On the surface, it was a logical choice.

If they didn’t intend to create a new Dukedom and appoint a new title, there were only two dukes close enough to the old Lycan border to choose from. Waghorn was also one of the Crown Prince’s best supporters.

And a micromanager.

Flint didn’t know what he’d done to earn the Crown Prince’s ire, but he’d felt before that Thiago was keeping a strict eye on him.

So the politics continue.

Flint bowed his head in acknowledgement.

“He is a wise choice, your highness. I look forward to working for him.”

The door closed with a bang. Then sluggishly opened again by itself. The door was too damaged to stay closed without extra wiggling. Flint calmly crossed the room and lifted the door a fraction to close it.

It clicked.

Then Flint’s face twisted in an uncharacteristic snarl.

***

Em watched from the sidelines as Prince trained.

She knew any moment she’d wake up and be whisked away from this place. She also knew that technically she didn’t need to keep her distance. Their weapons would go right through her if she got too close.

Still, it was a psychological thing. Stay away from the sharp, shiny objects flying around at what seemed like warp speeds.

For the sixth time, the sword was smashed right out of Prince’s hands and it skidded across the court.

This time close to Em.

Prince hid his limp well as he went to retrieve the weapon. Sweat soaking his hair and dripping down his back. Em glanced at a small water barrel at the end of her bench. Wishing she could toss it into his face and remind him to drink.

Heat and exertion could be dangerous without enough water.

“What happened to the strength you showed me the first time we dueled?”

Prince’s sparring partner propped himself on his own weapon. Scowling thoughtfully as Prince picked up his sword.

He was a giant man. Unfairly huge next to Prince’s small, still on the child side stature. Though Em had noticed Prince had grown by a couple of inches in the last few weeks and his frame was now filling out.

Thank the gods!

“I would have died in that match if I’d given in,” Prince retorted. Though Em thought she saw some other grim emotion flit through his eyes before he turned back to the big man. “And I think you were going easy on me, mister Beastman.”

The man waved his hand in annoyance.

“I’ve told you before boy, just Beast.”

The man picked up a pair of spectacles hanging from his neck and perched them on his nose. Then he waved for Prince to join him.

“Get into your ready stance. Yes, that’s it. Hmm, your stance is too narrow. Try this and hold your wrists like this.”

Em watched as Beastman corrected Prince’s stance and hold, leaning forward.

Since she wasn’t right next to Prince, her view of the room was blackened at the corners. So she wasn’t prepared for when the woman Zaria suddenly stepped out of the blackness and approached them.

“You’re not a fair opponent, Beast.” She hefted her own weapon, flashing a smile. “Give me a chance.”

“No.”

“The boy will learn more from me.”

“And you might take out your competition before entering the ring.”

“Ah.” She batted her eyelids at him. “You don’t trust me?”

“I know you.”

“It’s fine.” Prince held up a hand to get the adults’ attention. “On one condition.”

“Yes?” Zaria smiled. Now turning her eyelashes on Prince.

Em scowled at her and stood up. Moving closer so she didn’t miss anything.

“If I win, you’ll stop poisoning my food and fight me squarely.”

Beastman made an angry sound as he turned his furious look on the woman. She didn’t so much as flinch under that glare. Em also glared at her, but that was just as effective.

“And if I win?”

Prince smiled grimly. “I imagine I’ll be injured, increasing your chances tomorrow. Do you need anything else?”

She threw back her head in a guffaw.

“I suppose not! Very well, I agree to the terms.” She took a step back and dropped into a ready position. Grinning nastily. “Ready, child?”

Beastman leaned down and hissed close to her ear, “If you kill him, Zaria, I’ll make sure you die in our next bout.”

Without looking at him, she nodded. Keeping her eyes fixed on Prince.

Prince might have been much too small to face Beastman, but he was nearly as tall as the slight Zaria and her equal in strength. Perhaps stronger. So, the match started with the two of them nearly matching each other at every turn.

Em paced at the edge of the match. Anxious. Not sure she’d be there if something went wrong, but ready to jump in if Prince needed her.

Soon, it became apparent that Zaria was faster.

She pushed Prince back, her movements so quick he barely had time to block her. Again and again and again.

She’d almost pushed him to the benches when Em blinked.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

That’s what it felt like, anyway.

Prince twisted his sword in a swift pattern, too fast to see properly. And suddenly, Zaria went from aggressively winning… to her weapon cracking and sliding several feet away.

Prince pointed his blade tip at Zaria’s throat and the room fell into silence. The silence was loud compared to the metallic clanks of a second ago.

“How… in the hell…?!”

Zaria sputtered as she looked between Prince and her weapon.

“I win.”

“I can see that!” Zaria shouted. “How?! I’ve never seen a move like that.”

Prince smiled and lowered his sword. He didn’t answer.

“Gray!”

“Enough, Zaria.” Beastman patted her on the head, earning himself a scowl as he beamed at Prince. “That was impressive, boy.”

Prince bowed his head in acknowledgement.

“Keep it under your belt. It may save your life one day. Zaria, remember the deal-”

“Show me,” Zaria demanded. “Show me again, damn it!”

“I’m not that dumb.”

Prince turned away and stalked to the bench. Finally reaching for the water barrel.

Em blinked, nearly tumbling off the carriage bench when the carriage came to an abrupt halt. Sleepily, she rubbed her eyes and looked up at Tracy. Who was also waking up from a doze.

With a feeling of déjà vu, Em rolled off the bench and onto the opposite bench to stick her head out of the window.

“Is this the reeve?” she asked Tracy.

Who shrugged as she also moved to look.

The door opened, and a knight bowed. “May I help you down, my lady?”

Em took his hand and eagerly hopped out of the carriage.

The reeve house and its adjacent buildings were big, but not as big as the castle. However, there were more people around. Half of them were in some sort of uniform, both as guards and as servants.

Em studied them as she waited to be told what to do.

“Now, this is more like it!”

The Crown Prince swung out of his saddle. Beaming.

“Really, Grimshaw. If you can achieve this in one place, you ought to do it everywhere else. This reeve is marvelous compared to the other dumps.”

Flint grunted and swung down from his horse. He met Em’s eye briefly, scanning her over to make sure she was alright, then turned back to the happy Thiago.

“I sent word ahead, so there should be rooms prepared.”

Em looked around again as Tracy talked to the servants, telling them where each of the bags lashed to the carriage were to go.

Now that she’d met Todd, seen the gardeners regularly, and gone to a reeve, she felt confident she could pick out the Lycans. Even if they weren’t the ones with their heads ducked and trying to remain unnoticed.

There were a lot of them here.

“Em.”

With a flinch of surprise, she quickly returned her attention to the ‘important people’ and ran to catch up.

Slipping her hand into Flint’s.

Pleased when he acted like she’d done nothing strange. He’s getting used to it, she thought smugly as she followed them inside.

“Next time I visit,” the Crown Prince was saying, “I expect the March castle to be at least this grand.”

“I will do my best, your highness.”

While the adults talked endlessly about the surroundings (which Em found annoying), she noticed someone peeking out a doorway in the foyer. That door must’ve led to a reception room of some sort.

He wasn’t there long before jerking back out of sight.

Em glanced up at Flint. He was still clenching her hand and politely trying to change the subject.

“Flint?”

“... Yes, your highness. I will look into tapestries…”

She tugged. “Flint?”

“Emmaline Grimshaw.”

She flinched and looked up into the Crown Prince’s eyes.

“It’s rude to interrupt a conversation with the royal family.”

Ice couldn’t have frozen the world more than those words and his tone. They swept with a chill over the room, catching everyone in its web.

Em instinctively stepped closer to Flint. Holding his hand harder.

“Children aren’t meant to be cooped up in a carriage for days.”

Madeline abruptly stepped between Em and that icy glare. Deftly, she pulled Em’s hand out of Flint’s grasp and wrapped her fingers warmly around Em’s small ones.

“Come, little one. Let’s leave the men to their work. I’m dying to see my room and take a nap.”

“Madeline-”

She blew a kiss at Thiago’s scowl but marched determinedly away. Dragging Em with her.

“Doesn’t he scare you?”

They were barely out of hearing range when Em couldn’t take it anymore. She blurted it out without thinking.

“Yes. And if I were you, I’d say nothing in his presence.”

“Even if I pee on the floor?”

Madeline stopped walking so abruptly that Em ran into her. The woman recovered quickly and roared with laughter. Em scowled.

She didn’t think it was funny.

The Crown Princess dropped to one knee, her grin turning into something soft but grim as she pushed hair behind Em’s ear.

“Yes. He may remember you with distaste, but it’s better to make yourself an object of disdain rather than of interest. Do you understand?”

Em nodded.

“You.” Madeline waved at a hovering maid. “Take Lady Emmaline somewhere she can relieve herself. And send someone to lead me to my room.”

“Y-yes, ma-ma’am,” the woman stuttered.

Em looked back once. Unsure how to interpret the look on Lady Madeline’s face as she watched Em leave.

There was more in her expression, but the only thing Em recognized was sadness.

The maid took Em to her temporary room, which was bigger and fancier than her own rooms back at Silver Vale castle. Closer to what she’d been used to in the barony. Once she was done ‘relieving herself’ she plotted.

How to explore without all the servants hovering over her?

More importantly, how to find that man she’d seen earlier?

“Loki?” she whispered. “Did you follow me?”

“Of course I did.”

The slime slid out of her bag, which she’d carelessly flung onto the bed. And which had had nothing but a book, a notebook, and a pencil only a few minutes ago.

Em grinned.

He was supposed to be in a crate back at the knights’ quarters. Of course he left. They were probably wondering how the heck he got out.

She held out a hand to him. “Want to cause some mischief?”

Over the course of Thiago’s visit, she’d discovered that the trick for getting Loki’s cooperation was to turn everything into a game.

And sneaking around was totally up Loki’s alley.

Whenever they saw a servant who might cause them trouble, they had a quick whispered conversation about how best to handle the situation.

Mop buckets spilled, people tripped, and Loki threw his voice to call their names around corners so they’d leave to investigate.

It was actually a lot more fun than Em wanted to admit.

“What are we looking for?”

He was talking in her head. Probably to avoid breaking character. She pulled him out of her pocket and put him on her shoulder.

“I saw someone earlier. I want to talk to him.”

“Who?”

Em told him the story about Laisha and her daddy in a whisper. Looking around the next corner.

“Why did you stop them? Sounds like she needed a good telling off.”

Em shot him a glare.

“Are you one of those bad people who like causing pain?”