Chapter 8

  Lucas Millard

  The journey to Denholm had been a rather pleasant one. With the festivities having ended, however, they were now on their way back home.

  Lucas and his wife, Joanna, had gone to commemorate her father’s fiftieth birthday in Denholm. Because she wanted to surprise her father, she had arranged it so that they would depart and then arrive early in Denholm without her parents knowing about it. Thus, the trip had been conducted in secret.

  He still fondly remembered how delighted her father and mother were to see them. Brought to the verge of tears, Joanna’s mother had been quick to embrace her and Lucas. As hospitable as ever, she even made the effort to cook them a hearty meal to welcome them.

  A few days later, they had celebrated Joanna's father's birthday with the rest of her family in Denholm, and on par with tradition, proceeded to have a cake fight during the celebrations. Later in the night, they gathered around the warmth of the hearth to converse and catch up with each other’s lives.

  In the morning afterward, they said their farewells to Joanna’s family as they prepared to leave. As a gift for her younger brother Horton, who was sixteen, Lucas had purchased a fine sword and given it to him. The boy aspired to be a warrior, so Lucas had gifted him the weapon in support of his dreams. Additionally, he had also agreed to personally pay for all of Horton’s lessons with Master Fragan, among the most renowned swordmasters living in Denholm.

  Lucas had hoped to train the boy himself, but because they lived so far away from each other, it had been an unfeasible option. At the very least, though, Horton’s training would be in good hands, and whenever Lucas visited, he could see how much progress the boy was making.

  “I still can’t believe you gave him a sword,” his wife said, shaking her head. “Of all the things that you could have gifted him.”

  A sly smile crossed his face as he turned to Joanna, who sat beside him on the front of their wagon. “Do you take issue with that?”

  “Well, not exactly, and neither did my father,” she answered. “He loved the idea of his son becoming a great swordsman. But my mother was much less… enthusiastic.”

  Lucas laughed. “I don’t blame her. My mother was the same way, you know. When she heard that her son was going to become a soldier and join the army, she tried everything she could to dissuade me. Even talked to the local magistrate about it, too.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. But, by then, it was too late. I was of age, and I had already given my mark on the document that bound me to service. There was nothing she could do. I said my goodbyes, and that’s the last I saw of them for many years.”

  “She must have been so worried for you…” Joanna lowered her head.

  “…Aye, she was.”

  “Remind me again, how long did you serve for?”

  He had to take a moment to recollect his memory. “Eight years. I was mostly stationed in the north, where I had to fight against Timbarmen raiding parties on occasion. It’s a miracle I survived.”

  “I thank Erodus for that, every day. If you hadn’t met me, would you have stayed in the army?”

  Lucas smiled at her. “I likely would have. Till the day I died.”

  His wife crossed her arms, holding her head up high. “And what a shame that would have been.”

  “Aye, it would have been, for you, perhaps. But it was my dream ever since childhood to become a general and lead armies to win glorious battles, you know.”

  Joanna smirked. “Well,” she said. “I must have been so beautiful that your dreams crumbled the instant you laid your eyes upon me.”

  “Aye,” he said. “You were. I would have given the whole world in that very moment to be with you. And I did.”

  “And you did.” She kissed him on the cheek. “You always had a way with words.”

  “Always have.” Lucas kissed her back.

  They both laughed. As their gazes turned forward, however, their joy faded. Lucas narrowed his eyes to get a better look. “What’s that over there?”

  Not far away from where they were, a burnt wagon had been flipped over on the side of the road, thick fumes of smoke rising from it. A feeling of dread churned in Lucas’ stomach. What happened here?

  Reaching back into their cart, he grabbed his longsword and gave Joanna his shorter one. “Just in case anything happens,” he tried to reassure her.

  As they passed the wreckage, he spied a few mangled, charred corpses. Whatever was left inside of the wagon had likely been looted or reduced to ashes.

  Not willing to wait and find out who was behind this, he gave the reins a gentle, but firm flick. “Come on, girl, let’s go,” he said with haste. ”Faster.”

  Their horse, Bree, quickened her pace. The wreckage was soon left behind to fade into the distance. Because of what they had seen, however, their leisurely trip had become much more worrisome. Their once-lively chattering was reduced to a cautious silence.

  “We’re going to have to avoid our usual camping spot,” Lucas said.

  Joanna didn’t seem to mind. “Should we divert to Mosenhall when the road splits up ahead? It’s closer than Hildan, and we can rest there before going home.”

  Before he could answer, however, his eyes locked onto a column of mounted riders who were rapidly approaching them in the distance. There looked to be five or six of them. “Get the crossbow,” he ordered.

  Picking it up from behind them, she held it in her laps. Fortunately, the weapon had already been loaded. She looked at him worriedly. “Are you sure they’re hostile?”

  “No,” he replied. “But we’re not taking any chances. If we get stopped, don’t shoot unless they threaten to kill us.”

  Steadying her trembling hands, she nodded.

  As the unknown riders approached, Lucas saw that they were wearing green cloaks. Could they be actual Greencloaks? he thought. But he had to be cautious.

  Waving and shouting at him, they demanded for the wagon to halt. The riders were already splitting off to surround them, and they were far too slow to run, so he complied. Gently pulling the reins back, he made Bree stop.

  As the other five men dismounted, their leader approached from the front on horseback, pulling off his hood. He had a nasty face, worn down with scars and blemished skin. Beneath his long, crooked nose, there was a thin mustache.

  “Greetings,” he said, his voice deep and coarse.

  “Good day.” Lucas eyed his ragged clothing and stained cloak. “Is there a reason you’ve stopped us?”

  “Aye. We heard there’s been some bandits lurking around in this area, so we’re just making sure everyone’s getting along safely, and that no one’s hiding anything they shouldn’t.”

  “Are you Greencloaks?”

  The man grinned, flashing his rotten, crooked teeth. Lucas couldn’t fathom what his breath smelled like.

  “Indeed.”

  He glanced around at the others, who were just as filthy as the one in front. Greencloaks? They barely looked the part, at least from his experience.

  During his time in the army, he had served alongside plenty of Greencloaks, and he remembered them as decent, honorable, and respectable soldiers. The ragged men who surrounded him and his wife now were most certainly not members of the Sworn Brotherhood. He had to tread carefully.

  “So, where are you off to?” their leader asked.

  “I’m afraid that’s no business of yours, ser.”

  He scoffed, his grin fading. “It is my business. Law says so.”

  “What law?” questioned Lucas.

  “…Get out of that wagon.”

  “We’re on important business, ser. We need to get home as soon as possible.”

  “Get out of that wagon, now.” He grabbed the hilt of his sword. “Or I’ll drag you and that pretty woman of yours out screaming.”

  Lucas stared at him in silent contempt. Glancing around, he noted that the others had also braced themselves to draw steel. Four swords, two spears.

  He could feel his heartbeat increasing, but he had to keep himself strong for the sake of his wife.

  After taking a deep breath, he gave his answer. “No.”

  Before the leader could get his sword out, Joanna pulled her finger against the crossbow’s trigger. The bolt slammed into his shoulder, knocking him off from his horse as he grunted in pain.

  Unsheathing his blade, Lucas leapt out from his seat and chopped the nearest assailant’s face in half. Four more to deal with, he reminded himself.

  Two of them came after him next, while another went for his wife. Gritting his teeth together, Lucas tried to move as fast as he could to prevent them from cornering him. He had to deal with them quickly.

  Deflecting a blow from one, he whipped around and dodged the other. Before he could counterstrike, however, he felt a sudden burst of pain shoot up from the back of his leg. Something had stabbed him from behind.

  Unable to stand for much longer, he felt himself being shoved to the ground afterward, reduced to his knees. As he fell down, he caught a glimpse of what had struck him: a spear. The last one of them had taken him from the rear.

  Leaving the spear in his leg and kicking away his sword, the bandit that had flanked him moved aside and slammed his foot into Lucas’ face. The pain jolted as he rolled over, his leg twisting, and he screamed in agony.

  A smirk on his lips, the same bandit knelt beside him and firmly grabbed his cheeks.

  “Look,” he said. “We’ve got her, too.”

  To Lucas’ horror, one of the other bandits, whose face had been scratched red, dragged a restrained Joanna out from the back of their wagon. “N-no… please…” he muttered.

  Reaching over to the spear in his leg, the bandit grabbed its shaft and twisted as he pushed it further into his leg.

  Lucas could only scream at the top of his lungs as the pain surged to unbearable heights. Blood gushed out and seeped into a puddle on the road.

  Their leader re-emerged, alive, the crossbow bolt still stuck in his shoulder. He had that ugly grin on his face again.

  “I did warn you,” he said, brandishing a dagger.

  Powerless, Lucas could only beg. “P-please!” he coughed. “Don’t kill her! You… can take whatever we have… Just… don’t…”

  “Oh, we’re not going to kill her.” Walking over to Joanna, he forcefully grabbed her cheeks. “Not yet, anyway.”

  The other bandits began laughing in a hideous, high-pitched tone. Like hyenas.

  “What do you say we have some fun with her, boys? Practice our cutting skills?” They all shouted in approval as their leader looked around.

  Then his eyes locked with Lucas’, and he pointed his dagger at him. “And we’re gonna make him watch first.”

  “Yes!” Laughing, the bandits started crowding around her, taking out their daggers.

  Lucas screamed at them, cursing them as he started crawling over. Before he could reach them, however, their leader slammed his boot against his hand, pressing down hard.

  Reeling from the pain, he barely had time to react before the bandit shoved a dirty rag into his mouth, wrapping it tightly. “Apologies. Don’t want to hear your screaming.”

  “Lucas… I’m sorry!” Joanna was crying as their knives drew closer to her face.

  Tears rolling down his face, he clenched his eyes shut. He didn’t want to watch. He didn’t want to hear. He didn’t…

  Something whistled past and struck what sounded like flesh.

  Lucas opened his eyes, struggling to see from how wet they were. But he could see gleaming figures in silver, riders, coming in from the distance. Then the bandit leader fell in front of him, his eyes wide open, and mouth gaping, an arrow stuck in his throat.

  Using his sleeves, he wiped his eyes dry. His vision clearer now, he saw what was coming: a column of armored knights thundering toward them, waving banners of black and gold.

  The bandits scattered from Joanna like rats, fleeing for their mounts. Panicked, they shouted in desperation as they clawed for the reins. Rearing up onto their hind legs, their horses denied them, and bolted off.

  “No!” one shouted as his own ride slipped away. His eyes widened with fear. Turning around, he tried to run, but Lucas grabbed ahold of his leg.

  “Get… your dirty hands… off me!” The bandit slammed his boot into his face. Coughing blood, and despite the pain, Lucas held on firmly.

  Enraged, the bandit drew his sword and swung down at him. Before he could finish him off, however, a spearhead plunged into his back. Screaming in agony, he was torn away by a knight, adorned in a black cape with a golden dragon prancing on it. After releasing their lance, the knight drew their sword and wheeled back around to catch the others.

  The last three bandits quivered in fear as they fled on foot. Unable to outrun their mounted pursuers, however, they were promptly ridden down and slaughtered like swine.

  Circling back round, half of the mounted knights came over to the wagon. A weeping Joanna was freed from the ropes that bound her. Immediately, she ran over to hold Lucas in her arms. Caressing his cheeks, she tearfully begged him to stay with her.

  Looking into her eyes, Lucas smiled. He was glad she was safe, but he was in so much pain that he could barely talk.

  The knight who had saved him earlier with his lance rode over. Lucas tried to see if he could recognize him, but he couldn’t see his face behind that helmet of his. He wanted to know.

  “Who… are you?”

  Anthranor Arathan

  The sight of the injured man and his weeping wife cradling him made Anthranor feel sick to his core. He wanted to help them so badly.

  Dismounting from his horse, he climbed down. “Ivan, get those bandages and medicines here, now.”

  “Yes, my prince.”

  Anthranor shed his helmet, wiping the sweat from his forehead. A solemn look on his face, he knelt down to check on how the man and woman were doing.

  They were both in tears, quivering, their bodies battered.

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  “It’s alright,” he tried to reassure them. “We’re here to help. You’re safe now.”

  The woman grabbed him by the arm, holding it tightly.

  “P-please…” she muttered. “Save my husband.”

  “We’re going to help him, don’t worry, my lady.” Anthranor looked to Ser Tony.

  Nodding, the knight gently took her by the arm and began treating the various bruises and scratches on her body. “Please…” she whispered. “…Help him.”

  Ivan returned at last, and knelt beside the prince. Silent and concentrated, he quickly went to work in applying his craft to help the man’s leg.

  “Take him to the wagon,” Anthranor instructed. As two of his guards carried the man away, he went over to his wife, kneeling before her.

  “May I ask what your name is, my lady?”

  “J-joanna,” she replied, her voice unsteady. “…Is he alright? Is he okay?”

  “Yes, he is. Our best healer is helping him.”

  Joanna pulled herself away from Ser Tony and embraced Anthranor tightly, sobbing. “Thank you… Thank you…”

  He hugged her back, gently patting her. “It’s alright… You’re safe now.”

  When she let go of him, he got back up and left Ser Tony to resume the process of treating her injuries. Walking over to the wagon, he went to check on how her husband was doing.

  Ivan had just finished his work, and was in the midst of giving him something to dull the pain.

  “He’ll live, but he won’t be able to walk without assistance for some time.”

  Anthranor nodded. Unfortunate, but at least he was alive. “Thank you, Ivan. You may go.”

  “My prince.” Bowing, the soldier hopped off, leaving just the two of them alone.

  The man was resting on a makeshift bed, built from whatever blankets and pillows Ivan had managed to put together. His breath was coarse, and his face was getting as white as snow. Despite his agony, he was still keeping himself awake, his eyes locked onto Anthranor.

  “…My wife,” he muttered.

  “She’s alive and well.”

  Hearing the good news, the man smiled at him. “…Thank you… May I ask your name…?”

  “Anthranor.”

  His eyes widened for a moment. “…Prince Anthranor?”

  He nodded. “What’s yours?”

  “Lucas,” he answered. Grunting, the man tried to get up. “…My prince.”

  “No—” Anthranor scrambled his way into the wagon to stop him. “You should rest, ser.”

  Exhausted, he allowed the prince to ease him back down. Taking another labored breath, he gently grabbed his hand. “…I owe you my life.”

  Squeezing it reassuringly, Anthranor shook his head. “You owe me nothing, ser.”

  At peace, the man let go, his strength fading. Nothing more was said as he closed his eyes. For a moment, Anthranor worried that he had passed on, but was proven wrong after feeling his pulse. Sighing in relief, he let himself smile before getting out.

  Ser Dorristan rode up to him on his black warhorse. “My prince. How are they?”

  “Injured, but they’re alive. Is our perimeter secured?”

  The knight nodded. “Yes, my prince.”

  “That’s good to hear. Keep an eye on our surroundings, we’ll get back on the road soon. Excellent work today, Ser Dorristan.”

  Bowing, the knight wheeled his horse around and went away.

  As he went behind the wagon, Anthranor saw Ser Tony helping the woman onto her feet. “Can you walk?” he asked.

  She nodded and took cautious, but sturdy steps. Upon seeing the prince, she ran over and embraced him once more. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she said, crying.

  Quicker than last time, she let go, wiping away her tears. “We owe you our lives for saving us. We will not forget this.”

  “My lady, you owe us nothing.” Anthranor smiled.

  Sniffling, she dipped her head. “May I ask what your name is?”

  “Anthranor.”

  Same as her husband, she was surprised by his answer. At once, she bowed before him. “The prince…? What are you doing in Galeria?”

  Smiling, he asked her to rise. “Please, my lady, you don’t need to bow. We’re traveling to Hildan. My father has sent me to help oversee preparations for the Trident.”

  “To Hildan? We were going there, too, before…” she lowered her gaze. “…Before we were attacked.”

  He gave her a solemn look. “We can escort you there, the rest of the way.”

  Joanna turned her gaze upward. “You will?”

  Anthranor nodded. “Yes. We’ll keep you safe.”

  The woman cried again, hugging him. “Thank you…”

  “Forgive me, my prince.” She chuckled amidst her tears. “I embarrass myself.”

  “No, no, it’s alright,” he said, smiling.

  Pulling away, she wiped her face clean. “I beg your leave, my prince. I must see my husband now.”

  “My lady.” He bowed.

  Bowing as well, she took her leave from him.

  Ser Tony approached him next, clutching the hilt of his sword. “My prince, we’ve cleared the bodies off of the road.”

  “Get the men ready to move at once. Our arrival in Hildan may be delayed.”

  “Why’s that?”

  Anthranor gestured to the wagon. “We’re going to escort them the rest of the way.”

  “Oh, I see.” Ser Tony scratched his chin. “Where are they headed?”

  “Same as we are.”

  The knight smiled. “Mighty convenient for us, then. I’ll get the men ready.”

  Taking his leave, Ser Tony bowed and went off to fetch the others. “Alright lads, mount up!”

  Anthranor glanced at the wagon and the pile of bandit corpses, wondering what could have happened if they had not arrived in time to help. Would those corpses have been Lucas and Joanna? Páreda Erodus, he thought. Thanks be to God.

  Arthur Gendrel

  “So, you do not believe they were assassins?” Lord Benley Cosway asked, looking to Jason Roost.

  They were sat around a big round table, in the midst of eating breakfast. The day had come, and soon they would depart for home within the hour. He was glad to be going back, but last night’s battle had scarred him.

  My first kill, he thought. The feeling sank deep into his stomach, hanging there like a heavy weight. An image of the Reeve knight snapping that robber’s neck flashed in his mind. He had no appetite. Taking a cup of wine, he resorted to sipping on that instead.

  Jason nodded at Lord Cosway. “If they were, they were poor ones. Undisciplined, lackluster combat abilities, and terrible execution. I doubt there was a mastermind behind this. They were what they were: robbers who chose their victims poorly, nothing more.”

  Lord Benley had a petrified look about him. Biting his lips and fiddling with his fingers, the poor man was quivering. Perhaps he feared retribution for having failed to protect his liege lord’s son and heir. On top of that, Ser Jonas had been injured, and was to remain under the care of Castle Cosway’s physicians until his condition improved. House Love was certainly not going to be pleased upon hearing the news. If Ser Jonas did not recover in time, their chances of winning the Trident would be reduced.

  But Arthur held nothing against Lord Cosway. He could not have known, and his son had also risked his own life to protect him during the fight.

  “My lord, you need not worry,” he tried to reassure him. “I will speak to my father about this incident. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

  He offered a meek smile in return, but the fear still remained. “Thank you… my lord Arthur…I will be sure to double the patrols at once!”

  Ser Martin looked at Jason Roost. “My lord, I must thank you for assisting us last night. Your timely intervention may have saved the life of Ser Jonas.”

  He waved his hands. “There is no need for thanks, Ser Martin. We happened to be walking, and overheard someone’s plight. We simply did what any good man would have done to help their neighbor.”

  “For that, you have my eternal gratitude,” Arthur said. “Both you, and your knight.”

  Jason Roost nodded at him, his lips spreading into a warm smile. “You are most welcome, my lord.”

  After finishing the rest of their food, they took their leave from the dining room. While the others went off to the courtyard, Arthur made his way to where Ser Jonas was resting.

  He let him know of his presence by knocking against the door. “Ser Jonas? It’s Arthur.”

  “Arthur? Come in, come in!”

  Opening the door, he stepped inside. Ser Jonas was delighted to see him. Rendered topless, his chest was wrapped in fresh bandages, a blanket covering the rest. “Are you leaving?”

  “We are.” Turning around, he shut the door before taking a seat next to the knight’s bed.

  He looked disappointed. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with, Arthur?”

  “You need to rest, and it’s a long way back to Hildan. We can’t risk anything happening.”

  Sighing, the knight stared into the ceiling. “…Very well, then.”

  Arthur felt pity for him. Had his condition not been so critical, they could have taken him along. But, alas, he needed to rest here, where there were skilled physicians and plenty of supplies available.

  “…Do you think I’ll get to fight in the Trident? Will I get back in time?”

  “Well, we’ve still got a while to go, before it’s time. So, yes.”

  Ser Jonas’ lips tightened in frustration. “I’m not so sure. They’re counting on me, my family. I’ve got to win it for them. Make them proud, you know?”

  “You will. I’m sure of it.”

  The knight’s face lightened as he smiled at Arthur. “Let’s hope so.”

  “I brought you one of my books.” He took it out from his bag. “It’s called A Tale of Two Queens.”

  Curious, Ser Jonas grabbed it, examining the cover. “I’ve always wanted to give it a read, but I never got the chance to.”

  He smirked. “Well, now is the opportune time. Who knows how long you’ll be here. You might even finish it.”

  Jonas laughed. “Perhaps, I might. Thank you, Arthur.”

  “Of course.”

  “Now, go. I don’t want to keep you here.” He chuckled. “Wouldn’t want to bore you to death.”

  A smile on his face, Arthur shook his hand firmly. “See you soon, Ser Jonas.”

  “Farewell, Arthur.”

  Right when he was about to go for the door, Ser Jonas asked him to wait. “Could you do something for me before you go?”

  “What is it?” Arthur turned around.

  The knight pointed to the window curtains, which were closed. He had a sly grin on his face. “Would you mind opening those for me?”

  He couldn’t help but smile, laughing to himself. “Of course.”

  Olivia Gendrel

  “Where’s father?” Olivia sat herself down at the table.

  Their mother, Syrena, looked at her. “He went out with your uncle and his squire into the city.”

  “Is it almost time for the Trident?” Anna was already gorging herself on a cookie. “I hear the prince is coming soon.”

  Olivia’s head shot up from her plate. “What? Which one?” Depending on who it was, she would either be delighted or disappointed.

  “Anthranor—"

  “Anna!” her mother snapped. “Wait until we’ve prayed, and you need to eat your beef, bread, and vegetables first. After that, you can dine on whatever you like.”

  Grumbling, she set the cookie aside. “Fine…”

  “And yes, the Trident will be happening within a few weeks. To help oversee preparations, the Emperor has sent Prince Anthranor. He’ll be staying with us.”

  “How long will he be staying?”

  “Until the Trident ends.”

  Olivia smiled. She wanted know what he was like. Already, she had heard of how fearsome his older brother was. A dragon rider, tall, and known for his fiery nature, Prince Daelanor sounded like a menace of a man. Anthranor, on the other hand, she imagined as someone who was… well, less of a menace. Gentler, more kind, and…

  She had to stop herself from fantasizing. They would have to actually meet before she could discern his true character.

  “Lover Boy, the Second…?” Anna nudged herself closer. She must have noticed something.

  Shooting her a glare, Olivia flicked her in the ear.

  “Ow!”

  “Enough, you two,” her mother said.

  “Serves you right.” Olivia and Anna laughed it off.

  Although she wanted to ask her mother about something else, Olivia decided to wait until after they had prayed. When that was done with, she popped the question as she was grabbing a loaf of bread.

  “Mother, when will Arthur and Uncle Martin be coming back?”

  Syrena took a sip from her cup of wine. “A few days from now, if my memory serves me right. That’s when they should be back.”

  Olivia smiled. Her brother had been gone for what felt like forever. She missed him.

  A servant entered the room, bowing. “My ladies,” he announced.

  “Yes?” The Archduchess turned to face him, standing. “What is it?”

  “Ser Xavier Larston has returned. He bears a gift for the Lady Olivia, from Lord Jason Roost.”

  What? Olivia’s face soured. Another one?

  “Bring him in,” her mother said.

  When the servant left, Ser Xavier entered afterward, bowing before them. “My ladies.”

  “Ser Xavier,” Syrena greeted. “I hope your trip was well.”

  “It was, my lady.”

  “Bring it here.” Olivia’s mother held her hand out.

  Approaching her, the knight took out the necklace, a beautiful silvery white, and placed it in her palm. She dangled it from her fingers to take a closer look. “Beautiful, isn’t it? Thank you, Ser Xavier.”

  “Of course, my lady.”

  Syrena gave the necklace to Olivia, who merely set it aside. She had no interest in Jason Roost’s machinations.

  “Anything else, Ser Xavier?”

  “Yes, my lady,” the knight answered. “I bring a letter.”

  Unveiling a rolled-up piece of parchment, he handed it over to Syrena. “It arrived this morning by courier bird. It’s from Ser Martin.”

  “Oh, thank you, Ser Xavier. You may go.”

  “My lady.” The knight bowed once more, before taking his leave.

  Anna leapt from her chair in excitement. “What does it say?”

  “Patience, dear.” Syrena shot her a playful glare as she sat back down. Breaking the seal, she unrolled the parchment and began reading aloud.

  “I write to inform you that we are soon to return. By the time you are reading this, we should be well within a day’s ride of Hildan. The night before we left, we were… ambushed by robbers in the streets."

  Olivia gasped, a feeling of dread surging within her. “Are they alright?”

  Her mother kept on reading.

  “Fortunately, however, we had our wits about us, and with the timely arrival of Lord Jason Roost and his companion knight, we were able to dispose of our assailers.”

  The three of them collectively sighed in relief. “Thank goodness,” Anna said.

  “Rest assured, we are all alive and well, although Ser Jonas Love was so grievously injured that he had to stay behind. But, rest assured, he will return when he has recovered…” Then their mother went silent, her eyes still reading.

  Anna furrowed her brows. “What? What’s happened?”

  “…Jason Roost is with them. He’s on his way.”

  Olivia almost spat out her wine. “What? Is he really?”

  In stark contrast to her displeasure, Anna was ecstatic. She looked like she was about to fly herself to the moon. “Is he actually with Arthur and Uncle Martin?”

  Their mother sighed, setting the parchment down. “Yes, he is. We’ll have to get a room prepared for him.”

  “Why is he coming here?” Olivia felt outraged. First, the dress, then that necklace, and now this?

  “Never mind that!” her sister shouted. “This is the opportunity of a lifetime! I can help with his room, and I can even show him around, too!”

  “I don’t want him to come here.”

  Anna looked at her, affronted. “What would you like us to do, Olivia, turn him away?”

  “Yes.”

  Her sister stood up. “Don’t you realize the gravity of this situation? The son and heir of an Archduke is visiting. We can’t just turn him away at your pleasure.”

  “Well, why didn’t they say no?” she shouted, standing as well. “Why did Arthur and Uncle Martin let him come here?”

  “Olivia Gendrel.” Her mother rose from her seat, a cold look in her eyes. “Mind your tone.”

  Subdued, Olivia sat herself back down, seething in silence.

  “If your brother and uncle told him yes, then that means your father had already given his approval beforehand.”

  “And you,” she spat out.

  “…Yes. And me.”

  “So, you admit it!” Olivia glared at her mother with contempt. She felt betrayed. “Why wasn’t I consulted in this matter?”

  Syrena’s face relaxed, a solemn look replacing her earlier fury. “…It wasn’t your decision to make, Olivia.”

  “My opinion doesn’t matter, then? What, are you going to sell me off to some random noble, someone I hardly even know, much less care about, like every other highborn daughter?”

  “No, Olivia, we aren’t going to arrange your marriage for you.”

  She didn’t believe her mother’s words. “Then why didn’t you consult me on this matter?”

  “Lord Jason’s visit has nothing to do with your future marriage.”

  “Oh, but it does! I know exactly why he’s coming here. I’m not stupid, mother.”

  “What do you think he’s coming here for, Olivia?” Anna questioned. “To bend his knee before you, pour his heart out, and ask you to marry him? Is that what you think?”

  That’s exactly what she knew was going to happen. “Yes,” she replied. “He’ll do just that. What, do you think I’m blind? The dress and that necklace of his are just bribes to curry my favor. I’m not falling for it. I know what game he’s trying to play.”

  “You should at least meet him, and get to know him,” her mother said. “If he’s not up to your standards after that, then, well, you don’t have to marry him when you’re older.”

  Olivia could at least work with that. She sighed. “…Fine.”

  “I can marry him!” Anna chimed in. They got a nice laugh out of it.

  Syrena took a sip from her cup of wine. “You are aware of our history with House Roost, yes?”

  Both sisters nodded their heads. “Yes, mother.”

  “For centuries, even before the Marchidium, we feuded with them. If we were able to join our two houses together in matrimony, it would make history. An alliance between two of the most powerful houses in the realm, think about it.”

  Olivia could care less about the politics behind it.

  “Marriage should not be wielded as some sort of political tool,” she said. “I refuse to allow such a sacred sacrament to be reduced to nothing more than a lucrative contract.”

  “I understand, Olivia,” her mother said with a sigh. “And, quite frankly, I agree. Which is why we’ll never force you to marry anyone. But, at least give it a try first, okay?”

  “…Okay.”

  Anna crept beside her again, a massive grin on her face. “If you don’t like him, there’s always the prince.” Winking, she nudged Olivia’s elbow.

  “Oh, stop it...”

  They all erupted in laughter.

  “Alright, you two, eat up,” their mother ordered. “We’ve got work to do.”