The curtains were drawn back as the warm light from the sky stretched into the halls. The shadowed pillars of heat that coloured a yellow touch of the walls and mahogany floor expanded wide. The servants followed their daily tasks without discern over their duties and demands. It had to be perfect and pristine. This was Marron, the blue gem of Arcania.

The doors to the throne room were opened and the banners were lowered over the stone walls. The plants were watered, and the carpets were changed for blue today. The throne sat by upon its elevation with a second seat by the bottom. The throne was smelted with iron and silver by its position while the second seat was styled with elm. Simple and small.

The guards changed their routines and newer knights took their place. The Lances could be heard marching in the courtyard atop their destriers and chargers while the wind gained its momentum and the banner flowed with its blue image of a cold flame amidst a black ring over a midnight blue field. Arcania. Its great and glorious strength was as true as its lands, its mountains, the large city of Marron with its Gemstone palace, the grey keeps that overlooked the various borders and towns. It was larger now. Much larger than it had ever intended.

The servants straightened themselves and lowered their heads as a figure entered the hall. They folded their hands upon themselves and lifted their elbows slightly. The page boys had instead kneeled, and the knights stamped their spears.

“Your Grace,” the words left their lips with practiced spur as the figure who had entered held a high frame with luscious golden hair held by a bun.

Alice Calgrate, Queen Alice, stood firmly amidst her slightly aged face. She waved her hand at the formalities and spoke her order with a single tone.

“Bring Princess Gwyn to the study immediately,” she said.

“Yes, Your Grace,” the words filled the space as perfect as they had been the day before and the day before that.

Alice left the hall and proceeded to the royal study as she let out a sigh. She looked to her side and found the familiar guard following her steps as he would always do everyday. On her right was her handmaiden, Janyn Morklyn, her cousin. She almost rolled her eyes at the thought as she had nearly forgotten that most of her personnel were occupied with her distant relatives.

They entered the study, and the Queen waved her hand once more. “Clear out the desk. Bring me one of Closter’s maps. The new ones. And bring the pieces.”

Janyn moved ahead to obey, but as soon as the guard moved to help, the Queen interjected. “Not you, Sir Harrow. Stand back and look like a tree if you can,” Alice said plainly.

“Y-Yes, Your Grace,” Harrow gulped slowly and nodded. A hint of embarrassment filled his cheeks and movements with a slight quiver.

Alice sighed and shook her head as she moved over to help set the table.

“Y-Your Grace?” Janyn asked with confusion.

“Quiet, Janyn. You’re too slow,” the Queen rolled her eyes freely this time.

Once the map was set, the Queen let out a soft breath of air as she overlooked the continent. The map was sketched, simple, plain. Nothing like the painted works of the earlier maps. Alice commissioned a rough map such as this to be made for her uses. The map would be updated and drawn upon by her own hand with every letter she received from her husband, King Mordred. Arcania held issues of its own with its forceful militaristic and expansionist goals. After Verrex would fall, Arcania would be hold all of the important sites and landmarks it would need to impose a new High King. At least, that was what she planned with her husband.

Alice recalled her breath and closed her eyes. She counted till five and opened her eyes again. One step at a time. Right now, she needed to focus on preparing her eldest child, her daughter Gwyn.

The door soon opened to find the princess enter with her servants as well. The Queen raised a hand and dismissed them.

“Leave us,” Alice ordered.

Princess Gwyn turned to her servants and nodded as they obeyed their majesty’s orders. The Queen then looked to Janyn who understood Alice’s gaze immediately. She also left the study. Only the guard was permitted to stay.

“Mother,” the Princess curtseyed with a short bow.

Alice walked up to Gwyn and passed her hand under her daughter’s chin. She lifted her face with two fingers and found the girl’s gaze meet her own with twin blue eyes. An equal stare that matched her own blue pair.

“You should use less powder. It presents you as desperate,” Alice said.

Gwyn bit her lip and slapped her mother’s hand away. The Princess wished to give a remark but let the comment slide and merely nodded.

“Yes, Mother,” she replied.

Alice nodded approvingly and looked to the map. “I believe it is time that I involve you more in my decisions. I promised you that I would, and I believe that it is time.”

Gwyn narrowed her eyes at her mother. “Why now?”

“Your father has reached the capital of Verrex. A dove arrived last night. Rodri is to march on the capital and deliver the final blow,” Alice said.

Gwyn’s eyes widened as the words hit her. “Then … This will be Rodri’s first battle?”

“First battle that he will lead, yes. Your father has assured me that he has seen some combat in the six months that he has been with him,” the Queen nodded.

Gwyn bit her lip and looked down to the map. Alice sighed and looked to her daughter.

“What troubles you?” she asked.

“It’s nothing.”

Alice frowned. “I have brought you here to speak your mind, Gwyn. I will not treat you like a child, so you must not act like it.”

Gwyn hesitated for a moment. “Father says-”

“Your father is not here. When you are with me, I would have my daughter stand strong in her opinions.”

The Princess took a moment to collect her thoughts before she nodded. “Rodri is not ready. He is a gentle soul. Father knows this. If he … If Rodri is made to lead a battle and is made to kill, he will not show teeth. If he sees his men dying and struggling, he will withdraw. He will fail father …”

“I know …” Alice said with a soft hum. “That is why you will be made a priority. Rodri will fail. Your father will not take any kind reception to that. His priority will be to look for his trust in you. The blade of Arthur will pass to then by his will.”

Gwyn clenched her hands together and let out a breath of air. “Yes … Mother …”

“The responsibility of ruling Arcania is a great task. One that will require you to do much. More than that, your father’s letter has also revealed another detail. He is returning to Marron,” Alice said.

“What? Why?”

“He has been injured and wishes to use the springs to heal. You understand what that will mean for you, yes?” the Queen asked.

“Yes, Mother.”

“Say it then. I would hear every thought of yours. Even your understanding of my words,” Alice ordered.

Gwyn sighed. “It means that Father will look to see how we have been managing the kingdom while he has been away. He will see if I have made any … contributions.”

Alice nodded. “Good. Then you understand what is expected.”

“Competent judgement and good integrity,” Gwyn muttered monotonously.

“Yes,” Alice began. “Therefore, you will need to make a few decisions of your own. Decisions that show that we are a strong family. Decisions that show that Princess Gwyn is as competent as her mother.”

The Queen pressed her palm against the map to flatten the paper once more. Her fingers moved over the lands as she watched her daughter from the corner of her eye.

“King Mordred has made considerable advances in the last few years. His wars against the Kingdom of Aulag saw the territory of the Mountain Kings added to Arcania. The death of the demon, Rykar, saw to that. The annexation of the lands from the eastern border to the dunes saw a lot of resources added to the kingdom from the border territories. More than that, the death of your grandfather, Arthur, saw the baronies and counties added to Arcania from the six realms that neighboured our borders formerly. Now, these former kings are just viceroys. They exercise control on behalf of the King. With the expansion into the Kingdom of Verrex, what should be our priority?”

The Princess bit her lip and narrowed her eyes over the map. Alice watched as her daughter attempted to analyse the map. The Queen felt her eyes fall over her daughter’s hair. Long and yellow as the sun as it reached her lower back. It reminded her of her own hair when she was younger. How ambitious she was back then. Alice felt her eyes quiver for a moment as she overlooked her daughter. Her heart quickened as a brief fear filled her. The more she tried to imagine her life in her daughter’s eyes, the more it shook her.

“It’s too much, Mother,” Gwyn began.

Just as Alice was about to open her mouth in a harsh retort, her daughter continued.

“Too much land, too many kingdoms, too many former enemies. Arcania on its own is small, but under the High King, it commanded loyalty, right? Father has pushed our borders far, but our roots are too weak. Perhaps we should divert our attention to the lands closer to us? The six realms, they were formerly six kingdoms, yes? They hold key locations to our own. Arcania is strong and powerful, thanks to Father, but our new lands are not. The six kingdoms are just viceroys now, yes? What does that make them? Grand Lords then, right? I believe we should work with them to solidify and reinforce their support.”

Alice smiled calmly. “That’s a start. Professional enough. How do you believe that we should go about doing this?”

Princess Gwyn pressed her lips together and stared at the map again. “Legitimacy? Father did do a bad deed when he killed Grandfather. The death of the High King saw the removal of the traditions. We need to show that we still respect that?”

The Queen nodded. “Yes, we. Not Father. They need to see that we, the family of the King, we of House Colfyre, are worthy monarchs.”

“And how do we do that? We don’t share many of those traditions,” Gwyn said. “They are right by that. We are not traditional.”

“Then we do something traditional. You are of royal blood as is your sister, but she is too young. You are of age and the eldest of the children. It is your hand that will be the mark of that alliance and that support,” Alice explained.

Gwyn took a deep breath and closed her eyes. The words she had dreaded for a decade had echoed from her mother’s lips. Her heart rung against her chest and beat with a sound thunder. It felt like a swelling to the Princess. A bloated mess that filled her chest and grew more and more. She swallowed the weight and opened her eyes.

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“I … I understand, Your Grace,” she spoke softly but loud enough for her mother to listen.

Alice looked at her daughter for a moment longer in thought before she spoke. “It was the same with me.”

“What?” Gwyn asked.

“It was the same for me. My marriage to Mordred was … It was just a matter of cloak and dagger. Politics. Arrangements. I never sought love in my life for such things because I understood my role. Preserve Arcania. Keep us strong. Be a Queen. A noble. Whatever was required of me. There is little for us in the place of war and blood. All of that is but a man’s field, but I learnt an important lesson from my mother. It will be one that I give you now. There are borders but no boundaries. Power is a hand to those who use it,” Alice then pulled all of the markers of the different kingdoms together. “Everyone has a role to play, and everyone must understand their place in the world. To keep it as such, you need a firm hand to pull them together. Strong leadership builds unity, and unity is power.”

Gwyn nodded politely. “Yes, Mother.”

The Princess acknowledged her mother’s words, but they were words she expected of her. Being by the side of King Mordred was an exhausting and dangerous position. Her mother had adapted in many ways to survive, and Gwyn may have to go down the same road. The imperial life seemed to chain her more than she would have liked, but she also understood that continued prosperity needs people who are willing to make difficult decisions to keep their lands safe. This was an empire now, but they still could not help but refer to it as a kingdom. Perhaps that was the issue? Arcania still felt too alone. Gwyn understood the feeling. A part of her wanted to run away and live a life far differently than the one her mother envisioned, but she also wanted to protect her home and lead.

Alice cleared her throat briefly and looked to the map. “If you are to take a strong role within the kingdom, you will need to also be skilled at strategy and a bit of tactics. While I disdain war, you will need it. You will be trained from tomorrow to fight as your brother, but more than that, you will learn to campaign like your father. I have only waited this long because I believed that Rodri might surprise us all. He might still do so at the siege, but who knows for sure? But no matter. You have a clever mind. You will learn quick. May the Goddess guide him and us all.”

***

Gwyn sat by the wooden bench at the tiltyard. Her eyes narrowed as she took sight upon a destrier that raced across the field. Its rider was a young girl who laughed in bliss as she was armed with a wooden pole. On her opposite end rode a second rider, an older male who carried a similar pole. They met at the center of the tilt where the man thrusted his pole against the girl who ducked under his attack and stabbed her pole against his armoured chest. She giggled as she evaded the attack and nearly knocked the man off his horse.

Gwynn only sighed as she leaned back against the bench. She looked around at the yard. It was spacious with fences and various wooden stands. She remembered the field from when she was a child. A tourney was held here back when knights competed for whatever standard they could earn amongst the lords and nobles. If they were fortunate, they could earn a favour from the King. It had been many years since then. She could barely even recount who took part, but she still remembered.

“Gwyn!” a voice broke her from her thoughts as she saw the young girl who rode at the tilt run up towards her.

The Princess sighed as she looked at the girl. “You should stop this. You know Mother hates it when you neglect your studies.”

The girl scoffed. “Mother’s studies are boring. Learning about status and ‘how to be a princess.’ Ugh. She treats me like I’m five and stuffs me in pillows.”

“They’re dresses, Nia. Everyone wears them, even the men,” Gwyn smiled.

“And they look foolish! With their long and puffy sleeves and those flaps. They stretch so low and so far! Why would anyone suffocate themselves with them?” Nia huffed.

“Houppelandes, bliaut, and …” Gwyn hummed in thought for a moment.

“See!” Nia chimed. “Even you struggle to remember it all, Princess Perfect!”

Gwyn chuckled and shook her head. “Mother will still be angry with you when she sees you wearing mail and gambesons.”

“Do they not look wonderful? Just like Father, yes?” Nia grinned.

Gwyn nodded calmly. Her peaceful smile reflected off Nia who beamed with excitement. Her younger sister’s midnight black hair reminded her so much of their father. She and Rodri looked the most like the King while Gwyn took after her mother.

“Father sent a letter. He has been injured, but it is nothing serious. He has said that he will arrive back at Marron soon,” the Princess said.

Nia squirmed as a wide smile stretched her face. The brightness in her eyes shined like the sky on a clear summer’s day. Painted and perfect.

“What of Rodri? Do you think he has slain a hundred men by now? Will he have any scars? Could we steal his sword if he’s too tired?” Nia giggled.

Gwyn merely shook her head once more. “No, Rodri has been given command of the army. They are to march on the capital of Verrex and deliver the final blow.”

Nia squealed from the delight as her cheeks burned red from the wild thoughts that ran through her mind.

“I hate Rodri! Why does he get to go on campaign with Father? I’m a much better rider than him! I’d make a fierce knight! Just like the Goddess!” Nia shouted.

Gwyn snickered in return. “Lies! Sir Garret just lets you win cause you’re the Princess!”

“No!” Nia fired back. “Sir Garret can’t even unhorse me every time we joust!”

The young girl then ran off to older knight who she had contested with while she yelled for his validation. Gwyn felt her smile grow as she saw her sister’s pride. Her innocence seemed to be all she had in days such as these.

“Sir Garret! Sir Garret!” she yelled as she ran up to the much taller knight.

“Yes, Your Highness,” the knight replied with aged face and greyed hair.

“I beat you everyday in jousting, right?” Nia asked as she tugged on his arm.

The older man laughed. “Yes, Your Highness. You unseat me like a queen everyday.”

“Tell Gwyn! Tell Gwyn!” Nia then dragged the old knight to the young Princess.

Gwyn giggled and waved her hand lightly with a nod. Garret returned then nod with a smile.

“She does indeed, Your Highness. I have never been able to gain a win against the talented Princess Nia!” he said with a loud tone.

They both understood the illusion. Nia would train everyday such as now. With horse, sword, and bow. She could not seem to gain much improvement in fencing or archery, but she loved riding horses. Gwyn and the old Sir Garret took pity on the girl and painted the dream that she now held deep in her heart.

“I am pleased to see that my sister is so proficient in her training. How goes her swordsmanship and archer?” Gwyn asked.

Nia grumbled and folded her arms. “W-We don’t talk about that.”

“She’s-”

“We don’t talk about that! I silence you for the day, Sir Garret! Go! You are relieved of your duties!” Nia quickly yelled.

Gwyn continued to smile and nodded to the old knight. Garret gave a bow to the princesses and wished them farewell. Gwyn then stood up and let out a breath of air.

“Come, Nia. Let’s have a walk. Better Mother finds you with me than here. Although, you smell like a pig from running around in the mud all day,” Gwyn giggled.

Nia pursed her lips together and lightly kicked at Gwyn’s shin over her dress.

“Ouch! Careful! You’ll ruin my dress!” Gwyn laughed.

They strolled out of the field and Gwyn’s servants seemed to reappear as soon as she started walking. The Princess would often dismiss or order them to follow at a distance. She placed further emphasis on this when her sister was around. Nia hated the submissive obedience of the palace and the strain of the nobility that seemed to only desire to ensnare her bloodline.

“Nia. There’s something we need to discuss,” Gwyn began.

“Hmm?” she hummed playfully.

“Rodri … Brother lacks what is needed for Father to accept him.

Nia raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Rodri is a soft-hearted person, Nia. You know this. He would never harm or endanger anyone,” Gwyn said. “Father … When Father goes on his campaigns, he faces off against powerful and strong men. Much of that requires that he fight with discipline and strength and skill.”

“Like me!” Nia giggled.

“Yes, Nia,” Gwyn smiled. “But Rodri is not like us. He will not fight to the death or kill as many as Father asks. He will not be able to survive the final battle at Verrex. Once Father sees that, he will then look to us. I will need to prove to Father that I am worthy of the throne. I am of age now and that …”

She took a breath of air and skipped over her words.

“It means that I will need to be as strong as you, and as Father, and stronger than Rodri. Mother says I will be training with you tomorrow.”

Nia smiled briefly before her lips moved into a frown. “Rodri is still a good fighter! And he’s the heir, isn’t he? Why would Father not …”

Nia paused. “Rodri’s strong. I know he will do well. Father will be proud, and Rodri will become king.”

Gwyn bit her lip. “Yes … Yes, of course. He will do well.”

Nia looked at her sister and pressed her lips together. “Will you really be training with me?”

Gwyn smiled again. “I will.”

The girls giggled together. “Do not fear Sir Garret! He is but an amateur compared to me, and I will be sure to teach you everything you need to know for victory!”

Gwyn laughed. “I will be in good hands then, my dear Sister. An expert already. I will learn much in a few days by your side.”

They smiled at each other for a moment longer before Nia seemed to turn silent. Her eyes evaded Gwyn’s and she followed the stone floor as they walked along the halls.

“Gwyn?”

“Yes?”

“Is Rodri … Will he die?” Nia asked.

Gwyn stopped in her tracks and Nia did the same. The younger girl looked to her sister while Gwyn considered her words. It was a possibility but to tell Nia would be a different matter entirely.

“No,” she said as firmly as she could. “He won’t … He’ll return in a month, and we will all be together.”

Nia smiled widely in return and nodded. Gwyn was unsure if her sister believed her, or she had assumed a farce to comfort her. Either way, the siblings seemed to share in their brief attempts at comfort. They continued forward for a while longer until Gwyn stopped before a tapestry that depicted the first ruler of Arcania.

The textile art depicted that of a man crowned by black iron and six wolves bowing to him. The visceral image of a mutilated corpse lay at his feet with plates and forks lying about. His bloody hands lay free and strong while his eyes were yellow and hungry.

“Is something wrong, Gwyn?” Nia asked as she looked to the tapestry.

“Do you ever wonder if there is something strange about him? King Lycaeon?” the Princess asked.

“Who?” Nia blinked innocently.

Gwyn sighed. “This is the reason why you must pay attention to your studies. King Lycaeon. It was he who built Arcania.”

“Is he related to us?” Nia asked curiously.

“No. Our great grandfather, Uther, took the throne from him,” Gwyn continued. “Uther killed Lycaeon and usurped the throne in a rebellion. At least, that’s what Father said.”

“Why are the wolves bowing to him?” Nia asked.

“Lycaeon was called the Wolf King for his strength,” Gwyn said.

“Did he have an heir? Did … Did Uther kill Lycaeon’s family?” Nia asked.

Gwyn then shook her head. “He ate his son,” Gwyn stared at the disfigured corpse. “No one knows why or for what reason.”

Nia grimaced at the seen. “Father killed grandfather, right?”

“Yes. Grandfather was the High King,” Gwyn replied.

“And Grandfather had to kill his father, Uther, right?”

“Yes …”

“Will … When Rodri returns, will he have to kill Father?” Nia asked.

Gwyn looked back to the tapestry and frowned. Her mind spun for a moment until she looked back to Nia with a smile.

“No, definitely not. Those days are in the past and Father had a good reason to kill Grandfather,” she said calmly.

Nia smiled back. “I’ll try to pay more attention to my studies.”

Gwyn set her hand atop her sister’s head and ruffled her hair to which the girl giggled. “I love you, Nia.”

“I love you too, Gwyn.”

***

The night settled in as Gwyn found her way to her room. The warmth of her bed nearly swallowed her whole as she sunk into the mattress. The thick wool and fur of her blanket made her feel the weight of her mind. The day had taxed hours from her body and drained her life of a painful strain that zapped all energy from her limbs. She laid in complete disarray for a moment before she seemed to curl up into the blankets. The comfort of her drifting mind cut away the strings that pulled at her arms and legs to act and dance. She felt free to collapse and remain underneath the weight of nothing rather than the entire kingdom.

As she slumbered into the night, her mind seemed to draw itself near to a central figure, a spec of light that hovered above the world. It was pale, bright, and surrounded by the darkness of and eternal veil. The light then poured into her body and pulled at her limbs and her flesh. Her arms pressed together as her fingers pulled into itself and her feet stretched out to fill that of hind limbs. Her mouth felt far from her face, as if it had grown and stretched out. She felt herself stir in her bed until she found herself standing on all fours above the blankets.

Gwyn felt her heart race as she dug what seemed to be claws into the fur and wool. She scratched and tore because it felt real, natural, and exhilarating. She hated the material and how it felt against her skin. The fuzzy sensation was too foreign and uncomfortable. It needed to be ruined, but she knew that she could never do that. Her body felt far away from herself. She could feel her limbs, but she could not move them. She tore at the fabric and scratched at the wood. Her claws ripped at the wood and tossed around the portraits and chairs.

She bit and broke into the furniture, but she limbs seemed to control how she tossed and cracked. She ran about the room and ran her fingers against the walls and floor. Her fingers tore at the wood and dug at the mahogany. It felt strange against her fingers, it felt good. She scratched and dug further and further against the odd shapes carved into the walls for décor. Her eyes eventually caught sight of a flash into the dark room, and she saw the mirror. She stood tall and large, much larger than she normally seemed in front of the mirror. Her body felt strong, powerful, and light. Instead of the gown that she had fallen asleep with, she saw a white, furry body of a massive creature that stood on its hind legs. Her heart raced like fire once again and she stared at the sight for a moment longer before a powerful urge built in her throat. A sound bellowed from her throat in a raspy tone that snarled at the sight until she lunged at the mirror and shattered it to pieces.

Her eyes then shot open, and Gwyn found herself lying in bed. Her heart drummed against her chest as she looked into the familiar sight of the pillow she had snuggled into. She held her breath and gripped her chest before her heart began to relax. She was still in bed and her hands felt the same as the day before. Something felt strange about her chest. She could feel her skin. Where was her gown?

Just as she slowly peeled herself out of the blankets, her eyes ached from the sunlight that burned into the room. Were the curtains not drawn before she slept? As she sat up, the visage of the room became clear. Her eyes widened at the sight.

The walls had been torn and the paintings had been ripped to shreds. The curtain laid in tattered pieces while her mirror stared back at her with a bare wall while shards of the shattered glass lay on the floor. Gwyn felt her chest beat against her chest and her heart began to sing once again. A strange sensation filled her tongue as she tasted a bitter liquid fill the muscle. She pressed her fingers to her lips and the inside of her mouth and tasted the wet sensation of something red and warm. Blood?