The play had, in fact, been excruciatingly boring. The first part with Edwin had been somewhat interesting, but the rest had been an unseemly combination of bad acting and flat dialogue that had made each scene feel like it would never end. The play had been so tedious that within the first hour Gideon had been fighting to not fall asleep sitting up. Despite trying his best not to, though, he'd ended up falling asleep once, only to be woken up by Len via another pinch.

When the play finally concluded, Gideon lifted himself to his feet and stretched noisily, drawing irritated glances from the nearby audience members as they stood up to leave.

“That was the worst six hours of my entire life,” he complained loudly.

Len had clearly endured the play better than Gideon, but the weary expression on his face indicated that he was also glad for it to be finished.

“‘Worst’ is going a bit far, but yes.”

Sharp, heavy footsteps rang out against the tile behind Gideon, surprising him. When he turned to look, Ennio and his partner were marching off towards the castle-palace. The woman looked over her shoulder to shoot Gideon a dirty look as they hurried along.

“Perhaps you should not criticize a play until you are out of earshot of its patron,” Len chided.

“Hey, you complained about it too, old man.”

“Let’s get moving. My legs and back are quite stiff. I could use a good walk.”

They set off together, joining the small crowd as it streamed around the castle-palace towards the front gate. Upon reaching the street, the crowd gradually dispersed in small groups to the north and south. Len walked slowly, with his hands locked behind his back and his eyes glued to the street before him.

“And what is your assessment?” he eventually asked.

Gideon blinked. “Of the Capella’s estate? The place is a small fortress. You’re not getting through the front gate without a battering ram and a platoon of soldiers.”

“...That may be. But say there was another way to gain access to the grounds. How difficult do you think it would be to retrieve the prince?”

“Why do I get the feeling that you already have this planned out?”

In response, a patient smile crept across Len’s face.

“If you could somehow get in…you’d have to deal with the hussars, there’s no getting around it. They seemed pretty on edge. Definitely paying attention. Once they’re dealt with, though, getting him ought to be fairly straightforward.”

“How do you rate the hussars as fighters?”

“...Well, they’re definitely no gaggle of starving Lake Men. They're professional soldiers. They're good, mounted or dismounted. The wings they wear are supposed to symbolize their mastery of the profession.”

“Could you win against one?”

Gideon scoffed loudly. “Me? Maybe. How the fuck should I know?”

“You are a mercenary yourself, are you not? The princess holds your fighting ability in very high regard.”

“I’ve never fought a hussar.”

“Hmm.…”

The hussars at the gate did not seem interested in Gideon and Len as they walked by. At a leisurely pace, Len stepped onto the sidewalk heading west, back in the direction of the Black Alps.

“If you were the one planning an assault, what approach would you use?”

“Alright, what the hell is this? Are you testing me, or something?”

“I’m simply asking questions. You need not answer.”

A sigh exploded from Gideon, and he shook his head.

“...The sewers would be the best way in, but you’d need some way to unlock them.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, they’re locked from the topside. Keeps people from…doing the type of thing you want to do. Also, the city watch patrols the sewers, which honestly might be a harder problem to deal with.”

A wide smile spread across Len’s face.

“Gideon, I would like to invite you to a briefing that will take place at Her Majesty’s villa in just a few hours time. The Dowager Queen will be unable to refuse your presence if both the princess and myself have vouched for you.”

Gideon frowned at him. “A briefing? Why? I'm not looking for work.”

"Not looking for work? Interesting. I'm sure the princess will be enthused to hear you've decided not to help us."

"I didn't say that," Gideon shot back. "But I never agreed to help you guys. I'm only here for Surelin."

Len stopped abruptly, and turned to face him.

"Allow me to offer you some advice, young man. As people, we are wholly defined by our choices. From a pragmatic perspective, selflessness may seem like the height of folly, but living purely by the tenets of opportunistic pragmatism rarely lends itself to a life full of meaning."

He paused for a moment, thinking.

"Do you know what it is I see when I look at you?"

Gideon balked at him. "...What?"

"I see someone who is desperately lost and confused. An unusually strong young man who is willfully applying all his youthful energy to life, but in all the wrong directions. I suggest you correct your own course now, before you become an old man filled with regrets."

Somehow, Gideon's words failed him. He blinked at Len, trying and failing to formulate any kind of response.

“We will part here," said Len. "Don’t be late for the briefing.”

He turned away to leave, crossing the street to the south. Gideon wanted to call out after him, attempt to refute what he'd just said, but hesitation stayed his tongue.

He doesn't know me, Gideon reassured himself. I'm capable of making good decisions.

But Len's words had rung true. Gideon made his way west down the sidewalk, barely conscious of the people passing by as he walked, lost in thought.

----------------------------------------

Anger had settled in relatively quickly after he'd put enough space between himself and Len.

That old fucking man has no idea what my life has been like. What could he possibly know about me? He's been rubbing elbows with queens and princesses for all of his. And he has the audacity to tell me how to live mine?

Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

I need to talk to Surelin, he thought, turning onto the street which lead to the abandoned villa.

The weather was finally beginning to clear up, and the setting sun colored the remaining clouds in the sky yellow-orange by the time he'd reached the villa's front door. The light skinned woman on sentry duty inside simply ignored him as he walked past her, but upon reaching the hole in the wall the two dark skinned men on guard duty halted him.

“Hold up. Where do you think you’re going?” the one on the right asked.

“Any-fuckin'-where I want,” Gideon barked.

“Nah, you can stay right there, merc. Celaena said we have to clear it with her whenever you enter or leave.”

“If you—”

Surelin emerged from the kitchen’s exterior door and walked out onto the snow-covered lawn towards them. She’d changed out of her winter clothing, and was now wearing a simple white blouse and brown shorts, along with her boots. Her hair was tied in a messy bun.

“What is this?” she asked.

The soldiers looked uncomfortable.

“Uh, orders from Celaena, ma’am. We’re, uh…supposed to let her know that he’s here.”

She came to a stop before them, glaring. “...I’m countermanding that order. Gideon is to have the exact same privileges as the rest of us. Is that understood?”

They both gave her a dissatisfied frown, but muttered acknowledgements.

“Good,” she said firmly, then nodded to Gideon. “Come on. We were just about to begin sparring.”

The guards stared at him as he followed Surelin inside. Behind the kitchen counter, the cook and the two maids were preparing food, working on what appeared to be dozens of small sandwiches.

Surelin stopped mid-step and turned to face Gideon.

“Have you met these three, yet?”

He shook his head.

She then turned to the cook, whose eyes widened a bit upon receiving her attention.

“Gideon, this is Garrik. He’s been my grandmother’s cook for the last fifteen years. What are you cooking for us tonight, Garrik?”

Garrik gave her an awkward smile. “Ah, there won’t be too much cooking tonight, ma’am. The Dowager Queen requested something light to be eaten during the brief. We had planned to make jam and butter sandwiches, with toasted bread.”

Surelin smiled back at him. “My favorite snack. Thank you, Garrik.”

“It’s my pleasure, ma’am.”

She turned to the two maids. “Gideon, this is Tia and Siora. Their mother was my grandmother’s head maid for thirty years before she retired. They’re both excellent housekeepers.”

Gideon gave them a nod, and they surprised him by responding with curtsies.

“Gideon used to be a mercenary before he rescued me from the Kenanites,” she continued. “He can be a little rough around the edges, but he’s a good person. I’d like it if you could all be friends.”

All three of them looked surprised by her request, and Garrik in particular seemed uncomfortable. Gideon returned their stares blankly.

“Of course, ma’am,” Garrik eventually replied.

“Good,” Surelin nodded. “Thank you.”

She left the kitchen then, walking out into the hallway without waiting for Gideon. He hurried after her.

“The hell was that about?” he asked after catching up.

“I don’t want anyone making you feel unwelcome,” she said curtly.

Gideon stared at her as they walked. At that particular moment her sudden kindness was very welcome.

"Thanks," he eventually said. "But I don't really mind either way."

“Well I do,” she replied, stopping to face him. “And I want you to be nice, too. They’ve been cooped up here for so long that they think all Losoans are the enemy.”

“Uh…alright?”

She studied his face for a long moment, then sighed. “...I’m sorry. The meeting was—”

Celaena appeared from around the hallway’s far corner, holding two dulled broadswords.

“Your highness! There you are. Are you ready to spar?”

Surelin advanced on her. “Did you tell the guards to stop Gideon?”

“...Yes, I did,” Celaena said, clearly surprised to be the sudden focus of Surelin’s anger. “He’s a Losoan, ma’am, and a mercenary. We can’t afford—”

“You will not make that type of decision again without first consulting with me.”

Celaena blinked a few times before replying, and sounded like she was suppressing anger.

"...Yes, ma’am."

Surelin snatched one of the broadswords out of Celaena’s hand.

"Let’s go," she said brusquely.

The snow which had coated the atrium's ground and furniture that morning had been cleared away, and there was more than enough space available for a sparring session. Gideon leaned back against the wall by the door, crossing his arms. Surelin and Celaena walked into the center of the atrium and took up positions opposite one another.

"It should be interesting to see what you've learned, ma'am," Celaena said. "Though in all honesty I'm not expecting much, since you only have a mere four months of training. I can only imagine the errors you've picked up. I'll be the one training you as we move forward, and together we'll correct those mistakes."

“Don't take me lightly, Celaena," Surelin replied, glaring. "You wouldn’t want to embarrass yourself.”

Celaena's eyes narrowed. “I won't.”

Surelin took up the Plow guard, and Gideon let out a quiet scoff after Celaena took up the Long guard.

If Celaena thinks Surelin is going to rush her blindly because she’s angry and inexperienced then she’s in for a big surprise.

Celaena held her position, watching intently as Surelin began to inch towards her.

Gideon frowned. Change guards, Surelin. What the hell are you thinking?

Suddenly, Surelin surged forward, then abruptly stopped after only a few steps, halting just outside of Celaena’s range. The feinted charge managed to unsettle Celaena, and Surelin charged her once again.

Their swords clashed loudly several times as Surelin rapidly pushed Celaena back towards the far wall. As she retreated, Celaena lost her footing, and looked shocked when Surelin dodged out of the way of her awkward swing.

If Surelin had been right-handed, she would have been in a somewhat poor position to take advantage of Celaena's misstep. But with the blade in her left hand, Surelin was ideally situated to strike at Celaena's opening. Surelin swung, and it was swift and true, connecting squarely with Celaena’s bicep.

Nice. That fakeout was clever.

Surelin turned away from Celaena, and gave Gideon a triumphant smile as she returned to her original position. She’d managed to make Celaena look foolish.

“That was…an interesting strategy, ma’am,” Celaena admitted. “But it only worked because you’re left handed. It won’t work for you a second time.”

“I think you’ll find that I’m full of strategies.”

Gideon noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, and looked up. Edea stood in one of the second floor windows, staring down at Surelin and Celaena. Displeasure filled her expression.

What? How long has she been up there?

He saw more movement, and before long the windows on the first floor around them filled up with curious faces. The sound of clashing swords had summoned the entire household, apparently. They chattered to one another noisily.

“Whoa, did the princess just win against Celaena?”

“I didn’t even know she could fight.”

“Will they go again?"

Clearly embarrassed, Celaena marched back to her original position and angrily brought her sword up into the Roof guard.

Gideon’s heart sank a little when he saw it. Surelin struggled the most against the Roof during their own sparring sessions, mostly because it played well to Gideon’s height advantage.

Celaena’s tall, but she’s not as big as me, he told himself. Surelin can still win it.

“Best two out of three, then?” Celaena asked, scowling.

In response, Surelin raised her sword into the Window guard.

Celaena suddenly rushed forward, instantly closing the distance between them, and took the initiative from Surelin before she could react.

Aw, hell.

The sounds of their swords striking each other again and again echoed off the walls of the atrium as the Forelians cheered with rabid excitement. Celaena kept up the pressure, attacking relentlessly to deny Surelin any chance to recover.

She began to slowly give up ground, then surprised Gideon by leaping backwards. Before she'd even found her footing again, she aimed a desperate but swift thrust at Celaena’s chest. Celaena parried it easily, and swung down hard at Surelin’s exposed wrist, connecting with it.

Surelin hissed with pain and shook her left hand. Celaena looked pleased with herself as she turned around, returning to her starting position. The Forelians around them let out gasps and excited exclamations.

“C’mon princess!”

“My money’s on Celaena.”

Gideon looked up at Edea, frowning. A smile curled at the corners of her mouth.

Rolling his eyes, Gideon looked back to Surelin. Stop fucking around and kick her ass, already.

Surelin looked utterly focused as she returned to her starting position and lowered her sword into the Fool’s guard. Celaena raised hers back to the Roof. The Forelians quieted down, and it was dead quiet as Surelin and Celaena stared at one another.

At almost the exact same instant, they both charged. Celaena’s strike was faster, but Surelin reacted just in time with a parry.

They both leapt backwards, and began to circle one another.

A wave of frustration manifested itself as tension in Gideon's shoulders and neck.

For fucks sake, you’re better than her! Just take the initiative!

As if she had heard his thoughts, Surelin suddenly lunged, brilliantly predicting Celaena's downward swing, parrying it handily. The parry had taken Celaena completely by surprise, and she still hadn’t recovered from it as Surelin followed up with a thrust aimed at her chest. Her thrust was merciful, though, little more than a tap to signal victory.

The Forelians exploded with noisy excitement. There were a few disappointed groans, but most were happy and celebrated loudly.

Celaena looked astounded as she extended her hand to Surelin.

“It’s my defeat, ma’am,” she said under the cheers. “I retract my earlier statements. You’re a phenomenal swordswoman. I can scarcely believe it.”

Surelin had a wide smile on her face as they shook, and turned it to Gideon, seeking approval. He wasn’t fully happy with her performance, but he still gave her a grudging half-smile.

He felt eyes on him from above, and looked up. Edea was casting a venomous glare at him.

Gideon smirked at her. I win.