The hour was near noon when the Knight of Belrose and his companions arrived.

They were a dozen in total, all on horseback. A vast cloud blanketed the entire sky, but pale rays of sunlight poked through holes in it and shined down onto the world below. They rode through the eastern gates as hundreds of onlookers watched. The inhabitants of Baelcroft had gathered in the streets; fieldworkers, masons, smiths, bakers, weavers, and laborers of a dozen other professions. Old and young, men and women, healthy and sick, all desired to see the face of their hero. Trumpets blared and drums were rhythmically beaten. Sir Reinhart rode at the front of his party, the splendid image of a true warrior. In a time without hope, those who felt they had been abandoned believed in him. In days of darkness, the knight offered the lowborn peasants of Trilea a new dawn. The crowds cheered and called out to the him as he rode past them.

The guardsmen of the town had rushed to clear the path ahead of his arrival, but even so a few of the townsfolk managed to worm their way past the rows of guards. A young girl approached Sir Reinhart and offered him a white flower, which he took with a gentle smile as he rode past the girl. A teary-eyed man tried to embrace the knight but was dragged away by a guard before he could. Sir Reinhart watched with a hint of sadness but said nothing. A woman with sorrowful eyes begged for an end to the fighting as the knight silently looked on. Though there were many regrets that he carried, his reason for fighting was not among them. Even if it cost him everything, he would ensure that a day would come when there were no more crowns. To Sir Reinhart, his mission was abundantly clear. He would gladly champion those who had been damned and discarded by gods and kings.

The knight spurred his horse onward.

✸✸✸

Amana was a frazzled mess as she stood in the yard, her dress still damp from the accident earlier. She was tired, and not overly interested in what was happening around her, a stark contrast to the other servants around her. Polly was so giddy that Amana thought she might faint. The yard was cramped, with all the servants organized into rows based on their rank. At the front stood the town officials, positions that Amana had hardly considered to be of servitude before now. Next came the pages, messengers, and stable hands. Finally, the handmaidens were lined up on the last row. Are we lowest among the servants because of the nature of our work, or is it simply because we are girls and women? Across the way, in front of the manor, stood the baron and his family, the steward Randall, and old Lord Willem. The nobles were all dressed in their finest attire, and Amana presumed that both Lady Elise and Riah were wearing the new shoes that she and Lloyd had delivered on the previous day. The young girl appeared to be quite uncomfortable in her fanciful dress as she struggled to stand still. Poor child, she wants to be here even less than I do. All of this formality must be new to her. Amana was no stranger to ceremonies like this, her upbringing had been a steady stream of lessons of proper court etiquette. She understood that Lord Hyward wanted to make an excellent first impression, and to show Sir Reinhart the quality of his house.

Lloyd glanced over his shoulder and gave Amana a warm look, which she returned with a quick raise of her brow. Though he was not an appointed official in any manner, he stood beside his uncle, Lukas, on the front row. With Kamon as his close friend, I suppose it's already a foregone conclusion that'll he succeed his uncle when the day comes. He'll probably even be steward someday, just as he dreams. Though part of her wanted to be mad at him for how he had dismissed her story when she confessed to him, part of her understood his skepticism. Lloyd doesn't want to believe things that he cannot explain. He hides behind books because they offer protection from the unknown.

"You're shrewd, getting your hooks in that one," Morgan whispered without any emotion. She stared straight ahead as she spoke.

Amana shot her an irritated look. "You presume too much, Morgan. And what do you care, anyways?"

Morgan made no move to betray her intent. "I don't care, really. I simply found it curious."

"Lloyd and I are not involved. You've misunderstood, somehow," Amana stated simply.

"I see. How premature of me," Morgan mumbled softly.

Yesterday, she accused me of being odd, but this was far stranger of her. Amana disliked the thought that she might become the subject of rumor. She had no romantic interest in Lloyd, though she did accept that he might rise to a high rank within Baelcroft. A simple house servant would be unbelievably fortunate to wed a steward. But I am not a simple house servant. Her future was uncertain and in doubt, but she still clung to the dream that she might someday be a princess again. Even with the distraction of Sir Reinhart's arrival, she knew that the road before her was perilous. Sooner or later, my deception here will be laid bare. What will I do then?

As she pondered, Amana heard the growing rumble of excitement outside the inner wall, which she knew to mean only one thing. All eyes turned to the gates, and a moment later a group of riders entered the yard, the sound of thunderous cheer echoing behind them. The men wore cuirasses and pauldrons of polished steel, and the symbol of a golden sunflower across their surcoats. The lead rider had an unmistakable aura, and with only a single look Amana knew him to be Sir Reinhart. His hair was close-cut on the sides, but longer on the top, and the color of a dark red. His face was clean shaven, and his jaw strong. A single scar ran across his straight nose, but it was long faded and did not change the fact that he was undeniably handsome. His eyes shined a bright gold that matched the sunflower across his chest. Well, he certainly looks the part.

Polly let out a soft squeal and nudged Amana. "He must be the fairest knight in the land!" The handmaiden proclaimed gleefully. "I cannot believe he has come here."

Amana raised her brow. "Why has he come here? Just to meet with the baron?"

As the last of the armored riders entered the yard, a group of enamored townsfolk tried to follow behind them and were abruptly stopped by a wall of guardsmen. The gates that led to the manor were quickly closed, barring entry for the commoners of Baelcroft. "He's here on important business. About the war, I think," Polly replied.

Sir Reinhart brought his horse to a halt in front of the baron and swung down onto his feet. "Sir Reinhart, welcome to Baelcroft. You are early, I had not expected your arrival for another few days," Baron Hyward greeted warmly. With his back to Amana, she could not hear the words the knight was saying. The baron gave a smile, but it quickly faded. "Indeed. Another village, just a few days ago," Lord Hyward said in response to something Sir Reinhart had asked. The knight seemed angry for a moment, but it passed so quickly that Amana wondered if she had only imagined it. He then made his way down the line of noble lords and ladies, greeting each of them. He took a knee in front of Lady Riah and the words he said to the child brought a smile to her pouty face. He offered a handshake to Lord Willem, and the grey-haired older man seemed genuinely grateful. As the formalities were finished, the rest of Sir Reinhart's men dismounted, and Baron Hyward stepped forward to address everyone. "Servants of Baelcroft, see to it that our guests are well taken care of. You may all return to your duties," he announced loudly.

With the ceremony complete, Mildred snapped into action. The head servant barked orders and sent the handmaidens scurrying back to their duties. The stable boys led away the horses, and those of high enough rank to have a seat in the baron's dining hall made their way into the manor. And now comes the feasting. With a tired sigh, Amana set off toward the kitchen.

✸✸✸

The dining hall was a rectangular room, lined with rows of long tables. Flaming braziers lined the walls, and black chandeliers of lit candles hung overhead. A large rug ran the length of the hall, its once vibrant color long faded. The knight and his men had been given a short time to freshen up, and then the midday feast had begun in earnest. Along with the other handmaidens, Amana found herself in a constant back-and-forth scramble between the dining hall and the kitchen. She carried plates of roasted pork and fowl, wheels of cheese, loafs of bread, and sweet cream-filled pastries to the tables of hungry feasters. The companions of Sir Reinhart had a particularly voracious appetite, owing to their long-time spent on the road. As his esteemed guest, the knight himself sat beside Baron Hyward at his high table. By the time the kitchen had been emptied of food, Amana's feet ached. She hoped to steal a moments rest, but Mildred had other plans.

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"Amana, stop dallying. Fetch the wine jug and keep the cups full," the grumpy old servant barked. Mildred stood in the center of the kitchen, directing the servants around her as though they were on strings, and she was a marionettist.

"Yes, headmistress." Amana quickly searched around for a jug that hadn't been emptied. She nearly collided with another handmaiden as she weaved through the crowded kitchen. After finally finding a clay jug that was mostly untouched, she marched back into the dining hall. Amana deftly moved around the room, filling the cups carefully so not to spill any wine. I've already made one mess today; I doubt I shall survive a second. The town officials set on one side of the hall, mild-mannered and well-behaved as they ate and drank. It was a different story across the way, as the men of Sir Reinhart's party were much livelier. They laughed and belched and made childish japes at each other. One of the handmaidens that Amana scarcely knew, Petra, had found a seat in the lap of one of the men. He had a dark, pointed beard, and Petra giggled as he whispered something in her ear. I think they've had enough to drink.

"Amana, you seem to be doing well," Lukas observed with a tired smile as Amana filled his cup.

"Well enough, my lord," she replied.

"My nephew seems rather fond of you." Lukas glanced at Lloyd who went wide-eyed. "Why, just the other night he-,"

"That's enough, uncle!" Lloyd's face was a bright shade of red, and Amana couldn't help but laugh.

Lukas gave a shrug. "Very well."

Lloyd awkwardly cleared his throat. "Pay him no mind, Amana," he said, before whispering "I'd like to speak with you after the feast ends, does that sound alright?" After a pause, Amana gave a nod. "Good, then let's meet in the yard, near the stable."

With few tables left that she had not passed, Amana swallowed down her nerves and made her way up to the lord's high table. At the end of the table sat the steward of Baelcroft, but as she went to pour wine into his cup, his hand covered the top of it.

"I'm quite alright, servant." Steward Randall offered a smile as he looked up at Amana. "After all, I wouldn't want to lose my wits." He was a thin man, his dark hair curly. Long patches of whiskers ran down the sides of his face in front of his ears. Lloyd's words of warning from the day prior echoed in her head as she stood before the steward. Does he suspect me?

"Of course, my lord," Amana said with a bow. She moved down the table, wary of his watchful gaze. The steward was a difficult man to read, and Amana was not sure what to make of him. He was courteous enough, but never did he betray his true thoughts. He kept to himself for the most part, though Baron Hyward seemed to hold his counsel in high regard. Though he was old enough to have sired several sons, Steward Randall had no children that Amana knew of. Nor was he wed, though she supposed that he may have been at one point. She passed by Lord Willem, who greeted her kindly. Kamon, on the other hand, made a face of disdain when he recognized Amana.

At the other end of the table, Amana found herself beside Sir Reinhart as she went to fill his cup. He had removed his armor, and now dined in a somewhat simplistic belted tunic which he wore over a basic cloth shirt. He had rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, and his hands were callused and his forearms thick. He was not overly bulky, but his strength was easily apparent. Amana could see the outline of the muscles in his arms and shoulders beneath the thin sleeves of his shirt. A handsome visage and a body such as this. It's hard to deny that I would like very much like to fall into his arms right now. As she filled his cup, the knight glanced up at her. When he eyes lingered on Amana's face she panicked and moved back. "My lord?" She asked shyly. She could feel her face growing warm. "Have I done something wrong?"

Sir Reinhart looked at her curiously. "You have not. Might I ask your name, girl?" His voice was deep, but not harsh.

"Amana, my lord," she said softly. Baron Hyward was watching as well, and that frightened her immensely.

Sir Reinhart leaned back in his chair. "Amana. A beautiful name, for a beautiful girl," he proclaimed. Although he spoke sweetly, his words were distant. The knight looked down at his cup, his thoughts seemingly elsewhere.

Amana had not expected that. "Your words are too kind, my lord," she replied. Was that an attempt at charming me? or is he genuinely a kind man? As she stood nervously, the baron shot a look at Amana that told her she had lingered for too long. With a bow, she turned and hurried away towards the kitchen.

Once she was away from the lords and knights, Amana felt she could breathe a little easier. What an overwhelming day this has grown into. She did her best to remain out of the dining hall for the rest of the meal, hoping to avoid anything that might put her in a precarious situation. Once the feast was finished, many among the gathering quickly dispersed. The town officials returned to their stations and the men of Sir Reinhart's party retired to their quarters. Aside from the guest of honor, another knight among the group had been given a chamber within the manor itself, while the rest were given spare rooms in the servants' quarters. Thankfully for Amana, she was not one of the servants who had to remain in the dining hall to clean up the mess that had been made. While Mildred was busy directing the cleanup, she made her way out into the yard in search of Lloyd.

Amana spied him near the stable, leaning up against a wall. She stormed over to him, her head pounding from stress and lack of sleep. "I can do this no longer, Lloyd. I should have fled by now!" Her voice was loud and quivered with alarm.

"Amana!" Lloyd replied in a hushed voice. He reached out to grab her but stopped himself abruptly. "You must calm down. And lower your voice."

She brought both hands to her head in despair. "I have reached my limit. My own shadow frightens me. The steward must know of my deception."

"That can't be. My uncle still hasn't brought any of his records to the manor. Sir Reinhart's arrival was earlier than anticipated," Lloyd explained. "And besides, why would they let you serve wine to the Knight of Belrose if you were suspected of possibly being an assassin?"

"You're wrong," Amana mumbled with a shake of her head. "I know something is amiss. I can feel it."

Lloyd took a pensive breath. "What happened in the dining hall? If you act strangely like that near Sir Reinhart you will appear suspect, of that I have no doubt."

"What?" Amana gasped. "Nothing happened. He asked my name, and I told him. That was all."

"Well, from where I was seated it looked like you were gawking at him. That displeased the baron, didn't it?" He asked rhetorically. "You should still have a few days before the steward learns of your history. And it may be even longer now that Sir Reinhart is here."

"Help me, Lloyd," she begged. "Please."

"I tried to offer my help last night," Lloyd replied in frustration. "I thought you had decided to tell the tru-, to tell them you were a princess. Has your mind already changed?"

Amana slumped her shoulders. "I don't know what to do. I no longer want to lie, but I am afraid. The truth will convince no one. I will tell them if I must, but I still hold on to hope that it will not come to that."

"Let me tell you what you need to know of Sargotha, so that you might continue on as you are. Instead of trying to bring the ship into port during times of tempestuous weather, simply keep it afloat as you have been. Once the storm has settled, then you can make your move. That is the only help I can offer you," he pleaded.

"But what if that isn't enough? And what if there isn't time?" Amana could feel the walls closing in around her.

"I'll admit that the situation is far from ideal, but this is the best option you have. Between my uncle, and my friendship with Kamon, I have enough sway that I can turn things in your favor," Lloyd assured.

Amana bristled at Kamon's name. "Kamon. He slipped and fell in the water I spilt this morning."

Lloyd gave a look of shock, but then burst into a fit of laughter. "How comical. If only I could have been there to see it."

"It wasn't funny. He hates me now, and I'm sure he would be glad to see me gone," she mused.

"it's going to be okay, Amana. let's meet tonight," Lloyd suggested. "I'll prepare your first lesson on Sargotha. It's subjugation by Trilea centuries ago, what daily life is like there, and its recent return to an independent kingdom. It won't take long for you to fit the part of someone born in those lands."

Amana pondered for a moment. Nothing is ever free, and it's easy to know what Lloyd will want in return. "Your offer is generous. And in exchange for your help, I suppose you'll want to take me into your bed?"

Lloyd wrinkled his brow. "My bed?" Amana tilted her head expectedly. "Oh," he blurted out. His face turned bright red, and he let out a choked cough. After he had regained his composure, he spoke delicately. "I cannot deny that I-, you are-," He paused again, and his expression turned serious. "No, that would be wrong of me. I am far from perfect, and I admit that I have thought about moments like this a great deal, but that would be beyond cruel. There are terrible men in this world, but I do not wish to be counted among them. I ask for nothing in return. Whatever you may be, Amana, right now you are someone I can help."

For the first time in a long while, Amana was speechless. You have a gentle heart. I will repay my debt to you someday, Lloyd. "Thank you," she said before leaning forward and giving him a kiss on the cheek.