Sitting beside her father, her crown resting atop her braided hair and her velour emerald mantel around her shoulders, she waited, her chin raised regally for her kidnappers to be escorted in. Her lips were painted a bright red that had at first earned many skeptical glances from the matronly crowd. It had after all been Kat’s idea… she believed it would make a bold statement, and at first Alina had merely felt like a painted trollop when she’d gazed at herself in her mirror still wearing her chemise. Once dressed, however, she agreed…

It made her feel a little fierce.

Alina’s father sat at her side wearing his official finery. His crown, his ring with the royal seal on his finger, his own emerald mantel, and his beard trimmed to the perfect point it had always been.

“Bring in the prisoners,” Norman’s voice rang out imperiously as he sat with his arms casually draped over the arms of his throne. The only contradiction to the rest of his body being the cold murderous intent in his hazel eyes.

The doors opened, and in were pulled Patrick and Dexter, both looking gaunt and dirty from their time in the castle dungeon.

While Dexter kept his dark eyes downcast and his jaw clenched shut as he strode stiffly past the whispering nobles, Patrick visibly winced and rounded his shoulders over his bony form.

“Presenting Patrick Ludoff of Ovin, and Dexter Cremon, mercenary of Rollom,” Mr. Howard’s tone was disdainful as he eyed the two dirty men who were being forced to their knees before their King.

“You are being charged with kidnaping, assault and battery, and plotting the murders of Her Highness, Princess Alina Reyes, Lady Katarina Ashowan, and Mr. Reese Flint. How do you plead on these charges?” Norman’s sharp, imperial voice succeeded in even making Dexter recoil.

Patrick immediately folded himself in half in a bow. “S-Sire, w-we had no idea s-she was the Princess, o-or rest a-assured, we would have never-”

“Ohhh, I don't know about that. I introduced who we were that first night. Don’t you remember, Patrick?”

Every eye in the room flitted to where Lady Katarina Ashowan was being pushed through the crowd of nobles in the strange contraption called a ‘wheelchair’ by her father the Viscount. The infamous house witch was typically perceived as a man incapable of looking threatening by most who had encountered him, that is, until they saw the way he regarded the two prisoners before the King.

Kat sat in the chair, her long brilliant red hair falling about her in elegant waves, while she wore a burgundy dress with a golden belt. She had her elbow leaned on the armrest of the chair, and her bright golden eyes trained on the two men with a disconcerting glint in her eyes.

“Y-Y-You made it sound like a joke!” Patrick attempted to refute, his eyes darting back and forth from the King to the young noblewoman.

“Really? Even after you realized Knights were positioned at every road looking for the missing Princess? Why wouldn’t you verify? Or better yet, why is kidnapping people fine if they aren’t nobility?” There was a magical glimmering streak that pulsed through Katarina’s eyes that made more than a few nobles around her recoil.

“Your Majesty,” Dexter interrupted without sparing Katarina a glance. “Should this not be a matter discussed and decided amongst these young women's guardians? These two have no place in these talks.”

There was a beat of silence in the room.

Then, Norman leaned forward in his throne, his aura deadly, when his daughter’s pale hand reached out and touched his own, stopping him.

Her hazel eyes were fixed on Dexter who still hadn’t raised his gaze.

She stood, and slowly made her way to the edge of the dais, staring down at the men before her the entire time. No one dared to breathe.

“Dexter, you dare to insult the person who will decide your fate?”

Both men’s eyes leapt up to see Alina standing before them, her blonde hair alight from the sunlight pouring in from the windows, casting her in a warm glow.

“Your Highness, you are a fragile-” Dexter began. His tone neither chiding nor condescending so much as weary, as though addressing a bratty child.

“-I am the one you have wronged and the one you should fear. Attempting to call me fragile won’t change that. The only thing fragile about me currently is my patience for you.” Alina stared down at the man emotionlessly.

Katarina smirked from her chair.

“I will speak to you directly to avoid being misunderstood,” Alina continued, her voice quiet yet strong. “As it pertains to myself, Reese Flint, and Lady Katarina Ashowan, I am your judge. My father is here, only to bear witness to my decision after I ask clarifying questions for my fellow nobility to understand your crimes. If this concept eludes you, then there is no point to this trial.”

Dexter shot her a skeptical raised eyebrow, his dark eyes filled with hostility. Alina’s eyebrow raised at the sight, before she then turned and nodded to Brendan Devark, who stood to the right of the stairs to the throne.

The Troivackian who had formerly been a mere statue, strode forward, and plucked the mercenary up by the neck as though he weighed nothing, until his knees lifted from the floor, forcing his eyes to the Princess.

“Show me such an insolent look again, and I will sanction Troivackian justice prior to your death,” she informed him her voice filled with a cutting steeliness.

There were a few women present who gasped, but their husbands quickly gripped their hands, quieting them as they, too, watched the scene transfixed.

After a moment Brendan released the man to gasp on the floor while Alina continued to look upon him without an ounce of concern.

Only Brendan, her father, and Kat knew her knees had buckled the moment Dexter and Patrick had entered the room.

“If I’m already sentenced to die, why bother with this farce of a trial?” Dexter spat despite his voice rasping and the Troivackian King’s presence looming nearby, as though he were prepared to hand the man into death’s carriage himself.

“If you showed remorse, or apologized, asked for forgiveness… many reasons. You seemed a mildly intelligent man before, surely you could see multiple options. Otherwise, your earlier prediction would be correct. This is a waste of everyone’s valuable time.”

Patrick immediately lowered his forehead to the carpet. “I’m sorry, Your Highness! I’m sorry! ‘Will never do it again! I swear it!”

Alina’s eyes cut to him, her teeth clenching together for a moment.

“Now you only grovel for the selfish reason of saving yourself. Not out of guilt of hurting anyone.”

Taking a slow breath in, Alina looked to the back of the throne room, over the heads of the nobles watching the dramatics completely captivated.

She felt the burden then. The burden of being a fair ruler, but wanting revenge. Of wanting to keep the blood of others from her consciousness.

For some reason, her gaze was drawn to Brendan.

His dark eyes locked with hers, and somehow, a deep understanding passed.

He knew exactly how she felt.

It was the burden of ruling.

The balance of being a great ruler, and also human…

“For the sake of transparency, you will recount to these witnesses your plans, and reveal how your crimes came to be. Following that, we will hear from the primary target of your illegal actions, Reese Flint, before finally deciding the extent of your sentence.”

Alina turned and strode back to her throne.

Dexter rolled his eyes until he noticed not only Brendan Devark’s dark stare from the corner, but his brother, Prince Henry, who proceeded to crack his knuckles.

Stiffening for a moment, Dexter then dropped his gaze back to the carpet, which happened to be just in time for Alina to have settled in her chair.

“So, Mr. Dexter Cremon? Patrick Ludoff? We are waiting to hear how this all transpired from your end,” she called out imperiously.

Neither man said anything for a moment, until at long last Patrick, trembling down to the smallest hair of his head, raised his face.

“R-Rosecoe, he… he had a mar-marriage lined u-up between Lorelai’s girl and the local butcher. The deal was… they’d split the dowry… th-that the bard left for her… and sh-she would have to keep tending Roscoe’s house w-with her mother.”

Alina’s left hand gripped her arm rest a little tighter as she resisted the urge to pick at her nails.

“T-The bard stole Lorelai and her girl… a-an’ we couldn’t find them s-so we… hired Dex-Dexter. H-He found out… that the bard had c-come to Austice. An’ after we found him… were gonna grab him, only… the day we found him… th-there was a crowd with him at the tavern. R-Roscoe still wanted to try, and fight to get him, but we stopped him-”

“The brawl.” Alina’s eyes widened as she spoke without managing to stop herself. She remembered the day she had first met Reese and gone to The Wet Whistle, and how they’d all fled because of the strange scuffle.

“Y-Yes. W-We assumed you were a commoner student of his ‘cause of how you were dressed… S-So when we saw you with the other girl…”

Alina closed her eyes.

So that was why they wouldn’t believe it when they kept insisting she was a Princess. They had seen her looking like a commoner twice and in similar company. It made sense that given they’d first seen her at a lowly tavern, and when they kidnapped her wearing similar clothes once again, that there was no reason to think she was royalty.

“Well then,” Alina began, then stopped herself to swallow past a lump in her throat. She didn’t want to think about what had come next.

When her eyes opened and she saw Dexter’s mildly smug expression over her facial expression, she didn’t even need to signal to Brendan.

He had moved in a blur, grabbed the man by the back of his neck, and slammed his head forward to the ground.

Alina stood, stopping Brendan from drawing back Dexter’s head to bang it a few more times for good measure.

She walked forward once more, and slowly descended the steps until the toes of her shoes were mere inches from Dexter’s face on the ground.

“You’ve become tiresome. In light of Patrick’s testimony and your silence, you will await your sentence in the dungeon. I’ve given you your chance.” Brendan wrenched Dexter upwards once more so that he had to stare up from the ground into Alina’s cold gaze.

Indeed…

There was nothing fragile about the woman with lips as red as blood staring down at him.

His eyes widened a fraction before he was hauled out of the throne room, yet he found himself unable to look away from Alina’s gaze as he was dragged from her presence. Alina watched his removal without a flicker of softness, and a few nobles found themselves growing moderately wary of this new side of their Princess.

Once the doors had closed behind Dexter’s departure, Alina finally looked to Brendan, who bowed to her slightly before returning to his place at his brother’s side.

“We will now hear the testimony from Mr. Reese Flint,” Alina announced loudly, though immediately regretted it as her lungs began to rattle.

Her eyes dropped to the floor as she took a slow, steadying breath, then mounted the stairs once more to return to her father’s side.

Once settled in her seat, she took yet another fortifying inhale, then glanced to her father who gave her a questioning look.

She nodded to confirm she was well, and turned her face back to the doors.

Only when they opened, Reese Flint didn’t sail in and start a theatrical retelling as many had come to expect. Despite the fact that he too had been gifted a wheelchair during his recovery, to say he entered with his usual flair would be inacurrate.

His actual entrance surpassed everyone’s expectations... As was his way.

When Reese Flint rolled in, his face still battered and bruised, but raised proudly, behind him was…

A parade.

A parade of rather attractive young men, women, children, a few infants, and their mothers.

For a moment no one understood who they were until certain physical characteristics matching Reese’s began registering amongst the crowd.

“Mr. Flint, what is…” Norman began faintly.

“Your Majesty,” Reese began bowing his head as everyone behind him proceeded to bow or curtsy. “My… family members wished to be here to offer support.”

Norman glanced to Finlay Ashowan, whose jaw had already dropped.

“I… see.” Glancing once more at his daughter who looked equally as stunned, Norman cleared his throat. “Well, shall we try to wrap up this ordeal so that some introductions might be made?”

Reese grinned. “Of course, Your Majesty. I shan't leave out a single wrinkle, nor freckle of a detail.”

He then winked at the nearest noble woman, making the older pretty auburn haired woman behind him pushing his wheelchair smack his head firmly.

“Right. Certain habits are hard to change.”

Unable to help herself, Alina glanced to Kat, and both were unable to hide quivering smiles as the court hearing then took on a very different tone for the rest of the afternoon.

***

Slumped in her throne, alone in the room at long last, Alina gazed outside briefly at the glow of evening sun.

It had been a long trial, though Reese Flint’s dramatic retelling had definitely made things more tolerable for the final two hours…

Sighing, Alina closed her eyes before forcing herself to try and stand, when the throne room doors opened once more.

Prince Henry strode in, his familiar warm smile greeting her as she allowed herself to relax once more into her seat.

“Your Highness, dinner will be starting soon, are you not going to your chamber to rest?” he asked as he moved down the plush red aisle towards the dais.

“My maids are waiting there for me… and they’ve been a little… excitable since I’ve returned. I’m merely enjoying the quiet while I can,” Alina replied before slowly straightening herself in the throne.

Henry’s smile widened as he scuffed his boot on the carpet in quiet understanding.

As she stared down at the man whom she had once considered marrying, Alina felt her newfound confidence suddenly making her less nervous to study the Troivackian more closely…

“Prince Henry, do you act the way you do to protect your brother, or yourself?”

His dark eyes snapped back up, his smile fading immediately as he regarded Alina in silence for a moment. After he continued watching her face as though waiting for some other accusation, he finally let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping forward.

“Neither. My brother protects me as I am because he is a good man. Affability and cheer is my natural disposition, and he… wanted me to have the freedom to keep it. I think because he knew he never could have anything like it. I think allowing me to remain unharmed, and in place in court at Troivack is… an indulgence of his.” Henry shrugged casually after his insight.

“You have no designs for power yourself?” Alina asked calmly, though her eyes remained fixed on his face, alert to any sign of a possible lie.

Henry’s smile grew strained yet understanding. “No. I truly don’t. I was not jesting when I once said to you I was considering seeing how I might fit here in Daxaria.”

Then, shaking his head, he let out a long sigh. “The only thing holding me back was I didn’t want to leave Brendan before making sure there was someone else by his side… someone to keep him human as well as a King. Believe me, I count you a blessing from the Gods. I think everything is… far better like this.”

His smile turned warm once again, making Alina blush.

“Did you…” the Princess cleared her throat uncomfortably while fighting the urge to drop her gaze or pick at her nails. “Did you ever have any interest in my hand?”

Henry winced slightly before his expression turned apologetic. “I’m afraid not. I greatly enjoyed your company and your singing… but I lost my heart to someone else not long ago and it has yet to stumble on home to me.”

Nodding with a sympathetic smile of her own, Alina wearily rose from her throne, and descended the steps until she stood in front of Henry, her hands clasped in front of her skirts.

“I enjoyed singing with you, too.”

Henry bowed in thanks.

“I promise I will take good care of your brother. I love him quite a bit,” she admitted shyly, her earlier strength and iciness nowhere to be found, making Henry regard his future sister-in-law fondly.

“I know you do. I also know you are everything to him, which may be a more challenging role to have than you realize just yet, but… next year when you two marry, you’ll see. Especially once in Troivack.”

Alina’s earlier sweetness melted away as she stared more somberly at Henry.

“I hope that I can count on your help at least for a little while in the beginning of my time in the Troivackian court. Something tells me my trial days are only just beginning.”

Henry bowed once more. “I will do my utmost.”

Nodding her sincere thanks in the quiet, Alina then opened her mouth to suggest they perhaps leave to both prepare for dinner, when the throne room doors opened once again. Brendan strode in, and halted at the sight before him.

His dark eyes surveyed his brother and fiance’s faces coolly for a moment. Then, striding forward, he seized Alina’s hand and gently pulled her away from his brother without a single word.

“Oh-uh, I will see you at dinner, Your Highness!” Alina called over her shoulder as Brendan only slowed his pace fractionally for her.

Chuckling Henry waved after her. “You will indeed! Oh, and Princess?”

Brendan finally stopped so that Alina could turn for Henry’s final message, though he let out a small irritable grunt as he did so.

“I recommend you ask my brother about his night with your father’s inner council. There is a certain story about dragon bones I think you will find most interesting!” Henry’s eyes shone with mischief and as Alina turned to face Brendan to ask him whatever that meant, found her fiance looking incredibly pale and perhaps… a little bit green…

She smiled.

She loved getting to see all of her fiance’s different facial expressions.