《A Royal Warrior》


 Skelan History: Crown of the Night

    Saple Castle sits at the top of its hill, with a gradual mile-long road leading down from the front gates and a steeper quarter-mile road leading from the back gates. Shining black steel surrounds the Castle grounds, with guards armed with compact yet powerful crossbows standing dressed in black armor with gleaming swords at their hips. In the past, many foreign armies have launched invasions on the country of Skela. Few have come within two miles of the base of the hill. Of those few, only once has any army ever reached the gates.


    When these invaders found themselves at the gates, they were ragged, bloodied, and sparse. They were not fought, nor were they negotiated with. They were invited inside, met by the king and queen in full suits of armor, and they were fed. After the foreigners were full and tired, the king and queen commended them for their feat. Their army had been many, and now they were half a dozen. The fair-haired and pale-skinned queen had calmly pointed out this fact, and contemplated the precarious situation this left them in after the attack. Would they return and fear a counterattack, would they attempt to claim the throne for their own? As the guests began to shift nervously, the queen brandished her personal dagger, a small thing with a gilded hilt fitted perfectly for her slender hands. Then, the king leaned forward, narrowing his sky-blue eyes, and spoke for the first time that night.


    "How many remain at your village?" He asked this simply to know if they would be honest, for the monarchs knew only ten remained, four elderly wisewomen, three injured men, a pregnant mother, and two children too young to fight.


    The first to answer was a young man, clearly confident in himself. "There are thirty waiting for us to return," he said, lifting his chin in an effort to sound convincing.


    Several silent moments went by, before there was a quick flash of movement and the man fell backwards out of his chair. The queen''s dagger was sunk into his forehead all the way to the hilt, and the queen spread her now-empty hands as though there was nothing more to it. The woman beside the body leapt to her feet, screaming. An arrow pierced her throat from behind, and she slumped to the floor, dying within a minute over the corpse of her love.


    The king''s hard gaze swept over the four remaining fighters. "How many are there?"


    Now, it was the man who was obviously their chief who spoke. "Ten. There are ten." When the woman beside him opened her mouth to speak, he set a hand lightly on her shoulder and shook his head.


    The queen smiled and nodded. "We know. Five women, three men, two children. And now, the problem of what to do with you." She clucked lightly, the sound of a disapproving mother. "Do we release you to them, trusting you will not waste an entire army to be stopped here once again? Do we have you bring them here and take control of your people? Do we end you here and leave them be?" She turned her eyes to her husband, awaiting his answer.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    He shook his head slowly, eyeing each of the people before him. The two plain warriors began to cough and sputter, looking at each other in confusion. "Yes, you both have been poisoned. The wine you received was overly sweet to hide the Talberry. Moving along. You, chief, will be brought into Skela, as will this woman who is carrying what I assume is your child." At this, the pair exchanged an anxious look. "You will be charged with crimes against Skela''s people, and as punishment will be required to remedy the destruction your army has caused." By now the two men had died, slumped onto the table. "The remaining people will be brought in Skela as well. They will not be charged in my court, but will be expected to act as upstanding citizens. Any land you held previously from henceforth belongs to the Crown. You will both stay in the Castle, as it is already too dark to travel. Tomorrow at dawn, you will be escorted to you village, then back with the rest of your people in tow. Now, a servant will show you to your room." The king raised a single hand and a dark-skinned boy rushed forward to escort the guests to a room.


    In all his cleverness, the king had overlooked the servant and his loyalties. After the monarchs had retired to their suite, the boy led the chief and his wife to a room, shutting the door behind them. He quickly ushered them to the furthest wall, rushing the man to push aside the large dresser to reveal a small hole in the wall. The boy led them through the hole and into a narrow but tall walkway. They walked for several minutes before the boy stopped at a square that let colored light through. They stopped to listen for another minute, then the boy gestured for the man and woman to squeeze past him and past the square, which they discovered to be a massive painting of the castle. On the other side of the square hole, they found the king and queen sleeping in their grand bed. The man sidled up to the king and the woman came behind the queen, who slept facing her husband. The pair pulled small, jagged daggers from their boots, brought them in front of the king and queen''s throats, and slit them quickly and cleanly, making deep and precise cuts. Blood soaked the sheets quickly and within a minute the king and queen had stopped writhing and sputtering.


    The boy had emerged from the hidden passage and was kneeling before the man and woman. "All hail the Vor''das Tribe." At the sound of his voice, several armed guards stormed into the room. They rushed towards the scene at the bed with swords drawn, but halted when they saw the already dead bodies. After a moment of silence and shifting, they all sunk to their knees, as their honor and laws dictated when no heirs are left, the victor is the leader. Such was the case, and the Crown was placed on the man''s head. The Vor''das had done the unthinkable, dethroned the Saples after generations, and effectively pushed us that much closer to wa-

 Chapter One

    Krin''s voice was nasally as ever, as if its deepening with manhood had skipped him entirely, when he whined, "But that just doesn''t make sense, Volik!"


    Alena sighed and rested her chin on one hand, twirling her pencil in the other. She sat at her desk, while Krin sat at his, arms crossed over his torso and brows furrowed. They had both heard this story plenty of times during their history lessons, but their tutor loved telling it anyway. And Krin loved objecting.


    "But why would the old king and queen welcome the rest of the tribe into the city? They could''ve just ended them, right then and there!" He brought his fist down on the oak table for emphasis.


    Alena rolled her eyes and said simply, "Because, Krin, that wasn''t in their nature! The Saples all liked to make examples of the people they conquered. They took them into their city and made them slaves without the title. Then, when King Ragos came along, he definitely made an example of them!"


    "It''s pointless though! Right Volik? It''s more efficient to be swift and decisive when you act. Making displays like that are too long and drawn out." Krin''s eyes narrowed and flitted between his sister and Volik, determined to be right.


    Their tutor leaned back against the wall and shrugged his shoulders in neutrality. "Who can say which is better? Acting with hard and immediate actions can be useful if you need to make your intentions known right away and let an opinion form as such, but making examples of people the way the Saples would is highly effective for carefully cultivating your image. You can spin a story so they brutally invaded and you had no choice to eliminate guilt, or paint yourself as the generous one for allowing them to live under your protection and benevolence." Volik spread his hands wide and mimicked an even scale. "It''s all about scenarios and preference." As he finished speaking, a servant bustled in with a small card on a silver platter. The tutor lifted it and read it quickly. His words came out with a sigh, as though he regretted something out of his control. "Ah, it seems you are both excused. Your father has asked you both return to your rooms to get ready for your portrait paintings."


    Alena and Krin rose and curtsied and bowed respectively, before hurrying out of the room. As soon as they were a safe distance from the open door, Alena sighed. "I still don''t see why Volik insists on telling us the story of the Crown of the Night so often. Maybe when we were children, but by now, we get it!" She huffed in exasperation, pressing her lips together.


    Krin at his sister as though she lacked a brain and snapped back at her quickly, "he tells us because it''s an important story! The story of how our great-grandparents came to rule! And it is undeniably crucial in caseoneof us comes to make a grave mistake." He cut his eyes to her and cocked one eyebrow, making his meaning exceedingly clear.


    Alena gritted her teeth and sped up, separating herself from her brother. Her floor-length gown swept the floor, and she couldn''t help but hope the maids had gone over this area already; this was one of her favorite day dresses, and she didn''t want it soiled. Krin stayed behind her as she led the way up the stairs, gathering her skirt so she wouldn''t trip. When she reached the top, she turned right down the hall and collided with their father.


    Alena let out a squeak of surprise as Krin came up short behind her, their father''s strong hands catching her arms. "Sorry, father, I didn''t see you around the corner. Krin and I were just going to get ready for the portraits."


    King Dyre smiled down at his children and placed a palm against Alena''s cheek. "Do not worry. Your mother is going to meet me in the parlor for our paired portrait. We''ll do our family portraits after, then we will all do our individual portraits." He placed a hand gently on Alena''s head and patted Krin briefly on the shoulder, then turned and descended the stairs, maids bustling out of the path his large frame cut.


    Alena didn''t hesitate to start walking after their father had left. Before her brother could antagonize her further, she slipped quickly into her room and shut the door with a large sigh of relief. Alena kicked off her heeled shoes and let the skirt of her dress drag along her white carpet. As she walked, she went about unfastening her necklace and the upper buttons on her dress. She would look nothing less than perfect for her portrait.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    As soon as she pulled open the doors of her great closet, Alena''s hands flew straight to a long silk dress the color of red wine. All along the bodice shone little metal embellishments, shaped like miniature diamonds. Pulling a cord to call for her personal maids, she started removing her hair from the bun she had pinned it up in. By the time her three maids knocked and entered, the princess had already let her hair down and picked a pair of black heeled shoes.


    Quickly shimmying out of her first dress, Alena held out her arms to allow her maids to dress her. They helped her step into the dress and pulled the smooth fabric up around her body, exceedingly careful with the smooth cream fabric. Once they had pulled it up over her bare chest, two maids held the strapless gown in place while the third went about pulling the laces taut enough to keep it up.


    It took the better part of two hours for Alena to consider herself ready. Small gatherings littered the dress, like wine poured over rocks, and the dress''s train dragged for about a foot behind her. Her hair had been braided carefully and wrapped around her head, framing exactly where she knew a crown would eventually sit.


    "Oh, I love it!" Alena clasped her maids'' hands in turn, then returned to admiring her reflection in the polished steel sheet. Her face was the spitting image of her mother''s, dark skin and long inky hair witheyes like emeralds. Sensibly, she had her dresses designed to draw attention up; she was not a thin, figure-less thing, but she was built strong. Her arms and legs were hard muscle, her stomach flat and her hips and legs strong and well-built. Her jaw was square and hard, her knuckles scarred from fighting, and her shoulders strong. Vastly different from the princesses of the few empires she had been to, but deeply a Skelan princess.


    Alena walked into the parlor last, her father and mother being painted together. They stood close together, the King with one hand around his wife''s waist and the other holding a greataxe, while the Queen rested one hand on her husband''s shoulder as the other gripped a bow. King Dyre was a large mountain of a man, broad shoulders and a tall frame that set him apart from even the tall warriors of Skela. The Queen, however, was much smaller; wiry and built more like a cat than a wall, Queen Cirala was thin and long-limbed, her dark bow an extension of her. Together, the two were all but unstoppable, and stood side by side in all things. In their individual portraits, they were shown as islands, alone and dominant in their own ways; but when painted like this, they were inseparable.


    Alena dared a glance over the painter''s shoulder. It was almost done and absolutely stunning, the colors and angles captured in minute details, from the shade of the curtains behind them to the waves in the Queen''s dark hair, the gentle texturing in her father''s thick brown beard. When the paintings were done, they would be displayed in the grand ballroom, a reminder to all who enter who is in charge.


    Sitting down patiently, Alena noticed her own personal painter walking in with his shoulders hunched and his chin tucked. Alena waved the young man over to her and gestured for him to sit after he bowed to her. "Greetings, Ari. How are you?"


    Ari fumbled with his supplies, trying to set them down silently but quickly, before taking a seat beside the princess. "Hello, Your Highness. I am well. I see you are still wearing the red gown you showed me. Excellent." He fussed with his shirt as he spoke, pulling at the hem or tugging at the sleeves. When he noticed his easel being set up a little further down the room, he excused himself, bowed, and hustled his supplies to his space.


    Alena watched him go, smiling after him. Ari was not much older than the princess herself, but was a highly gifted painter. At her request and her mother''s insistence, Ari had been allowed to visit the castle grounds whenever was suitable for both Ari and herself. This was particularly necessary, since it seemed every other week she had a new scar he would have to memorize.


    It was not long before her parents'' painting was finished. It would be set to dry in the shade of the room while the family portrait was done. Krin strode over to their parents before Alena could even rise, taking a spot at his father''s side. By comparison, Krin was little more than their father''s pale shadow; both wore black garb, their father''s adorned with military medals. Krin was only half a foot shorter than King Dyre, making him still taller than most men, but much paler and thinner, built more like the Queen with thin arms and a bony face. However, the prince did have his father''s darkest brown eyes and dark chestnut hair he kept cut short and pushed back. His eyebrows and lips were the thinnest of his family, making his face look more severe than any of them.


    Alena came to stand beside her mother, picking up her greatsword from the rack on her way. She lifted its familiar weight a few times before carefully posing it point-down in front of her. She glanced over as her mother adjusted her bow so one tip rested on the floor, with her right hand wrapped around the other end. Past her, the King held his axe by the shaft between the two blades, chin held high; at the very end, Krin held one of his twin daggers in his left hand, one eyebrow raised. Quickly settling into place, the family stood ready for the long painting.

 Chapter Two

    Alena shut the door behind herself and sighed, finally back in her room. The paintings had taken longer than expected, but her portrait was stunning. Ari never portrayed her as thinner or more feminine than she was, but he always managed to paint her at the most absolutely flattering angle, in just the right light. Now, she had to be out of the castle. She hastily removed her dress and shoes, not bothering to call for her maids, and fished her riding gear from her closet. She pulled on her upper small-cloth and a black shirt and pulled on her tight, fitted pants. Once her sword sheathe was latched around her waist and her boots were buckled up, Alena set off down the hall quickly, in a hurry to get to the stables.


    Finally, Alena walked into the stables, going straight to the row furthest in the back. She stopped at the stall in the lefthand corner, whistling at the hulking black and brown pile on the straw floor. At her voice, the lump started moving and sniffing, before part of it erupted into a flurry of barks. The rest, Alena''s stallion, unfolded itself and rose much more slowly, but with the same eagerness. Alena opened the stall door and the dog bounded around her, nudging her hands with its nose. The dog was a long-legged and heavily muscled dog, bred to run into battle, but handpicked by the princess to be her companion and guardian. The dog''s short brown fur showed the movement of each muscle and tendon, while its stumped tail wagged furiously. Alena reached down to pat her, rubbing each ear in turn, before placing her hand on the stallion''s thick neck. Sleek black fur and the strong body of a true warhorse, the stallion had been Alena''s from a very young age, one of a very long breeding line for the Crown.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    Technically speaking, Alena was supposed to saddle and ride a much smaller horse when she ventured into town, not an all-out battle-mount, but she also wasn''t supposed to take off without informing her parents and bringing a guard, and that was just unrealistic. Not even bothering with a saddle or bridle, Alena led the horse and dog out into the open grass, lifting herself onto the animal''s back with ease. Her stallion settled under her weight and the cool steel of her sword on its flank, the dog taking up her place beside it. Alena leaned forward and left, and began leading the animals toward the front gates. The princess did not pause as she approached the guards, who opened the gates without question; she did not answer to them, and demanded no answers in return. As such, they allowed her to do as she pleased during the day, watching her group amble down the path toward the city.

 Chapter Three

    As Alena made her way into the city outskirts, her horse began to toss its head, whinnying at anyone who ventured too close. Leaning close to his ear, Alena whispered gently, "easy Tibere," And nudged the horse to the right. Glancing back to make sure her dog was close behind Alena steered the stallion to the edge of the road toward an inn, slipping off easily at the posts outside. She strode inside the inn, every face and several daggers turning toward her. Alena kept her chin high and shoulders back when she stopped at the bar. "My horse is outside your inn. He is an all-black war-horse, eighteen hands tall, with the Crown emblem etched into each of his shoes. If he is not here when I return, I will hold you," she paused to point at the bartender, who stared at her with wide eyes, "personally accountable." After a moment of consideration, she went on to add, "However, I believe anyone stupid enough to attempt to pull anything with my stallion will find themselves short a few fingers and in grave need of a medic."


    Without waiting for a reply, Alena turned on a heel and strode back out into the open, her hound close beside her. She touched a hand to Tibere''s nose, then the tree in front of him, and began walking away toward the marketplace.


    Finally in the marketplace proper, Alena kept her left hand on her dog''s head and her right hand on her sword hilt, though nobody even dared bump into her. The crowds parted immediately, speaking only in hushed murmurs as civilians quickly bowed and curtsied and soldiers gave respectful and proper salutes. While it was true many of her people respected or feared her, in some cases both, she had spent a large part of her life training alongside the soldiers and many of them would put their lives on the line for her out of loyalty to her more than duty to the crown.


    Before she even realized where she was going, her feet had carried her down the familiar path toward the garrisons, and she could already hear the men and few women inside laughing, yelling, and sparring. The sound of steel on steel hurried her along, until she stood in front of the massive double doors and the two guards outside. Alena smiled at the pair, one a tall older man with a thick black-and-gray mustache and beard and the typical short cut of the military, the other a much younger boy barely out of his twenties with fair blonde hair and a face balder than a newborn baby''s. Looking up at the older soldier, Alena asked politely, "Tarin, how is your family? Is Yuta faring any better?"


    The man''s heavy brows furrowed together as he answered in a troubled voice, "No, Your Highness, I''m afraid not. She still has the cough and nothing in the market has done anything for it. No matter what that medic says she swears it isn''t in her throat, she says her chest hurts, but he just says she doesn''t know because she''s only six years."


    Alena shook her head lightly. "I truly am sorry Tarin. I will poke around the libraries and ask my tutor if he knows of any other medics available or other treatments that might help." Walking through the door as the men opened it for her, Alena heard the young man exhale deeply, a breath he had likely been holding since she had walked up.


    Finally inside the doorway of the training room, Alena''s fingers twitched with anticipation, flitting over the hilt of her sword. Scratching between her dog''s ears, Alena led her into the massive room, glancing over the multiple pairs sparring and individuals practicing with dummies. Alena strode across the room to where two dummies stood, visibly larger and better-maintained than the rest. "Ready, Na''ta?" Alena slowly lifted her greatsword from its sheath at her hip, the dog settling into a low crouch.


    Only ten minutes into warming up, a loud, deep laugh boomed from behind Alena. Alena straightened her back and turned around, still gripping her sword. "Hello, General Revlin," Alena said with a forced smile and narrowed eyes, looking up at the large man.


    "Ah, hello Princess, I see you and your... pet... are here. Again." The giant man raised one bright red eyebrow, looking down at the pair with disdain in his pale gray eyes. His steel helmet dangled from a strap at his hip, his red hair in a short crop. Next to him stood a lanky, long-limbed boy with ink-black hair slicked back against his head and a sleazy grin plastered across his too-pale lips. "I''m surprised you bring it with you, considering how fond your father is of boasting about your supposed combat prowess. Might sully your reputation." When Alena and Na''ta both began to bristle, the man added with a shrug, "granted, it may do more damage to your reputation to lose your fights, hm?"If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    Alena held her chin high and jabbed one finger at the man''s barrel chest. "You are just upset that I have beat every single soldier you have pitted me against. I would battle, and best, any man or woman you send my way, yourself included, with or without Na''ta." She held her sword in her right hand and planted her left fist on her hip. Her lips pulled back slightly in a silent snarl and her thick, dark eyebrows knitted close, more warrior than princess in that instant.


    Smothering down the fear that flashed through his eyes, Revlin scoffed loudly. "Oh, no, little girl. You will not battle me." Glancing quickly at the crowd that had begun to gather around them, he drew himself up taller. "No, today you can battle my prodigy, Athrin." He set one heavy hand on the blonde boys shoulder, dwarfing him even further.


    Athrin opened his mouth for the first time, his voice as slimy as his greased hair. "Good afternoon, m''lady." He gave an overdone bow, gesturing widely to the arena. He rose and, leaning in closer, said with a smirk, "don''t worry, Princess, I won''t hurt you." He turned and proceeded to the arena, picking up a pair of swords.


    Alena gestured for Na''ta to stay, then crossed the floor to the arena. Athrin stood across from her, brandishing his swords. Taking a deep breath, she readied her own greatsword in front of her, glaring into his cool gray eyes. "Call it," she commanded the General, never taking her eyes off of Athrin. After several long heartbeats, the man''s deep voice boomed, "Begin!"


    Athrin feigned left, laughed, and dove right, aiming a blow at Alena''s stomach. She shifted her body and sword slightly, deflecting the swipe while watching the other sword. The two went on for a few minutes, Athrin giving half-hearted attacks and Alena blocking them and watching how he moved.


    "Ancestors damn it, somebody fight!" The general roared at them, stomping his boot on the hard ground.


    Then, Athrin sprang awake, lunging quickly at Alena''s left side. Determined not to be caught off guard, Alena darted to her right, followed immediately by both of Athrin''s blades. He swung high, one sword level with her throat and the other with her eyes. Alena dropped to the ground, kicking out and tripping Athrin. She jumped up as he fell backwards, holding the point of her sword close to his throat.


    She didn''t see the General rush her from behind, but she heard thewhooshof his blade coming toward her, and the thud of his sword meeting something she had not known was there but was confident wasn''t her body. After a few frozen seconds, when she was pretty sure her head wasn''t about to be lopped off, she glanced over her shoulder.


    General Revlin stood behind her, his face as red as his hair, sword in the air. Between them, though, stood a young man Alena had never met before. His shield held the General''s sword in place, lodged into the hard wood. She could make out the shape of Na''ta''s broad head and shoulders behind Revlin and hear her deep growl.


    "Well, General, good to know we had a fair fight," Alena''s voice dripped venom for the man she had never liked. "It seems this would be of great interest to my father, one of his favored generals attempting a dishonest attack on his only daughter during an honest training bout. Not even a blood-duel."


    "Only daughter, but not only heir," The man snarled. "House Revlin does not support you, a little girl with a big stick. Your brother holds our resources, our loyalty, and our signet."


    Alena only blinked in surprise, stepping out of the middle of the frozen fight. For a family to give their signet meant a great deal, and was a deal until the head of the House died. "I see. Well, I suppose it is good, then, that I don''t need your resources, nor your signet. I do not wish for the help of a general who should be hanged for war crimes." She narrowed her eyes at the man, facing him fully now. "A babe is not a weapon, nor an invalid a soldier." She turned her attention to the man who had saved her life. "You. Soldier. What is your name."


    The young man, only a couple years older than the princess, jerked his shield away, dislodging the sword, and turned to face her. He squared his shoulders and brought his fist to his chest, "Mulius Lercari, Captain of the Youth Soldiers."


    Alena nodded lightly, "At ease. Captain, come with me." Without waiting for an answer, she turned on a heel and strode across the room, Na''ta at her side and Mulius following behind her. As she walked out the doors into the open air, she found herself face to face with her mother, a soft smile on the woman''s lips.

 Chapter Four

    "Hello, mother," Alena dipped her head to the Queen, who smiled back at her. Beside her, Mulius sank into a deep bow, which the Queen waved him out of. "Were you looking for me?"


    Queen Cirala eyed Mulius with a smile, and spoke in a smooth-as-honey voice. "Yes, Alena. Your father wants us to go on a diplomatic mission. Choose your guard of three, and meet us in the Throne Room." She dipped her head, patted Na''ta, and strolled off, bow slung across her back and sliding gently against the silks of her dress.


    Alena''s eyebrows came together in confusion. It was strange of her father to send her and her mother, but surely this was a sign of his good favor? It took several minutes for her to realize she was still standing outside the Armory, with Mulius in tow. When she heard him clear his throat and shuffle his boots, her head whipped around to face him. "You. What is this Youth Soldier squadron you lead? I haven''t heard of it, and you do not have the look of a soldier." Rather than feign knowledge, Alena let her thoughts be known; honesty for honesty. And it was true he didn''t look like the other soldiers. He was well-built, muscles clear through his shirt, but his chestnut hair fell in loose curls around his pale face. His jaw was sculpted and strong, his shoulders held back in confidence. Yet he had none of the hardened, distant look experienced soldiers held in their eyes. He didn''t eye everyone as a possible threat, nor did he analyze everyone who passed them. She could see genuine curiosity and compassion in his caramel eyes.


    Confusion also showed clearly in his eyes and across his face as he tilted his head. "The Youth Soldier squadron? It''s a fairly new squadron, I admit, but established firmly enough. I hear it was the Prince''s doing. A force of youth to go where adults would be suspect. You know, fighting rings, outlying cities that fear the army, those things."


    Alena shook her head. Of course Krin had pulled together a squadron in the army, he was trying to encroach on her domain. It was no secret the army were her men and women, and one of his shortcomings. But now that she had a chance to prove her diplomatic abilities, she could not pass it up. "You''re coming with me, Captain Mulius. We have some stops to make."


    Alena stopped outside a wooden door with a slit in it in the worst slum. Mulius shifted beside her, visibly uncomfortable. She rapped quickly on the door and stared the person on the other side of the slit dead in the eye. It creaked open just enough to grant them entrance and slammed shut behind them. Alena gazed around the run-down, grimy fighters'' den, one hand between Na''ta''s ears. The men that were sober enough to recognize her raised a flagon to her, and those too drunk simply shouted. She led Mulius to the bar, dropping a handful of silvers on the stained wood. "Where is He." Not a question, but a demand. The bartender nods gruffly to an opening in the wall next to him. Shouts, curses and thumps come from the other side, as well as the sharp smell of blood.


    Alena did not thank him; she didn''t need to. She has known him for years, earned him more money in cuts from her own fights than he could count. She strolled through the doorway, blending into the crowd, disappearing under the reek of alcohol. She did not bother to wait for Mulius, gesturing quickly for Na''ta to stay with him, and slid easily into the crowd. Those who didn''t move for her were moved by her, until she was at the edge of the pit. All around her men and women hooted and cursed at the two fighters circling like big cats. One of them was a full-grown man, easily past his fortieth year, with a head of black hair and arms bigger around than Alena''s head. He was tall and obviously strong, and obscenities flew from his fair- and bloodied- face with surprising speed, considering his bottom lip was severely swollen and a few teeth were missing from the front. His opponent was a much younger boy, only twenty, and at least a head shorter. His skin was darker than Alena''s, his head shaved bald, and his skin littered with tattoos. His right eye was swollen almost shut, and his knuckles were covered in blood, but he did not stumble like the grown man. He was much heavier, with just as much strength but more fat on him.


    The fight moved slowly, the two circling before the slurring man charged forward to swing and the boy reacted calmly. The fight also did not last much longer. The man, now obviously weaker, threw all his effort into one last left-handed punch, which the boy took to the cheek and returned with his own punch that sent the man toppling to the ground in an unconscious heap. The crowd erupted, and collectors went about their business, taking and doling out profits, keeping a cut for the house. As two bruisers carried the man away, Alena dropped into the pit across from the boy.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    He eyed her from across the pit, hands in loose fists at his sides. The crowd fell to a hush as she strode to the middle of the pit, just across the line, and held one fist up level with her heart, thumb towards herself. He ambled slowly to her, slowly bringing up one large fist and touching the side of it to hers. She held back a smile as she led him out of the pit, the drunken crowd watching parting the way to the door. Mulius and Na''ta waited just inside the entryway, Mulius looking like a mouse in a room of cats. Without saying a word she led them through the door, out of the fighting club, and back into the slums.


    They had walked for several minutes before Alena broke the silence. "Atir. This is Mulius. He''s a captain. Mulius, this is Atir. We used to fight together. We have one more stop before we go back to the Castle."


    Atir eyed Mulius carefully as he spoke, his voice low and gruff. "Kasara?" When Alena nodded, he went on. "Is he safe? I don''t know what''s going on, but I don''t like it, Little Lynx." Na''ta dropped back from Alena''s side to Atir''s, who rubbed her cheek and patted her shoulder.


    Alena laughed lightly at her fighting name. "Come now, Grizzly Bear. Would I lead you to a trap? Besides, I would like to see him try to arrest either of us." Mulius did not answer, only gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes.


    The group strolled through the streets, making their way back into the market square. Merchants were either packing up their stalls or trying to sell one last good as the sun started to sink below the horizon. A mother plucked clothes hanging from a line as her children ran around her, using sticks as toy swords outside their home. Further down, an elderly man begged for coins; Alena dropped two gold coins into his palms as they passed. A man offered promises of happiness and heightened awareness from an alley. A seamstress argued with a woman who tried to pay her less than she believed was right. People were always bustling through the marketplace, and the transition into the upper-class district was visible. Mothers did not fetch their laundry, but sent servants for it from their two-story homes. Music drifted from several windows, most of it shoddy at best. Candlelight flickered in studies, the smell of cooking meats wafted through doors, and voices rang in polite tones. There was no barking wares, nor rowdy children.


    Though Alena belonged anywhere in her kingdom she wanted to be, and Mulius carried himself with the confidence of a noble, Atir was painfully out of place; his clothes were ragged and blood-stained, his eye now swollen shut completely, yet he refused to shrink himself. He followed Alena without question or concern, whereas Mulius'' eyes continuously darted around and his hand flew to his sword and the slightest sound.


    Alena led them onward, though, until they came to a house with a small flag flying from an upstairs window, black and adorned with a golden greatsword. Alena knocked once on the door and waited. Finally, a short, elderly woman cracked open the door. When she realized whose face she was looking up into, she hurried to open the door the rest of the way and welcome them in. The servant, a nursemaid Alena knew, led them to the sitting room and rushed up the stairs.


    Alena sat on a sofa, Na''ta resting at her feet, when a girl the same age as Alena entered the room. The group stood to greet her, and Alena walked forward to pull her into a tight embrace. The girl looked younger than Alena, with porcelain skin, baby blue eyes, honey gold hair, and none of her scars, and came up only to her cheek, but held herself with the same confidence. When the girls separated, Alena gestured to Mulius and Atir. "Kasara, this is Mulius, and you know Atir." Na''ta came up to the girl and licked at her hand, rubbing her head against her thigh. "I need you to come back to the Castle with me."


    Kasara looked at her friend in mild surprise. "Now? The sun is set; I can spend the night then, I assume?" When Alena nodded, she went on in an overly dramatic fashion, "Well, then, I suppose I must. When one is called upon by Her Greatness, one would be smart not to deny, lest they find themselves at the wrong end of your scorn and your sword!" She laughed and crouched down to give Na''ta a hug, before turning to her former nurse, who waited in the corner. "Tyna, would you please tell my mother I''ll be spending the night with Alena?" When the old woman nodded and hurried off, Kasara made a dramatic sweep toward the door with her dress sleeve, "Well, then, we are off!"

 Chapter Five

    Alena and her guard stood in the throne room, her mother and her guard next to them. Her mother had chosen experienced soldiers, two women and on man, all of whom had spent years with her. By comparison, Alena and her three guards looked like little more than children playing soldiers.


    King Dyre, however, had no qualms about her choice. He looked them over and gave a brief nod, before diving straight into business. "So, Alena, I need you and your mother to venture to Estrium. Our intentions are peace, but we do not fear war. I have had maps drawn up for you and your mother. It''s roughly a three day ride, assuming you ride hard, and it will take you through the plains outside our walls, then a desert, and finally into the forest. There are likely to be tribes throughout the way, so exercise caution. You leave at sunrise." He rose and lifted one hand, five servants rushing forward. "Guards, you will be shown to your rooms. Dismissed."


    The servants made quick business of clearing out the guards, Kasara leading Na''ta to Alena''s room after a quick curtsy and hug to the King and Queen. King Dyre, Alena, and Queen Cirala all gathered around a map spread out on a table, the King pointing out the best path to take.


    Alena eyed the path quickly before speaking, "Father, would you have us wearing dresses for this? I know it''s important to present ourselves in the best light, but for such a long journey through desert..." She trailed off, resting two fingers on the wide swatch of desert across the map.


    The King chuckled lightly, setting a hand on his daughter''s shoulder. "Oh, Alena, of course not. I wouldn''t dare put you in a dress for any extended period of time, you wouldn''t listen anyway. No, wear your riding gear, but bring formal wear just in case. And, consider bringing your medals," he added with a wink.


    Alena''s face lit up and she nodded quickly. She did not have the numerous medals her father had earned, but she had a handful for feats of strength and character.


    King Dyre smiled at his wife and daughter, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, Alena, you had best go pack. I had your maids sent to your room, and a seamstress is there too, in case any of Lady Kasara''s clothes do not fit well." He kissed the top of her head and nudged her off toward the staircase up to their living floor.


    Alena curtsied lightly at the stairs and hurried up to her room, practically throwing herself through the cracked door. She swept Kasara up in a crushing hug, lifting her feet from the ground. Alena held her there for a few moments before letting her go, both of the girls laughing. "Oh, Kasara, my first peace mission!" Alena was giddy with excitement at the prospect of bringing her people allies; she had only ever gone with her father on short expeditions to crush rumors of rebellions and make brief public appearances, but Krin had accompanied them. Granted, he did not have the medals of valor and strength in combat she did, but he had been there nonetheless.


    Kasara laughed and waved one hand dismissively. "Oh, Alena, enough about business! Tell me more of this Mulius!" Kasara beckoned one of the maids over, having her help remove her evening dress to try on the riding gear she kept in Alena''s closet.


    Alena opened the riding bags that lay on her bed, inspecting the large satchels and the smaller pockets sewn on the outsides. Plenty of room for two dresses, extra clothes, shoes, and foods. Walking to her closet to choose her clothes, Alena quickly turned Kasara''s question over in her mind. "Well, he''s captain of some Youth Soldier squadron Krin has implemented. He seems good. He''s fast, and strong. He managed to save my life from an attack by General Revlin, blocked a blow coming down with his shield. I didn''t see him before the fight, so I don''t know where he was, but he stopped Revlin even before Na''ta. I don''t know anything else, but I''m sure you''ll find out."


    Kasara let out a high peal of laughter, clapping her hands as she strode across Alena''s carpet to join her. "Oh, this is good! An upstanding soldier, and he saved you! Wait, Revlin risked an attack on you?" She gave her friend a worried glance before turning back to the closet.


    Alena shrugged off Kasara''s concern. "I was sparring with some whelpling Revlin called his prodigy. Don''t know why he would bother training that one, he was quick enough on his feet but he was practically worthless with a sword. Didn''t start fighting until Revlin yelled at him." As she spoke, Alena thumbed through the clothes. She knew her mother would want her to bring at least one sleeved dress, so she pulled out a cream-colored dress with golden embroidery and handed it to one of the maids. After a moment''s pause, she said out loud to nobody in particular, "Secure me a sewing kit, please, with thread in the colors of whatever I bring." She also pulled out a plain, satin dark emerald gown that fell off her shoulders and matched her eyes almost exactly. She glanced over at Kasara, who had plucked out a shimmery aqua dress that would fall around her like water, and a soft pink dress with gatherings along the skirt to reveal an even lighter pink layer underneath. "Besides, Revlin has already given his signet to Krin. I do not need to do him any favors."


    This, however, got Kasara''s undivided attention. "He gaveKrinhissignet? Did he consult his family? His wife is such a sensible woman! She cannot possibly see any logic in that!" Kasara shook her head and tutted lightly. "Although, I suppose the General never has been much for his wife''s opinion. She did vanish for a whole year after she lost their baby," she admitted. She pushed the heavy gowns hanging in the closet aside, revealing the various riding outfits. Skipping past the first half, Alena''s riding gear, her hands fluttered over the dozen options.


    Alena removed her black garb and handed the bundle to a maid, "please send this down to be washed, I would like to bring it for tomorrow. And," she paused as she crossed the room to her oak box for her medals, "please have these polished." She hefted the box and gave it carefully to the stronger of the maids, a stout woman named Jyna who was easily in her forties and had a husband who kept the horses. The women bustled out into the hallway, shutting the door behind themselves. Alena pulled down a dark brown outfit, as well as a medium tan one only slightly darker than her skin. Kasara, however, stuck to the lighter choices; a light tan outfit, an off-white set the color of the birch wood travelers sometimes brought, and only one deep chocolate brown set that had exponentially more padding and warmth.


    Alena pulled on a pair of fur-lined, fitted pants on and a plain cloth shirt, finally releasing her almost-black hair from the intricate, though decaying, hairstyle. It came out easily, like a breath held for too long finally being released in a large sigh. She looked over at the piles of clothing on her bed as she ran her fingers through her locks, and Alena turned to Kasara with a smirk. "You should make a quick run to the Castle Smith, there''s a pair of surprises for you. Go, I am going to make sure everything is set up for Atir and Mulius. And make sure everything fits soon, we can''t keep Syanna to ourselves forever, the boys might need professional help." Alena smiled at the old seamstress. She had tailored all of Alena''s clothes her entire life, letting out dresses to account for muscle, and bringing in others to make up for shed fat.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    The old woman chuckled and said in a low, raspy voice, "Of course they do, soldiers and fighters know nothing of clothes." She shooed Alena out of the room before turning on Kasara. "Now you, young lady, are growing into a woman. We have to start right now before you go running off."


    Alena ducked out of the room laughing and shut the door behind herself. She looked up and down the hall until she spotted a servant hustling down the hall with a large bundle in her arms. Alena started jogging after her and called out, "Hold!" The servant stopped in her tracks as Alena came up beside her. "Do you know where Captain Mulius and Atir are sleeping?"


    The servant nodded quickly, her voice small and high-pitched. "Yes, Your Highness. I was just bringing these furs to the Captain, and Mister Atir is roomed two doors down." Shifting her weight and fidgeting as she spoke, the servant was clearly nervous speaking directly to Alena. She kept her eyes down and fiddled with the pile of furs as she spoke, hunching her shoulders as if she could vanish into herself.


    Alena studied her for a second, then nodded. "All right, I shall accompany you. Lead the way." When the servant began shuffling forward, Alena asked out of curiosity, "What is your name? I do not recognize you. What do you do here?"


    The servant''s eyes flashed up to Alena in surprise, then darted back to the floor. The top of her head scarcely reached Alena''s chin, and she shrunk into herself even more as she spoke, "Oh, I- I am a cook, Your Highness, my name is Tula. I have worked here all of my fifteen years. My parents had debts, you see, and they did not have money, but they had me and I have skills..."


    Alena''s eyebrows came together in confusion and anger. "You mean, your parents sold you to the Crown?"


    Tula nodded slightly, "Yes, Your Highness. But it is okay! No, more than okay! I am happy and fed and clothed here! There are dens and hovels that buy up young girls to sell out every night. I could have had a much worse life." The girl shuddered at the thought, tucking her chin into the furs as she reached out to open a doorknob. As soon as she moved her arm, though, the bundle toppled to the floor with a dense thud, and Tula dropped just as quickly, scrambling to gather them all.


    Alena settled on her knees and pulled together the furs nearest her, piling them on her lap. When they had all been picked up, she rose and knocked on the door as Tula thanked her continuously. A male servant opened the door, his eyes wide as he admitted Tula and Alena.


    Mulius stood with his back to her, pulling a white linen shirt on and fiddling with the fit of it around his waist and chest, far too big around his stomach, and several inches too long.


    "Do not worry, our seamstress can fix it for you. She works magic," Alena said, setting the furs on the bed.


    Mulius spun around, fists brought up in self-defense. When he realized it was Alena, a furious blush covered his face and he ducked his head, bringing one fist to his chest and planting the other at his side. "I am so sorry Your Highness. I did not know it was you, I swear it."


    Alena laughed openly, waving a hand between them. "At ease, Mulius. It is going to be a very long trip if you jump at my voice and walk around saluting me. I did not come to make you leap out of your skin. My seamstress will be coming to your room as soon as she finishes with Kasara, and I suggest you visit the Castle Smith tonight at some time, unless you have a habit of being up long before dawn. Do not worry, our night Smith is amazing and willing to work. He can outfit you with whatever your weapon preference is. You shouldn''t need any real armor, but if you''d like a coat of chainmail he can do that too; I am bringing one. If you need anything else, I am down the hall; pull the bell string and a servant can send down a note to see if I am awake. Do you have any questions?"


    Mulius gawked at her blankly for a minute, before shaking his head and running his hands down his shirt. "I- um, no, Your Highness." He hesitated for a moment, and at her nod of approval, asked timidly, "Will we be eating before we leave? I know His Majesty the King said we would leave at sunrise, but..."


    Alena grinned at him, "Oh, trust me, there is no way he could get me out of this castle without food in my stomach. Is that all?" Mulius nodded, cheeks still pink, and Alena gave a light curtsy. "Well, the, I shall leave you to packing." He raised his fist to salute again as she turned and walked out the door, pulling it shut behind herself. She chuckled lightly to herself, shaking her head as she walked the short distance to Atir''s door. She rapped once on the door, and he pulled it open himself. Without a word she strolled past him and he shut it just as simply.


    Alena noticed quickly that none of the servants that should have been here to help him were present. "What''s wrong, did you scare off the servants already?" Her voice was full of mock seriousness and disappointment, and she clucked lightly like her mother had done hundreds of times to her.


    Atir cracked a small smile, flashing crooked teeth and quipped back in his husky, low voice, "I am, apparently, the only person in this little party who doesn''t need three people to dress them." When Alena raised on eyebrow and waited, he shrugged and explained simply, "I fit the king''s clothes for the most part. A little bigger around, but an easy fix they said." He patted himself on the stomach for emphasis and gave her a wide, genuine smile. "How are you, Alena? It''s been two months since we''ve seen you in the ring. I haven''t been able to do any partner fights, you know."


    Alena grinned and settled onto his bed, pulling her knees up to her chest. She waited till he had sat next to her and leaned against him before speaking. "I know, I keep trying to get out of here, even just for one round, but Krin is driving me insane. Today was the first time I got out alone all week! I only get to ride Tibere around the yards or down paths with my mother. Do you think she races, Atir? Do you think she rides so fast she has to close her eyes and lean low and trust her mount and her hair is up in the air? Of course not! Not like I think her day-horse could keep up with Tibere anyway." She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Father has been understanding, though. He sends me down to the garrisons sometimes, so I can get some of my frustrations out without Krin''s head coming off." She giggled at the idea, then shot up straight to look at Atir, who gazed back at her with new worry. "Revlin tried to kill me today, by the way. I was having a training bout with some little whelp he called his prodigy. Athrin. Fast enough, good eyes like Revlin, but small, weak, like he wasn''t fully there. Revlin shouted at us and Athrin charged, but I dropped him. Revlin didn''t like that. Mulius caught the blade in his shield. It would''ve lodged straight into my shoulder." Alena shuddered lightly before continuing, "Krin has his support, Atir, and his signet. Pity, really. I can''t go see his wife now. Great source of gossip, since the women let her back into society. Took them long enough. I can''t blame her for leaving for a year after she lost their child, assuming he didn''t just send her away himself."


    Alena went on like this for several minutes, babbling on and on while Atir sat beside her and listened, intently watching the way her face changed each time she changed subjects like switchbacks up a mountain. Finally, Alena shook her head and laughed. "Ancestors damn it, Atir! I was supposed to be at the smithy by now! I need to sharpen my blade. If you want, you can come with me; he can get you set up with a weapon." When Atir nodded, the pair rose and Alena led the way out of the room and down the hall.