me?”

Frances smiled, “Of course I would. Though, I don’t think your sister is that bad.”

“Frances, she nearly tried to kill you, several times,” said Timur, arching an eyebrow. “Not only that she’s a bitch.”

Frances’s smile faded. It was true Titania was quite horrible to her, but she suspected that what Thorgoth had done to her played a key role in her attitude.

“Do you know why she acts the way she does, though?”

Timur frowned. He looked like he was about to say something, only to frown and splutter. “To be honest, no. Hmm, maybe you have a point. It’s just… she really shouldn’t act like that. I mean it would be so much easier to talk to her if she was more like… well you.”

Frances felt her cheeks warm. “Timur, there are going to be parts of me you are not going to like!”

“Yes, I know, I know, but it would be nice if she and others just listen sometimes as you do,” he said. Timur finished his ice cream with a somewhat unprincely-like lick of his bowl, before dabbing his lips with his handkerchief. “I… I really enjoyed tonight, Frances. It’s the most fun I’ve had in some time.”

Smiling so wide her lips hurt a bit, Frances blinked back the moisture in her eyes. “I’m really happy you did.”

The pair got up, tucking their chairs under the table, and by unspoken agreement, walked towards each other. Their hands touched, Frances’s small hands engulfed by Timur’s much larger six-fingered hands.

“Do… do you want to walk the gardens a bit?” Frances asked.

Timur sighed, “I do, but I need to talk with Antigones and Titania about tomorrow’s negotiations. How about we meet tomorrow night again?”

Frances nodded, a little disappointed, but eager for the next day. “I’d like that,” she said softly.

Grinning, Timur stepped back and lifted Frances’s right hand, bringing it to his lips. A tingle ran up her arm as his lips brushed by her knuckles.

“Well then, I bid you goodnight, milady.”

“Good night!” Frances squeaked. The giddy feeling she got from his kiss didn’t even fade as he walked away towards the greenhouse exit, waving back at her.

The morning that broke over the city of Erlenberg was sunny. With spring being nearly over, the thunderstorms and showers that plagued the season were growing more infrequent as well.

It was on this day that the most shocking news broke across Erlenberg.

Frances had gone to bed with the last vestiges of euphoric joy still in her veins. When she awoke, she was still a little giddy. She was in fact, giddy enough to hum as she went about her morning routine.

Even when not on campaign, Frances rose early. Most of this was just a habit, but rising early did allow her to do some morning exercises. Usually, she went on a jog or did a light workout. When not encamped, rising early also allowed her to spend some time in the bathroom and get a nice long soak after her morning exercise. If she was encamped, she usually had a quick wash using a bucket and some soap. It was only after this bath that she went for breakfast.

Frances had just started to put on her dress for the day when someone started banging on the bathroom door. That was odd, but Frances quickly did up the strings of her dress and opened the door.

Ayax was standing outside her door, still in her black nightdress as she was a late riser. When Frances studied her cousin’s aghast expression, she found her heart sinking.

“Helias killed himself. They’ve delivered his head to us.”

“That’s… what? Why did he kill himself?” Frances stammered.

“We don’t know! We think Alavaria might be lying and that he’s still secretly alive, but well, his head was given to us. Eleanor wants you and every mage we have to look at it,” said Ayax.

Swallowing, Frances nodded. “Give me a few minutes.”

Frances and her friends sat in every available space in Frances’s room. Bed, chairs, and floor, they all rested on them in various poses. Frances however was pacing across the room, making sure to step around a grumbling Ginger on the floor.

“So it is Helias’s head?” Martin asked.

Frances shook her head. “We don’t know. There’s no magic on it, or at least, no magic we can see.”

Ayax piped up from her spot on the bed, where she was kneeling on the mattress. “What I saw was a tauroll head that looks like Helias, but to be honest… I don’t know Helias well. It might just look like his head.”

Frances nodded. “Ophelia also had a look on it and she thinks that magic could have been used to shape or perhaps make the head look like Helias’s, but there’s nothing on the head itself that is enchanted and trying to fool us.”

“We do know, though, that Helias won’t be above killing someone to take his place,” said Martin, from his spot on a chair. He had curled his feet underneath him in what looked like a very uncomfortable position.

Ginger waved her hands. “Hold on, maybe I’m dumb but why are we all so suspicious about this? The Alavari are essentially giving us what we demanded, which is a dead Helias.”

That question had the teens glancing at one another.

“That’s not a dumb question, love. We are all in agreement that there is something suspicious about this, even if Alavaria is essentially giving us what we want,” said Martin.

“It’s from who this is from that is strange.”

Everybody’s eyes turned to Elizabeth, who was lying on Frances’s bed, her head on Ayax’s lap, her hands steepled over her stomach.

“Timur didn’t tell you about this right, Frances? Neither did Titania or Antigones? This was from the camp. So he decided to do this all on his own without talking to anybody,” said Elizabeth.

“Well, supposing that he really did just kill himself. He might not have been in his right mind,” said Ginger.

“You’re correct, Ginger, but then why not tell his compatriots of his plans?” Elizabeth asked.

Ayax ran her fingers through Elizabeth’s hair. “He could have decided on the spur of the moment. Apparently, he fell on his sword and bled out.”

Frances stopped pacing. “He could have. The problem is that if it’s not Helias, Alavaria will have managed to extricate their army without paying us anything.”

“And given what Elizabeth and Ayax have told us about how defiant Helias was when they fought him… it doesn’t seem in character,” said Martin.

Ginger grimaced, “So what do we do?”

Frances took a deep breath. “We need more evidence that they’re not tricking us. I’ll have to ask Timur to see if he can check. But first, there’s something I need to check first.”

This isn’t going to go great, isn’t it? Ivy asked Frances as she knocked on the door to Renia’s office.

“Only if she is Neria, Ivy, which she can’t be. I mean… okay yes it would all make sense as Erlenberg would be the only place Neria could go to, but I still find it unlikely,” said Frances.

True, and it would be better to just get this mystery unearthed as soon as possible, rather than stewing on it. Besides, if she isn’t Neria, we can ask her why Timur seems so unsure of himself.

Frances nodded as Renia called out, “Come in!” As she entered the room, Frances found Renia at her desk, looking over her files.

“Good morning, Frances. How are you doing today?” asked the harpy.

“I’m well. I just have…” Frances winced. “Sorry, this is going to sound very odd, but I have a few questions for you that I’d like to ask and one of them is very strange.

Renia smiled serenely, “I’ve heard a lot of strange questions, Frances. Go ahead and ask.”

Frances swallowed and fixed her attention to Renia’s face. “Have you heard of a harpy called Neria Dawnfeather? She was the lover of Prince Teutobal of Alavaria.”

Renia kept smiling, but she flinched and her eyes widened just a touch. She’d controlled herself very well, though, and if Frances hadn’t been looking for something like that she’d probably have missed it.

“I’m afraid not,” said the harpy, but her eyes looked away.

Oh, dear.

Frances swallowed, “Renia, you’re Neria, aren’t you?”

The harpy shook her head and met Frances’s eye. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Only, she was trembling, very slightly, but Frances could see it.

Master, we shouldn’t press her. She’s not ready to tell us. I mean, we know now, right?

“Yeah we do, but… well there is something we do need to tell her,” Frances thought to Ivy. Her wand, seeing what she was thinking of, gave an affirmative thought.

Frances took a deep breath. “I won’t tell anybody, but I think I should let you know that Morgan… she’s doing well. Timur says he stays with her whenever he can and has made sure she has some very good tutors. They’ve discovered that she has magical talent and she can’t wait to start training. I’m… I’m sorry.” With that, Frances turned to leave.

“Frances, please stay,” said Renia, her voice soft.

Frances turned around. The harpy had buried her head in her wings.

“How did you find out?”

Frances took out Ivy’s Sting. “Give me a moment to seal the room.” At the harpy’s nod, Frances cast a spell to lock the door, deafen the room and seal it. Only then did she take a seat. “Timur was telling me about his brother, you, and Morgan. Your name… it’s too similar to Neria Dawnfeather. I thought that was just a coincidence, but then Timur mentioned that Neria was a courtesan that had your eyes and plumage. Ivy and I also realized your ages matched.”

Renia’s head snapped up. “He doesn’t know, right?”

“No. We were talking about Morgan. I mentioned your first name and he thought it was a weird coincidence, but that’s all,” said Frances.

Renia’s shoulders sagged. Her voice broken, she whispered, “What do you want to know?”

Frances felt her heart ache and she reached out her hand to touch the harpy’s wing. “I don’t need to know anything, Renia. If you would like to share, I’m happy to listen, but… I didn’t think you were her. I just had this suspicion I was trying to clear up and… it just turned out I was right.”

The harpy stared at Frances, her expression torn.

“There is something you should know, though. You mentioned that King Thorgoth abused Titania. She’s not the only one of his children he’s hurt.” Renia closed her eyes and Frances’s eyes widened. She knew that look, that feeling of horror that the harpy was now feeling. It was what she looked like when she was reliving a nightmare.

“Renia, you’re safe. You’re here, in your office,” Frances whispered.

“I know, but you need to know. No… all of Durannon needs to know.” Renia’s tear-filled eyes locked with Frances’s. “Seven years ago, Thorgoth murdered Teutobal to try to start the war.”

A cold chill ran over Frances’s skin. She’d thought she’d seen and experienced the worst the world had to offer. After all, Frances had been beaten and starved by her own parents. She’d been forced to react to the massacre of civilians and she’d been fighting a war for two years now. That was nothing to the incomprehensible terror she felt now.

“He killed his own son? But… Teutobal was his favorite,” Frances stammered.

Renia nodded, “Thorgoth loved Teutobal. At least, I think he did. Everything that I learnt tells me that he did love Teutobal, but something changed. Maybe it was when Teutobal found out about what Thorgoth was doing to Titania. Maybe it was because they disagreed with what to do about the human kingdoms. I don’t know! But he sent assassins to kill us.”

“It wasn’t a storm that sunk your ship then?” Frances asked. She knew it was a stupid question, but her brain felt like it was moving through sludge.

“No. Our own escort, which Thorgoth himself had picked, turned on us. One moment Teutobal and I were kissing. Then suddenly he and I were fighting for our lives with our bodyguards and there was blood and screaming everywhere. We, and a few of our guards were the last survivors and he was dying in my arms. He told me to fly away and he had his ship steered into a gale.”

“Wait, why would he steer his ship into the storm?” Frances asked.

“Because Thorgoth wanted to make it look like we were attacked by humans in their waters and that Teutobal died trying to defend himself. He was trying to start the war, four years before it actually started!” Renia sobbed.

“By using the death of his heir to unite Alavaria against the humans,” Frances stammered. “By making his death look like an accident, he made sure Thorgoth couldn’t use it.”

Sobbing, Renia dabbed the edge of her wing against her eyes. “He was so… good. Too good for me. I… I wasn’t lying when I said I was a bitch. I just… I changed the dates. The lover I talked about… she was before him. I was already out of money in Alavaria and he just helped me without asking me for anything.”

Frances frowned. “But then… What happened in Erlenberg? I mean… I can guess you felt terrible after that, but that doesn’t explain why you had a bad reputation.”

“I deserved it. I… I had to create a new identity from the ground up and… I didn’t know how so I… fell back to bad habits. I tried to target only people that deserved it, but it didn’t help my reputation,” Renia closed her eyes. “I wasn’t strong enough to make my own way.”

Frances blinked. Renia was always so wise, and understanding that it was shocking to see the harpy had her own trauma, and struggles. Another part of Frances reminded her, though, that the harpy was just another living being, trying to make her way in a world that could be cruel, and was very cruel to her.

“Maybe you’re not, but I… I don’t know if any of us are strong enough to survive in the world alone,” Frances stammered. Getting up, she walked past the desk and wrapped her arms around the harpy, which… didn’t quite work as her arms couldn’t wrap around Renia’s wings.

The harpy, however, didn’t seem to mind. She leant into Frances’s embrace, smiling sadly. “Frances… thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Frances whispered.

Titania and Antigones filed into their bedroom, Timur behind them. The trio locked the door behind them and cast privacy spells before sitting themselves down at the table.

“So does anybody know why Helias killed himself?” Timur asked.

Titania threw her hands up in the air. “Believe it or not, I have no fucking clue brother. I thought the bastard didn’t have it in him.”

“I don’t think he killed himself.”

The siblings’ eyes shot at Antigones, who was scowling.

“Helias had no reason to commit suicide and every reason to fake his death,” said the general.

“That… but maybe we just didn’t notice anything. I mean, he did just lose most of his army,” said Timur.

Antigones shook his head. “Timur, Helias wouldn’t have faced any consequences for losing his army to a dangerous foe. That and he has your father’s favour. There’s no reason he would kill himself.”

“Maybe he felt guilty?” Timur asked.

“He’s an experienced general. We can’t afford to let guilt overwhelm us for being defeated or losing soldiers.” The orc’s tone took on a deadpan quality. “Besides, he’s also the Alavari who ordered the massacre of three hundred civilians. I don’t think he’s capable of feeling guilty about anything.”

Timur’s eyes widened. “But… that means… Shit, there’s nothing we can do but push with the terms that Erlenberg gave us. I mean, I suspect that we’ll have to pay them some money, but far less than we initially discussed because we “produced” Helias’s head.”

“You could always just give them a higher amount of gold,” said Titania, shrugging.

Timur fixed his sister with a glare. “That money is coming from our treasury, Titania. It is money that could go to farmers for better equipment, rebuild and maintain roads, expand mine,s and other resource-gathering facilities. I can’t in good conscience, not use this better negotiating position, even if it’s based on a falsehood!”

The prince stiffened, waiting for Titania to retort, only to be met with silence and a contemplative gaze.

“Alright, but what if they find out that Helias is alive?” Titania asked.

Timur took a deep breath. “Well, then we are fucked. Everybody’s going to hate us for negotiating a withdrawal on false pretenses.”

“Can’t we just admit that we think Helias faked his death?” Titania demanded.

Antigones shook his head, whilst Timur groaned, “We’d be saying, “Sorry, we lost a general!””

“Ah.” Titania crossed her arms, brow furrowed in thought. “Damn this is a shit tornado, guess we can only use this to our advantage.” She glanced at Timur. “So, what are you going to tell Frances?”

The colour drained from Timur’s face. Without another word, he got up and walked to the exit.

“Good luck,” said Titania.

“Sister, shut up,” Timur hissed, not looking back. He slammed the door behind him.

Titania winced. “I was being serious, bro.” Sighing, she glanced at Antigones who shook his head.

“Give him some time,” said Antigones. “You need to keep trying.”

Titania nodded, “I know. It’s just… It’s hard when he’s the favourite child.”

“Dear, you do realize Timur thinks you’re Thorgoth’s favourite child?” Antigones asked.

“Urggh, don’t remind me.”

Martin saw Timur and Frances exit the carriages that took them to the Windwhistler manor and leave together. At this point, nobody in the party batted an eye.

“That’s going to end poorly,” Ginger mused.

“I hope not, for Frances’s sake,” said Martin, watching Frances and Timur walk side by side, talking in whispered voices. A soft bump against his hip tore his gaze from the pair to his lover, who was crossing her arms. “What is it?”

“She’s going to be fine, Martin. Come on, we need to go meet Mara again, or have you forgotten?” Ginger asked.

“Meet—Oh, yes. She was going to tell us what her plan was,” said Martin.

“Plan for what?” Ayax asked, sidling up with Elizabeth.

“Oh, hey kitten. Just talking about the meeting with Mara and um, the you-know-what in Erisdale,” said Ginger.

“The possibility of civil war?” Elizabeth asked quietly.

“Yes,” Martin whispered. He blinked. “Why don’t you join us?”

Mara welcomed Elizabeth and Ayax happily into the room they were meeting in and once everyone got settled and Ginger and Martin explained that they told Elizabeth and Ayax, Mara launched into her plan.

“So our plan is to try to hit the ground running. Conthwaite is going to come out on the side of the reformers so the attention gets put off you two and on us instead. Before that happens of course, we’re going to tell our moms.”

“Okay, so… we need to convince them not to hate me?” Ginger asked.

“That’s the easy part. The hard part is that we need to build relationships with some of the more reasonable traditionalist nobles. To do that you and Martin are going to have to meet with them and try to sway them to, if not to our side, to at least stay neutral. Essentially, you need to negotiate with them to agree with some of the policies we are going to suggest to the king,” said Mara.

Martin swallowed, “That’s… going to be pretty hard.”

Elizabeth raised her hand. “Um, if it’s not too rude to ask, why can’t you do it Mara?”

Wincing, Mara dipped her head. “Ah, about that… since I left on such bad terms with Darius, the nobles from the traditionalists are going to receive me more negatively. You won’t be alone, I will be talking to several nobles, but I need your help to talk to those I can’t.”

“Wait, hold on you mean you need me to show up to a party of nobles and convince them to join us,” Ginger asked, pointing to herself.

Mara nodded, smiling brightly. Martin nodded too. However, he slowly stopped, and his eyes widened.

Ginger snorted, thumbing over to Martin. “Yeah, he gets it. Me meeting them is a terrible idea. They take one look at me and they’ll throw a hissy fit. I’m like the prime reason why it isn’t good for nobles to mingle with commoners.”

“Ginger, I think you’re being too hard on yourself,” Elizabeth said.

Ayax nodded, “I agree, though, I also think you’re correct, Ginger.” The troll flashed Ginger a wry grin. “No offence, Ginger, but it’s going to be difficult for you to charm the nobles.”

“And I’m not going to be much help.” Martin faced Mara, his features filled with distress. “Sister, I have been fighting on the frontlines and making it a point to avoid socializing. I am pretty sure I won’t be able to make a good case.”

“That and with the ongoing war, I don’t think the Lightning Battalion can afford to lose Ginger and Martin,” said Elizabeth, scratching the back of her head. “Ginger’s one of our best company commanders and Martin’s our chief logistics officer.”

“Wait, the Lightning Battalion is becoming a permanent formation?” Ginger asked. This was news to her. She’d hoped that the Lightning Battalion wouldn’t be disbanded after the siege of Erlenberg, and she didn’t think it would. However, it was nice to know this was official.

Elizabeth slapped a hand against her head. “Oh, shoot, I forgot to tell you all about it. Yes, the Lightning Battalion just got its formal commission and new orders. We’re being commissioned under the Erlenbergian Army as the 72nd Erlenbergian Battalion — Double-Strength. We’re reporting to both Erlenberg and Erisdale in our next mission, defending the Erlenberg-Erisdalian border against Alavari raiding parties.”

“What does double-strength mean exactly?” Ayax asked, tail flicking with curiosity.

“So a battalion is usually between four hundred and a thousand soldiers. A double-strength battalion has double that.” Ginger bit her tongue and did some math. “So our total strength is either going up to eight hundred or two thousand. Typically they’re only assembled for special assignments, however.”

“Wait, so they’re expanding us? Why?” Martin asked, eyes widening. “And where are they getting the soldiers from?”

“Mainly from Erlenberg and Erisdale, and yes, more convict soldiers. These actually volunteered to join us. To be exact, we’re getting another cavalry company, two infantry companies, two convict companies, and what I’m most excited about, an artillery company. That’ll bring our numbers up to two hundred cavalry, eight hundred infantry, and seven cannons along with their crew.” She glanced at Mara. “As to why it’s to do with our new job. We’re going to be countering Alavari raiding parties and defending flashpoints along the western Erisdalain front, near the Temple of Heroes. If I recall correctly, that’s near a lot of minor traditionalist lords and ladies.”

“Ah, I see what you’re getting at Elizabeth. This assignment would provide an excellent opportunity for you to visit these lords and ladies without straying too far from the Lightning Battalion,” said Mara, grinning.

Ginger groaned, “You’re missing the point. I still won’t be able to convince them. I’m just a filthy convict after all. I mean, argh!” The redhead sighed. “Look, even I sometimes can’t see myself as anything other than a convict, how do you expect nobles who haven’t experienced what I have to think otherwise?”

Martin gently put a reassuring hand on Ginger’s shoulder, but the group fell silent.

Ginger wished her cup was filled with wine, but took a deep gulp of water anyway. Honestly, she knew she shouldn’t be complaining but she was just so damn tired of feeling… feeling like she didn’t matter. She was aware Martin sometimes felt like this, and she’d noticed the girls, especially Frances, making their best efforts to include him. The thing though, was that what Ginger felt was different. Ginger knew that her love wasn’t afraid of being truly useless. He was worried he couldn’t contribute to a group of exceptional people. She was afraid that all the ugliness inside of her was holding her friends back and hurting them.

“Ginger, what if we got engaged?”

The words had left Martin’s mouth before he had even realized it. They’d flown, like birds darting from a cage, unimpeded, with such haste that it took a moment for his brain to catch up.

Everybody that is, all the women in the room turned to Martin, their eyes wide. Ginger was the last, a humoured half-smirk on her features until her eyes met his.

“What?” she whispered.

Martin swallowed and nodded because while his words were hasty, unthought and careless, once his mind had caught up, he’d realized something important.

He had been quite serious about that statement.

“You’re joking?” Ginger stammered.

The knight pursed his lips and thought for a moment.

In Erisdale, marriage and engagements were flexible arrangements but backed by a core of key traditions. Marriage and engagements were commitments, of a different scale, but were nonetheless, public commitments for a couple that symbolized their devotion for one another.

They could be broken and amicably so but were not to be done so lightly. So to ask for marriage, or to be engaged… that was a significant thing to do. One should only do so if their partner was one they trusted, loved, and wished to share their life with.

The thing was… at this moment, Martin felt that what he had with Ginger met most of those requirements.

The siege had started just after winter had ended and had ended just around the end of spring. He’d known Ginger for almost four months, most of which he’d spent with her in intimate and close proximity. He could live with her. He knew that she’d die for him, and he would die for her. He’d come incredibly close to losing her and that feeling alone had been harder than he could bear.

Were they perhaps a bit too close? Did they perhaps need some time to figure out who they were as their own person in a relationship? Yes. Renia had told him so in private, and he suspected the harpy had also told Ginger as well. Right now though, an engagement would offer one rather significant advantage to Ginger.

“I’m not joking, Ginger. I do want to get engaged because I love you, I do want to get married to you in time, and there is something that an engagement will give you that will help us both in the task ahead.”

Mara, jaw working, suddenly froze, before snapping her fingers. “Brother you’re a genius! So what if Ginger’s a convict. If she’s your betrothed, approved by our parents, then the nobles will have to give her a chance!”

“Wait, holdup! It’s an engagement! If the nobles get any idea that we’re doing this just to sway them they’ll—”

“I’m not doing them just to sway them.” Martin got off his chair and got down onto his knee.

Ginger felt like she’d just had her breath knocked out of her. Her hands clamped over her mouth because she didn’t want to make another sound. If she did, she was worried that she’d wake up from whatever dream this was.

“Ginger, I love you. I don’t have a ring at this moment. I know that things may change. We might fall out of love and we’re in a war for Amur and Rathon’s sake. I just know right now that I want to be engaged to you if you will have me.”

Ginger wiped her eyes, yet nothing she did could stem the flow of tears.

“If we do all of this just to break up, this will really suck,” she croaked.

Martin laughed, “Oh I know!”

“But… if I do want to end this, you’ll let me, right?” Ginger whispered.

Because as much as Ginger loved her knight, part of her was still worried… If something went wrong, or even if nothing did, would she be able to choose? Especially after making such a commitment? She’d fought so hard to be free, what if she was just going to be shackled again?

“I won’t stop you. I promise.” Martin winced. “I mean I’ll beg and cry and probably mope, but I won’t stop you.”

Ginger knew that Martin wouldn’t stop her in her heart, but his words gave her the last bit of strength she needed.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” said Ginger. Smiling so wide it hurt, she grabbed Martin and kissed him full on the lips. “Then that’s a yes."