Morning dawned. Breakfast was cold rations, even for the prince, and no one walked around without their armor. Despite the invaders wanting to talk, Dowager didn’t expect their negotiations to end with a peaceful outcome. What he did expect was a long day of fighting and he wanted the men to be ready.

Shortly after his lackluster meal, a messenger reported that the enemy commander was outside their walls. Dowager went to meet her with Sir Quintana behind him. He hoped that only bringing one man would make him seem like he was cooperating wholeheartedly with the creature’s farce. Truthfully, the knight was better protection than the whole of the army at their back.

If this was a trap, the prince had no doubt that the knight would be able to foil it on his own. And though he swore he would not intervene unless the situation was dire, Dowager half-hoped that an attempt on his life would incite the ex-royal knight to action. The biggest threat about the army waiting for them was not their numbers but their potential command structure. Getting rid of an officer would make the ensuing battle much easier.

The meeting was meant to take place just outside the walls of the outpost. Dowager had thought that the enemy commander to be either stupid or idealistic to fearlessly walk before another army with no protection and demand parley. Nothing but Harvest’s honor had kept them from shooting the creature down. Something an intelligent mind had to understand.

That meant the creature was idealistic. Perhaps with an inflated ideal about what humanity was. Dowager didn’t blame them. He could imagine what their society was like to produce the half-mad army that threw themselves to their deaths without hesitation and if his ideas were anywhere close to the truth, it was no wonder the creature saw all of humanity as saints.

The enemy commander was not hard to find, standing brazenly in the open without a single shred of cover to protect her. The captain hadn’t exaggerated. Her curves were rather suggestive about her gender. The rest of his description was just as accurate. She looked like a boar had mated with a woman and both had passed on their features in a surprisingly harmonious blend.

The creature was by no means attractive, saints blind anyone with such a thought, but it wasn’t the absolute horror he was imaging. Even the two abnormally large teeth jutting out from the bottom half of her jaw that resembled a pair of tusks rather closely, were more of an oddity than a deformity.

The boarwoman waited with her large arms crossed. Her eyes moved between Dowager and Sir Quintana as they stopped in front of her. Dowager thought she frowned but it was a little hard to read her emotions. The teeth made it hard to judge the movements of her lips and the rest of her face didn’t move the way he was used to.

“Which one of you is the leader?” she asked in a deep voice. Not masculine, just lower than he would expect from a woman. Though, taking in how large she was, he thought it suited her much more than the high voice of a noblewoman.

“I am Dowager kor Harvest, the first prince of Harvest.”

“Er, princes are leaders then?”

Dowager lowered his estimation of the boarwoman’s knowledge. “Yes. Would you care to introduce yourself?”

“Lesley.” The boarwoman made a strange chuffing sound at the face the prince made. “Took a more human name when I left home. Doubt you could say my tribe name properly and mispronouncing it is an insult. Not good for negotiation.”

“I see. Then, Lesley.” Dowager straightened up. “You insisted that we parley. Before we negotiate an outcome, I have several questions for you. Starting with why you’ve brought an army to the shores of my kingdom.”

“Question for question. I answer one of yours, then you answer one of mine. Fair?”

“…I won’t give away sensitive information.”

“If you can’t answer, I’ll ask another question.”

Dowager huffed. Rather than a negotiation between two commanders, he felt like he was talking with a thug over a mug in one of the dirty taverns ruffians of the sort frequented. He felt dirty. The first prince of the kingdom didn’t often think of himself as an elitist. At the very least, he tried not to let his position cloud his perception of people.

Soldiers were mainly commoners. How could he lead and bring out the best in them when he couldn’t recognize their worth? For that, he made a point to treat everyone with respect without compromising the dignity of a ruler. He tried, but he didn’t always succeed.

“Fine. I asked my question first.”

The boarwoman chuffed. He wasn’t sure but Dowger thought it was how the creature laughed. “In my home, the tribes have grown too large. The, hm. Best word in human is scavenger. The little ones belong to the Scavenger Tribe, the most numerous. There are so many, the tribes make the youngest ones fight daily.

“Weeds out the weak. That is not enough anymore. To make sure the rest of their people don’t starve, the Scavenger Tribe leaders sent away the weakest members. The tribe shamans told them to come here, as certain death awaited anywhere else.”

Dowager grit his teeth. Her words sounded like the little bastards had invaded Harvest because it was the easiest target. It was beyond frustrating to think that the world was underestimating his kingdom. “Are you part of this Scavenger Tribe too?”

“My turn to ask question, prince. Or do you not keep your word?”

The prince forced himself to take a deep breath. “You’re right. I forgot myself. Ask your question.”

“Does your kingdom only have humans?”

Dowager opened his mouth but hesitated before giving his answer. The creature had questioned his honor. That made him hesitant to lie. He would likely slay boarwoman and her army by the end of the day. What she knew didn’t matter but he would always remember using dishonorable methods. “I need you to make your question more specific if you want me to answer.”

Lesley huffed. “Citizens of your kingdom. The ones who live on your land and are protected by your laws. Are they all human or do other races live within your borders?”

“This is a human kingdom.” A very strange question for an enemy. It was more in-line with a refugee looking for sanctuary but that thought was ridiculous. He was about to repeat his earlier question but stopped. “Why are you leading this army?”

Lesley smiled. “Good question. Answer is very long. I don’t think you want to hear my life story so I’ll keep it simple. My tribe didn’t like my ideas so they kicked me out. I found the scavengers about to be shipped away and offered to lead them. The ones behind me are those who accepted. My question now. Would your kingdom accept citizens of another race?”

The prince had to call on years of etiquette not to let his thoughts show on his face. “In the five hundred years of our kingdom’s history, it has never happened. However, my father is a man who cares for our traditions. To go against centuries of practice, any…race wanting to join our kingdom would have to bring significant benefits. They would also have to prove their loyalty. Since the Great War, it has been hard to trust those not of our kind. That is the bare minimum required for him to entertain the idea.”

Dowager didn’t mention that though his father might entertain such a possibility, he’d never accept it. For many reasons. Chief of which being that he would face too much criticism from the nobles. They had always made his life difficult. Accepting refugees from another kingdom would make them revolt.

Dowager didn’t dislike his father’s more passive nature to ruling. There was nothing wrong with ruling through reason. The kingdom’s progress had stalled as the different powers battled against each other, rather than working together, but the king kept the kingdom together. That was more than some leaders could manage. History was full of noble houses that had fallen because their patriarchs had reached for more than they could handle. The prince would rather his father have little ambition than have his ambition endanger Harvest.

“Then, my next question. Will the tribes retaliate for the lives loss on our shores?”

“No. To them, the ones here are trash. Whether they live or die means nothing.”

“Harsh.”

Lesley shrugged, a surprisingly human gesture. “Then, my question. Do you find me attractive?”