“KURO!”

I snapped out of the dream, gasping for breath. I turned and saw Alverd standing beside my bed. He looked as though he had just rolled out of bed himself. His hair was even more unkempt than usual, and his movements seemed sluggish. I looked down, and found that my right hand was grasping the staff from the dream, which I normally kept within arm’s reach. It was Farnus’ staff, a four foot long stick of oak with a twisted end, much like the root of a tree, now marred along its length by the battles I’d faced. I crawled out of my own bed and looked at myself in the vanity mirror in the corner of the room. As usual, I looked terrible.

“You were tossing and turning. Were you dreaming about… home?”

Home. Alverd always knew when I was dreaming about home. It wasn’t all that hard to guess from the way I was clutching that staff. We’d been gone for four, five years? Had it really been that long?

“Yeah. It’s been a few years since we left. And here we are, in the last place we thought we’d ever end up.”

Alverd smirked, but I could sense the pain behind it. Even if it had been several years, the two of us remembered the pain like it had been only yesterday. The images of the children, mostly, still burned in my mind. I pushed away the persistent thought as I tried to clear my head. I splashed some water in my face from the bowl sitting on the vanity, but it did little to help my appearance. “Alverd, do you ever…do you ever think about…” I struggled to finish my sentence, too afraid to bring up the name of the girl in my nightmare.

Laura. The specter of my deepest regret. A mutual childhood friend to both Alverd and myself. Seeing her in the dream with her frenzied expression and wavering voice struck a painful chord. That wasn’t how I wanted to remember her. When I thought of her, I thought of baked goods and juvenile teasing and play-acting in the streets of our home. That dream was the only time I could recall her looking like that, and for that, I was glad.

Before I could finish my sentence, a maid announced herself. She told us that Princess Alicia was expecting us in her quarters. We quickly dressed (I insisted on wearing my usual robe, since I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing fancy clothes) while Alverd donned a formal outfit that would probably have made girls swoon en masse. He had chosen a smart black officer’s suit with golden tassels, complete with white dress gloves and golden cufflinks. Apparently, it was reserved for Ishmarian officers or generals on formal occasions. He looked almost like a noble in those clothes. However, he insisted upon fastening his knightsword to his hip. I didn’t have the strength to argue with him. I decided to leave my staff in the room, against my better judgment. Better not to attract unwanted attention.

Once we finished primping, we quickly made our way to Alicia’s room.

When we arrived, we saw something unexpected. Alicia had traded in her form-fitting leather armor for a very attention-grabbing dress. It was dainty and yet accentuating, a tasteful blue color designed to match her eyes, with white ribbons. The neckline was modest yet deep enough to draw attention and came with long gloves that reached almost to her shoulders, which had poofy, transparent plumes. A golden tiara fitted with eight flawless sapphires was seated upon her head, and she had chosen not to do anything ostentatious with her hair, though she had two braids caressing the sides of her face down to her chin. The gown was obviously the work of a master, a visionary in the clothing arts. And yet, its beauty was completely wasted on the person wearing it. Well, that was my opinion at least.

Alicia’s face was bright red, a stark contrast to all the blue and white. She began fidgeting, her hands pulling at some handkerchief, and eventually, she just lost her temper.

“Well? Do I look good or not?!” She didn’t even make eye contact when she demanded it. She gave the floor a reproachful glare that she probably would have aimed at us had she not been so embarrassed. I was at a loss for words.

Alverd, ever the personification of tact, saved the day with his talent for saying exactly what needed to be said. “You look splendid, my lady. If I could have the honor of escorting you this evening?” He offered his right arm like a perfect gentleman.

Escort? Wait, is there some shindig going down? I flat out asked Alicia what was what.

“What do you mean? Is there a party or something?”

Alicia looked at me with disdain, the color fading from her face as she was distracted from her own embarrassment.

“You know, for such a smart-ass, you really are an idiot. Tonight is the Grand Ball of Succession. All of my family members will present themselves before the King and confirm whether they will attempt to take the throne. Next week, they will ride their dragons against each other in a tournament. The dragons and riders fight to the death, and the last one standing gets to be King. Any survivors must renounce their nobility and leave the country. Forever.”

I knew about the tradition, but only the major details. I decided to ask Alicia more.

“But if you lost your dragon, doesn’t that mean you would have to renounce your claim to nobility as well?” It seemed only logical that she would be excluded on such grounds. Alicia shook her head.

“Normally, no. By not participating, I would still retain my place as a noble, albeit one who bears the shame of losing her dragon by lack of skill. But I plan to enter anyway. And that is why I need the two of you.”

Alverd and I stopped mid-step. Needed us for what?

“Surely, my lady, you don’t expect us to fight in your dragon’s stead?” I pictured the two of us alone in a battle with seven dragons. Yeah. That wouldn’t end well at all.

Alicia laughed. “Hah! You two would be roasted on a spit in seconds. No. I have another solution. But it is dangerous, and I will require your help for it. But I will speak more of it later. First, we have a ball to attend. Sir Alverd, you may escort me. Your friend can just mind himself.” I tried valiantly to strangle the biting retort that wanted to come out of my mouth, barely succeeding.

When Alverdoffered Alicia his arm, her face turned hostile again. “But remember! I’m only doing this because I need your help. Don’t get any ideas, sellsword. If you try anything, I’ll be more than happy to remind you of your place!”

This girl was starting to thoroughly get on my nerves. Stupid nobles with their stupid emphasis on appearances. I didn’t see the point, really. By now, it would be fairly common knowledge what had happened to her dragon. Trying to pretend everything was fine by attending some insipid party in a fancy dress wouldn’t change anything. I had to resist the urge to slap the little brat across the face.

Worst of all, she was treating Alverd like dirt. Granted, Alverd took it with grace, but only because of his “chivalric education.” He may have been too much of a gentleman to hit a lady, but I had no qualms about smacking the haughty tone out of her voice if it went on for much longer. Servant or not, we were people, and I was not going to tolerate-

I was interrupted mid-thought by Alverd glancing in my direction. He gave me a look that said, “drop it.” I was surprised by the severity of it. As quickly as it had come, it was gone and Alverd was all smiles and patience again. I sighed in exasperation, bit my tongue, and decided that it wasn’t worth pursuing. There would be plenty of time later to worry about such trivialities.

Alicia also composed herself, grabbed Alverd’s arm a bit more roughly than she had to, and led him toward the throne room. I followed and wondered to myself what Alicia’s contingency plan could possibly be.

Not much had changed inside the throne room for the Grand Ball in terms of decoration. The chandeliers, however, were ablaze with fresh candles and tables packed with food stood off to the side. The entire middle of the room was alive with dancers twirling across the floor in synchronized harmony, swaying to the music emanating from the musicians sitting in the corner. The King, still on his throne, watched all of it with the same grave look stamped on his face.

Alicia immediately led Alverd to the floor, and the two began to dance as well. Alverd was a terrific dancer. He’s even graceful when he’s wearing his armor. When he was the man could dance like it was the last night of the world; another thing for me to be envious of, I guess. I was born with two left feet, not that I ever had an opportunity to test the validity of that particular saying.

I could see the look of amazement on Alicia’s face, even from where I was standing over by one of the tables. She stepped up her game with a series of complex twirls and fancy footwork, and Alverd easily kept up. It was quite amusing. I could feel a smile tugging at my face. I picked an apple off the table and bit into it, watching as the two weaved and bobbed through the swarm of dancers, moving in time to the music and becoming one with the crowd with every dip and turn.

It’s so easy to forget that there’s joy in life. People dwelt too easily on the negatives, people like me. I guess that's why I thought of Alverd as such a good friend. He’d had plenty of opportunities to give up on me over the past fifteen years. And yet, he never did. He was living proof that the world wasn’t always as hopeless as I thought.

I don’t rightly know how much time passed. Waltz after waltz played, and I had to turn my eyes away from the mesmerizing scene of the dance floor lest I become drowsy. I tried to mingle, but I stood out like a sore thumb in my cloth robe with its blue and gold color scheme. Most of the people dancing and populating the room had black mixed in with their clothes. A few people took note of me but for the most part I stayed out of the spotlight whenever possible.

A fanfare jostled me from my thoughts. All of the dancers cleared out of the center of the room. A second fanfare sounded, and seven people with Alicia being one of them, stepped forth. They stood before the King, two men and five women, and knelt as one with their heads bowed. Beside her siblings, Alicia looked even smaller. There could be no doubt that she was the runt of the litter, which explained her desire to prove herself. The King, with some difficulty, rose from the throne and lifted his hands.

“On this day, we honor our ancestors through our traditions. Today, the children of the dragon will rise up and seize their birthright through strength, as is our custom. The bond between man and dragon will forge a new ruler for our glorious kingdom. Step forth, children of the dragon, and declare your intent!”

One of the men stood. I recognized him as Marcus, the one who had incurred the King’s wrath the day before. He was wearing armor that glinted like gold with a black cape billowing behind him. He wore a helm that resembled the jaws of a dragon, complete with teeth and horns. He removed the helm as he approached the King revealing short blond hair. He did this with a great air of theatricality, swinging his head side to side. I could hear several ladies swoon and giggle to themselves nearby. The cocky bastard even turned in their direction and smirked at them, causing them to giggle more. Finally, the man knelt before the King, and spoke.

“I, Marcus, First Prince, declare my intent to rule the land as King.”

The King waved his scepter over Marcus’s head. “Then it shall be. The First Prince has declared his intent.”

The nobles in the room applauded, and the girls squealed with more girlish laughter as the King made his proclamation. Marcus backed away from the King to take his place in line once again. Another man stepped forth with similarly gaudy armor. He didn’t have a helm, so I got a good look at his face. His hair was even shorter than Marcus’s, and his face had a kind of brutish look to it. He seemed taller and more muscular than Marcus, and when he stepped forward to kneel before the King, I could see that his armor was built around all that extra bulk. I shuddered a bit at the thought.

“I, Deacon, Second Prince, declare my intent to rule the land as King.”

The King repeated his actions and words as he had for Marcus. The nobles applauded again, however there were no girly cries this time. After Deacon had returned to the line, the first of the princesses strode forth. She was a delicate looking thing, shorter than Marcus but taller than Alicia. She was very plain, from her looks to her medium length hair and a height that was not too tall but not too short. Even her dress was uninspired, as it made no effort to accentuate anything, adding to her plain appearance. She knelt before her father and spoke.

“I, Shannon, Third Princess, declare my intent to rule the land as Queen.!”

Again, the nobles clapped. Shannon returned to the lineup. The next girl to come up was, well, drop dead gorgeous by normal standards. A very attractive face, silky hair that reached down to her elbows, and…ahem, let’s just say the gods had been kind to this girl’s figure. The excessively daring dress she was wearing was not helping, either. She wasn’t my type though. I preferred redheads.

The girl sashayed up to the King and bowed deeply. I noticed that several of the young men in the room leaned forward slightly when she did so. I rolled my eyes. Boys will be boys, I thought to myself.

I’d never be attracted to any of these people. Like the two men who had preceded them, these two women both had the same hard eyed looks in their eyes. The eyes of killers. Murderers who reveled in the act of slaughter. I knew that the royal family had participated in the invasion of my homeland. I knew that their King had personally taken to the field to bloody his sword. Each of the royals was a gods-be-damned criminal, parading around in a fancy outfit, pretending to be human. They were all monsters prancing around in fancy clothes as far as I was concerned.

“I, Leila, Fifth Princess, declare my intent to rule the land as Queen.!”

The disparity in order snapped me out of my angry haze.

I muttered to someone standing next to me, “did they just skip someone?” If I knew my mathematics, then I was pretty sure four came after three and before five. Unless basic counting was different here in Dragon Land, which for all I knew, it was.

The person replied, “The one who’s missing is the Fourth Prince, Edgar. They say he ran away a year ago after his dragon went feral. Nobody has heard from him since. It was such a strange incident. I’m afraid I remember little about it.” The man spoke with the bored indifference of what I had come to expect from his ilk. He looked me over, clearly disapproved of what he saw, and turned back to what was taking place. Fine with me.

The next girl was Eliza. She stood before the King and bowed.

“I, Eliza, Sixth Princess, declare my intent to rule the land as Queen.!”

This woman was far different than her siblings. She was maybe as tall as Marcus with unbelievably long, slender legs. She wasn’t wearing a dress, but a modified version of the suit that Alverd was wearing, a dapper officer’s uniform with black cloth and gold tassels. In fact, if the girl didn’t have her modest bust and somewhat feminine low ponytail, I could’ve mistaken her for a man. Even her voice had a masculine tone to it, with a no-nonsense tone to it that indicated that this girl preferred action to words. If that didn’t make it obvious the way she rested her hand upon the rapier at her side spoke it plainly, as did the numerous medals and accolades mounted on her outfit. I realized in horror, however, that she had several trinkets dangling from her belt. Marevarian trinkets.

I recognized several charms that Marevarian knights would carry for protection. She had several rosaries, too. The kind Marevarian mages fashioned as focusing aids for their magic. The woman was brazenly carrying these trophies in public as a point of pride. When I looked at her face, though, I felt a sudden wave of dizziness in my head. Like there was something hiding beneath the surface. Something about the way she looked and carried herself struck a chord in me. I’d never met this girl before. I’m pretty sure I’d remember if I met Ishmarian royalty.

I narrowed my eyes, focusing on her face intently, trying to make sense of this unusual feeling. The woman decided to look in my direction just at that moment, and caught me. She stared back at me with narrowed eyes that almost gave me the impression that she was deciding whether to disregard me or try her rapier out on me for daring to make eye contact. I looked away as quickly as I could and when I finally worked up the courage to look again, she had returned to the line to make way for her younger sister.

The seventh Princess, Deanna, struck a middle ground between Leila and Eliza. She was average height, leanly muscled, and had long hair done up in a magnificent bun with various ornaments. Her gown was a study in contradictions, showy yet decent, tempting yet chaste. Several men’s eyes followed her as she stepped forth and knelt before the King.

“I, Deanna, Seventh Princess, declare my intent to rule the land as Queen.” The King performed his bit, and she stepped down. As she rejoined her siblings in line, any ambient noise in the room ceased.

It was Alicia’s turn.

Alicia strode up to the King with confidence and poise. I could’ve cut the tension in the air with a cleaver. The atmosphere was so heavy. Nobody said a word. All eyes were focused on little Alicia. A few of the nobles began whispering as Alicia passed, and I would’ve put gold on it that none of those whispers were flattering. Alicia, undaunted, continued her walk until she stood in the exact same spot her siblings had been before her. She curtsied in front of her father, awaiting his judgment. After what seemed like an eternity, the King spoke, his voice as passive as glass.

“My dear Alicia. You have no dragon to put forth for this tournament. Have you anything to say?”

I noticed Alicia hesitate ever so slightly. A breath hastily taken, then a pause as if she were trying to summon the words for her situation but stumbled on them. A hushed murmur rose from the crowd.

Then, Alicia mustered her courage and proudly stated, “I, Alicia, Eighth Princess, declare my intent to rule the land as Queen!”

The crowd went into an uproar. I watched from my shadowy vantage point by the fruit table as the verbal chaos erupted in the room. Her father let it continue for only a moment before slamming his scepter on the ground. The noise died quickly but not fast enough; he snarled at the nobles, a visible show of contempt that cowed the remaining rabble-rousers into silence.

After quiet had been restored, he turned again to Alicia. “And how, my dear, do you intend to participate, having no dragon to command?”

Alicia pointed at Alverd. “I intend to take those who wronged me to the Nest. There, I will tame one of the wild dragons. When I return, I will prove my worthiness in the tournament!”

The crowd laughed unanimously. From where I stood, I could see Alicia standing defiant among them, trying hard to maintain an aura of pride and composure. However, even her siblings, save Eliza, were laughing at the poor girl. But no one laughed harder than Marcus, the First Prince.

He strolled leisurely behind Alicia to pat her on the head, his laughter giving way to that cocky smile again.

“My dear baby sister,” he mewled, “the dragons that live up in the Nest are worse than feral. You would not last ten seconds there. There is no shame in accepting a life of luxury. You might as well. I know you wouldn’t survive outside Ishmar.” He turned to the audience. “I’m sure once I’m king, I could find some nice little niche for you. How does my personal court jester sound?” The crowd burst into a fresh round of hysterics, and I saw Alicia’s face waver. Marcus circled her until he was face to face with her, and I got a good look at his expression.

His smile made Alicia’s look as innocent as a newborn puppy by comparison. He continued to insult Alicia. “You know, I’m sure it would be easy for you to learn. You always did know how to make people laugh. Look now! You’ve got everyone in this room in stitches!” The crowd continued to laugh. It wasn’t surprising to me.

Nobles loved being called noble, but they often were anything but. I guess even here in Ishmar what passed for noble was any better than any other corner of the world. The way Marcus carried on while his sister tried valiantly not to cry was nothing short of sadistic. He was so busy mocking Alicia that he failed to notice Alverd removing one of his white dress gloves.

“Don’t cry, baby sister! I’ll take good care of you! You can sit at the foot of my throne with a pretty collar around your neck instead! And when I throw a ball, you can go fetch it for me, and when you bring it back I might give you a piece of food as a reward, like a good little bi-“

The sound of the glove smacking into Marcus’s face brought an immediate silence to the room. Everyone stared in shock and horror as the First Prince reeled from the blow. My jaw practically unhinged. The Prince looked as if he had been stabbed with a bloody knife. Even the King’s eyebrow was raised. Alverd removed his other glove and pulled his sword from his scabbard. I couldn’t hear everything the crowd was saying, but many were expressing shock at how Alicia had apparently allowed one bound by the Rite of Reconciliation to carry a weapon. On top of that, he had just drawn that weapon on a member of the royal family. They whispered amongst themselves, pointing at Alverd and occasionally Alicia. Alverd, undeterred, took up a stance with his sword leveled at the flabbergasted First Prince.

“I do believe you have besmirched mine lady’s honor, knave. I challenge you to a duel.”

Marcus snarled at Alverd, “You fool! You dare strike me in front of my father! A lowly criminal has no right to challenge a prince of Ishmar!” He whirled around to look at his father, as if expecting the King to take his side.

The King waved his hands in a commanding gesture, putting an end to the frenzied whispering in the room. Again he stood, with difficulty, and addressed his errant son. “He is considered retainer to Princess Alicia and thus he is beholden to her. You opened the door for this challenge when you humiliated her. I will not bar this challenge. If it is Alicia’s will, then it will go forward.

All eyes turned to Alicia. I saw her wipe her tears away, then stare defiantly at Marcus. “My servant acts with my approval. I give him permission to act in my stead.” The whispers started up again, mostly about the audacity of allowing a foreigner to duel on behalf of a princess. Marcus, infuriated by this turn of events, clenched his fist at Alverd.

“Then we settle this with steel. I look forward to gutting you, knave.”

I snorted. This idiot had no idea what he was getting into. Maybe this was going to be our kind of party after all.