Elise had to hold back the bile in her stomach from watching the scene before her, as much as she wished she could look away she had to watch the reality. It only affirmed what she and Lady Cheldarine had spoken about and that enemies would be everywhere she turned, though she couldn’t discern if this had been meant for her also it still left a foul taste in her mouth. Not once had she seen someone die in such a gruesome manner and seeing the serving boy die had resurfaced a repressed memory of her own.

It took all her strength not to hurl her guts as the image of her dead younger brother crossed her mind, remembering how she had been defiant pushing past the guards and her elder brother to see what the commotion was. Instantly she had regretted the decision as for many nights after she had nightmares surrounding it and even to this day it came back to haunt her on occasion. To see her younger brother sprawled on the bed skin ghostly white, blue tinging his lips and fingers adorned by red blood splatters. Crimson stained sheets from the usual bright white they were. To remember the haunted look of horror on her young brothers face as her eyes looked over the wounds, a deep slice across his throat and smaller ones on his wrists and then feet. The younger Prince had bled out and no one had heard anything, no scream and no signs of fight meaning the coward that had done the deed had done so whilst the Prince slept deeply. It had later been found there was a sleeping aid in his drink so he wouldn’t have stirred at the attack.

So, caught up in her own whirlwind of horror Elise didn’t pay any sort of attention to Ozragad and Manawyndans conversation until she heard the shut of the door leaving her alone with him. Panicked for a split second she whirled around to look at Ozragad as he returned to his seat at the table, silence forming between them as she couldn’t find any sort of words to say and it seemed he couldn’t either.

Elise didn’t dare move from the spot she was standing, using the table to keep herself steady fearing that her own legs would fail her and crumble beneath the pressure. A shaky breath escaped her lips, one that she didn’t realise she had been holding as she slowly gained the courage to move back to her seat the whole way using the table to lean on as she lowered herself into the chair glad to have the support of the wood beneath her.

“I understand.” Clearing her throat to try and sound confident and not show how unsettled she had been from this incident; it had dredged up memories she wished to be kept buried. “I’ll take it as a compliment that he thinks I could orchestrate such a thing under your watchful gaze.” Trying to settle she knew the comfort she needed would not be gained here, but she was not looking forward to the nights to come knowing the nightmares would resurface and that was a vulnerability she wanted no one to know about.

“Why? Why did you choose to save me?”

Why had she saved him? Pausing as she thought on how to answer him because she didn’t know herself, it could have been down to instinct. It could have been because she knew her survival depended on his own, or maybe she was warming to the idea of marriage. It could have even been because peace was sorely needed in their lands and the blood that had been spilled was more than enough to last a lifetime.

“I don’t know in all honesty.” Elise folded her arms as her brow furrowed trying to piece together her own scattered thoughts, “Poison is cowardly.” Muttering out her distaste for the substance until she found herself sighing again cringing at how he assumed she despised him and the palace. It wasn’t true, she despised that her freedom had been taken, that her father had forced this on her which she had channelled through onto Ozragad when it wasn’t his fault she had been put in this position.

“I don’t despise you or this place maybe some of your actions. It’s actually beautiful here in its own way. I despise the fact my freedom was taken from me because I was born a certain gender. That as a woman you can’t fight. If I had allowed you to drink that poison than you’d have died. Maybe I could have had a chance at my freedom, but that wouldn’t be the case.”

Elise stopped for a moment placing her head in her hands on the table finally admitting to herself something she very much knew, and something Lady Cheldarine had also reminded her of as she was honest with him. “My life is very much in your hands, it’s dependant on you being alive because you are the only thing stopping those that wish to tear me apart because of my heritage. I have a handful of men and they’d be crushed in a heartbeat leaving me to deal with whatever horrors my enemies wish me to live, I wouldn’t be able to make it out of here and if by some miracle I did I would not be able to navigate your lands or go unrecognised for that matter.” Lifting her head up slightly to meet his gaze she could feel her own mental exhaustion of this place creeping in.

“We came to an agreement. I will uphold my side of it.”

"Ah yes, self preservation, of course." The King nodded slowly as he spoke, as if he were agreeing with her, but he did not return her gaze. Instead Ozragad looked at his hand, the one still spotted with blood. The flecks were smeared now, he had wiped some of it against his face when he had unbound his hair, leaving faint ruddy streaks against his ashen complexion. "You see things clearly, Princess, we are in the same boat now, for better or worse. I will uphold my end also. Your privileges are restored to you, you and your people are free to roam the palace as you wish."

Ozragad summoned the guards posted outside the doors and relayed his commands to them to remove the restrictions on the Princess's household. With a sidelong look at her, he added: "Please escort Her Highness back to her chambers. It is has been an eventful morning, she should rest." The words were not unkind, but there was a firmness to them. He wanted her gone. He wanted to be alone.

---

After she had left he let himself feel like the fool he was. How had he let himself believe for a second there that there was some deeper reason as to why the Princess had saved his life? For a moment there he had almost though she cared for him for some unbelievable inexplicable reason. Gods no, of course not, you are a monster to her. Do not forget it. You are a fool to think otherwise.

What was stranger still is why he should even care why she saved him, surely it not matter to him what this Eorzian Princess felt? He was using her as means to an end, and she merely did the same thing. He wanted her lands, she wanted to stay alive. There need not be any deeper emotion behind their marriage and her saving him. And yet...

You wanted there to be. You fucking weakling.

With a roar Ozragad rose from his chair, knocking it over as he did so. With one fist he swept the debris from the table, sending it crashing to the floor. Loose papers went flying, an inkpot smashed against the stones, the circlet he had been wearing bounced away, until it rolled to a stop at the foot of a statue.

See, you are weak.

Yes he had wanted her to say something else. That she had come to care for him, despite how he had treated her. Was it so ridiculous? She was beautiful woman, even if she was an Eorzian, he was not blind to that. And she was to be his wife either way, he had only known one other before, and there... there had been such feelings there before. Why would he not want that again? When she had taken his hand before as he had looked into her eyes, he had felt something flutter, something stir in his chest, for the first time in a long, long while. Was it so unreasonable to think she might have felt the same, to want her to felt the same? Was that wrong?

You don't want the Princess. You just want someone to replace her, Liveuta.

"IS THAT SO FUCKING WRONG?!" Ozragad roared to himself in the empty hall. The words echoed back to him as they bounced up into the shadowy recesses amongst the many watching statues. There was no other reply.

Ozragad sighed to himself, the anger and tension deflating from him as he did so. He felt like a wreck. This whole thing, the entire plan of the marriage, and everything that had happened since just kept opening old wounds within him. Things he had tried to put away, forget about, repress, destroy. He disliked what it was doing to him, the way it continually threw him off balance, like the rolling deck of ship in a great and terrible storm. His life had been easier as a callous warlord, when all he had to think about was how to destroy his enemies. Back then all he had felt was rage.

Not that he did not feel rage now... but it was more complicated, he supposed.

He walked over to where the circlet had rolled to when he had knocked it from the table. It sat beneath the plinth of a statue. As Ozragad bent down to pick it up he caught sight of the name inscribed there - Queen Cyrridven of the House of Gwydion. Mother. He looked up at the marble face that gazed down at him. There was a surely a likeness between the woman he had known and loved and the cold stone figure that stood there still, the statue had been made not long after her death, but it had been so long Ozragad could not say for sure himself.

Queen Cyrridven had died unexpected, suddenly even, at time of turmoil within the Kingdom. In that time the lords of the western marches had been angry that Cirith Anyr had not been taking a more active role in the defence of their lands against border raids launched by Eorzian lords. After his mother had died, his father had assumed the regency, Ozragad had still been a child in the reckoning of the Formori when he first became King. One of the first things his father had done as regent was march off to put down the rebellion. He did not return from battle.

There had always been whispers about the unnatural nature of his mother's death. It had certainly suited those rebellious Lords. But there had been other rumours too, it was known the Queen and her consort, his parents, did not have a happy marriage. The speed with which his father had assumed power, his lack of grief, some had said his wife's death had suited him even more. Then there were faithless councillors who had tried to gain power after the death of his father, they had certainly benefitted too. Poison. A coward's weapon.

Ozragad studied the crown in his hand. He had accidently wiped some blood on it when he had removed it earlier. He frowned at that, it was an ill omen. He carried the circlet over the council table, there was still the pitcher of water upon it. Carefully he wet his fingers and wiped the bloody stain from the gold.

As he did so his eyes roved over the table. Eventually they came to settle on the glass that Manawyndan had been drinking out of, it was still full. Water. Not wine. But no... he trusted Manawyndan with his life did he not? He could not suspect his oldest, most faithful councillor, surely? And yet...

He glanced at where the Princess had been sitting and saw the overturned goblet. His eyes narrowed. She spilled her own cup... convenient. Perhaps Manawyndan's suspicions were not baseless. She had made it clear herself, she was doing whatever she needed to survive. Would that go as far as killing him? It was not in her interest now... but would that always be the case?

The King placed the circlet back on his head. Rebel lords, faithless councillors, and murderous spouses. It had to be one of them.

Self-preservation? Is that really why I did it? Elise thought to herself thinking how cold that sounded, selfish almost that the only reason she had saved him was because of the need to preserve her own life. It was partly true, but yet did she believe it fully that her sole purpose to save him was for that. Of course, she had admitted it and she hated that she had, but yet there seemed to be something more to it that even she was yet to admit to herself.

Should I say thank you? It seems polite. Pushing a lock of her loose hair behind her ear she glanced to him again, “Thank you.” Politely nodding alongside it as she considered his phrase for better or worse, it seemed comically as that was part of the usual wedding vows, but it was fitting. They were stuck with one another for better or worse as he so put it.

Do I look bad? Is he insinuating that I haven’t been resting? Does he know? She couldn’t help but worry for a moment that he somehow knew that she had not been doing well since being locked away in her tower, though as she thought about it her ladies in waiting would have reported anything to him. That and she figured he would have noticed the dark circles under her eyes from the many sleepless nights here, something she was trying to get accustomed too. Rising to her feet she felt unsteady inside, but she kept composure as if nothing was wrong, “Farewell.” Speaking on polite terms as she left the chambers to return to her rooms keeping up appearances with her head held high as she paced back to her room not letting on to anyone that she was anything but fine.

-----

Sending everyone away from her room as she returned, she allowed everything to sink in, she couldn’t hold it anymore as the unsettled stomach and bile she felt overpowered her, and she rushed to the adorning bathroom to empty the contents of her stomach. Heaving as her skin clammed up, she dropped the façade she had put on whilst around the others as the fear washed over her with the sight of the dead body now imprinted on her mind forcing her to compare it against her younger brothers. Athos. A repressed memory that she never thought would resurface. Feeling her arms tremble as she knelt against the cool wall Elise let out a shaky breath wiping her brow letting out all the emotions now she was safely behind closed doors and had sent her ladies away.

Pulling her knees up to her chest she wrapped her arms around her legs burying her head into her knees as she let the wave of sickness pass her, not daring to move just yet knowing she was quite unsteady. Although she had her freedom to roam, she didn’t feel like leaving her room anymore, the idea of being trapped inside feeling like a much safer option even though she hated being caged. Weak. I’m so weak. Reprimanding herself for the mess she was currently in, barely rested and hurling her guts at the sight of his death? Pathetic.

Closing her eyes, she took a few minutes to herself letting the silence of her room envelope her, darkness becoming her friend as she tried to push back the memories of her younger brother and the brutal scene before her. It was as if she could still feel the blood on her fingertips and they were forever stained with his blood as she remembered how she tried to shake him awake, everyone was just standing around him and not helping. All of them silently watching her as she cried at them to help him. Why now. Why did I have to remember this now, surrounded by enemies.

Elise knew that her servants reported on her movements and she was certain that by now they all knew of her sleeping patterns, her distress. Maybe even the nightmares she had tried to conceal, and she knew they would come back tonight, she knew it would be a mix of her dead brother and the poisoned server. Curling her hand into a fist angered by the fact they all knew about her private affairs.

“Your highness.”

Hearing the knock at the door she recognised it to be Floras voice one of her ladies in waiting that Ozragad had assigned to her she cringed not ready to face anyone let alone her ladies that spied on her day in and out.

“Is everything okay?”

“Fine. I’m fine.” Her hoarse voice spoke up from her position on the bathroom floor hoping that Flora would just leave her be and not probe anymore. Elise could sense the hesitation, the woman knew the lies that spewed from her mouth, but she couldn’t question it if she had stated she was fine.

“Forgive the intrusion, but I have had the bed heated and a fresh cup of hot tea placed at your bedside. It should help you rest.” Flora spoke softly through the door listening out for any movement, but she didn’t catch it, or a response to what she had done. Turning on her heel she bid the Princess a farewell giving her space to rest, whispers had already spread like wildfire about the events of this morning and most if not, all people knew about the poison laced cup.

It was only when Elise had heard the closing of the door did, she pick herself up from the floor and move into her room seeing the fresh cup of tea as expected. Sighing she hated to do it, but maybe rest was good for now. Not even bothering to change from her simple dress she slipped beneath the covers feeling the inviting warmth as she closed her eyes, not even daring to drink the tea because of what had happened earlier she closed her eyes trying to find some inner peace to allow her to sleep already dreading the idea of nightmares disturbing her.

---

---

---

---

Precautions had been taken in the aftermath of the assassination attempt. In the week that had followed, Ozragad's every drink and every meal had been tasted before he consumed any of it. There were guards posted in the kitchens now, others were assigned to watch his meals as they were taken up from below, so none might tamper with them as they were brought to the King's table. It was inconvenient, and it was infuriating that he even had to resort to such measures, when once he would have counted on the loyalty of those who served him.

Those were not the only changes Ozragad had made since then. He was getting up earlier each day, making more time in the exercise yards to practice at his swordplay. He would train with blunted weapons against trusted and skilled men. Sometimes one on one, sometimes against up to three of them. If poison had already failed his assassins, who knew what they might try next? But Ozragad would make himself as ready as he could be. He would be ready to fight them when they came for him.

The morning of the first of Manawyndan's planned betrothal events was no exception. Ozragad had awoke before dawn and went at his sparring. He had them push him harder than usual, not stopping until he was short of breath, and aching with soon to be bruises. The rush of adrenaline, even the pain, was probably preferable to the farce he go through today. But he was resigned to it now, this was to be a show marriage after all, he should give his people their show.

After he had finished at the training yards, Ozragad bathed and changed into his costume for the day. For the most part they were practical, dark hunting leathers, though far finer than he would ever normally bother to wear when he knew he was going to get covered in mud and blood. The most theatrical element of it was a furred cloak, cut from the skin of a great spotted mountain cat, draped over one shoulder. They are trying to bring out your predatory side. He made sure his hair was securely tied back, and forwent any jewels beside his plain golden circlet. Rings, chains and their ilk only got in the way when riding over rough ground and handling a bow.

Underneath it all though, against his skin, he wore a fine mail shirt. Do not forget, someone wants you dead.

The hunting party were gathering in the great open square in the lower ward of the palace, where they would then process through the upper city, before leaving through the north gate to the King's hunting parks beyond. By the time Ozragad came down to meet them, almost all had assembled in readiness. As he emerged from the palace and marched down the stairs, flanked by his personal guard, he surveyed the bowing and kneeling figures.

The Princess would be somewhere among them.

After all, she had to be there to receive his bounty of his hunt. There were two sides of this piece of theatre. The valiant hunter proving himself and the gracious hostess to seem his gift. Only she was the stranger here, and he was by no means valiant.

A thought crossed his mind then, did she even ride? She had been brought to Morganyth in a carriage, and up into the palace in a covered palaquin. He had never seen her ride, never asked her if she did. Did women even ride in Eorzia? Or was that forbidden to them too? Perhaps if had been less preoccupied with other matters he would have looked into these arrangements himself, but no, someone wanted him dead. So he had left it Manawyndan, like he always did when it was a task he did not wish to oversee himself.

Perhaps its Manawyndan that wants you dead. Perhaps its your new Princess.

Push those thoughts away. Put on a magnanimous face. Go down and greet all the sycophants. But do not forget, someone wanted him dead.

In the week that had passed Elise could safely say that a good night’s rest had eluded her once again, unable to get more than a couple of hours at a time she struggled to remove the images from her mind as nights passed. Memories ranging from the past with her brother to the server Ozragad had forced to drink the poison both permanently stained into her mind. It felt like her hands would never be clean, blood staining them and no matter how much she scrubbed she couldn’t remove the feeling of the warmth on her fingertips, the blood she had once touched. Even eating had become a chore for her as she found it hard to swallow anything solid and keep it down for a few hours before the haunting had resumed and the ability to keep food down whilst vivid imagery graced her mind became difficult.

Elise had done her best to keep this a secret, not wanting any of it to go back to the King as she kept the simple façade of happiness. Whether or not her ladies had caught on to her nightmares and lack of eating they didn’t make it known which she was thankful for, even if it was all starting to catch up again. Freedom to leave her section had now been granted, but she didn’t roam far keeping to her rooms for the most part because the idea of leaving played about with her anxiety that someone was ready to strike her down.

At times when she felt daring, she could be found in the library using the books to read as an escape and a good source of focus for her mind away from all the bloodshed. With her tired form and lack of energy she had even fallen asleep in one of the chairs in the library only to wake up at any little sound still on edge from the incident. Elise could feel the tension as the days passed, but things seemed to settle again and there was a buzz about the castle as Manawydan had started to prepare the great hunt that was a premarital tradition.

After having kept to herself for most of the week she hadn’t seen Ozragad from their last discussion where her vulnerable side had shown, it was a blessing because she didn’t know what she would have to say to him. Not after the assassination attempt and that fact that she had and probably still was suspected to have had a hand in it. Elise couldn’t blame them for the accusation or suspension for that matter because if she had been in their shoes, had she nearly been killed her first thought would go to the King wondering if he wanted her gone.

Atarah had the good sense to plan a beautiful gown for the hunt, something of Formori culture to help gain favour with his people. It was another fine gown with a deep rich colour rather than the pale blues and purples she would wear back home, this gown had a golden lace and trim and she could feel Atarah having to tighten it up more than she usually would on other outfits. Thankfully the woman didn’t even speak about it and had just gotten her ready for the day curling her hair and letting it fall down naturally as she wove in a golden circlet atop her head. Once dressed for the day Atarah handed her a fur trimmed shawl to keep her warm if the temperature had dropped as they would be outside for the hunt itself most of the day and she was pleased to know Atarah would be with her throughout to help with names and information to help with small talk.

Already Elise felt tired, and the day had yet to begin, playing an act as if everything was okay took a lot of energy and with her lack of sleep, she knew she would have to be careful and not snap at those around her. It was why she had said to Treville to just watch her from afar because hearing his constant disappointment in her actions and how she should present herself would only infuriate her. They were all outside currently waiting for the King to arrive and Atarah had informed her of the horse she would be riding and was talking through the day with her only to stop as silence fell across everyone signalling his arrival.

Following suit, she bowed alongside the others not even playing the game and daring to bow as little as she could get away with, no she was too tired to play and just bowed like she normally would not caring about it in the slightest. There were bigger priorities on her mind right now, the thought of staying alive amongst this pack of wolves that wouldn’t hesitate to cut her down.

You can do this, it’s just another day. Another event and once it is over, I can return to the peace of my room. But… what if a stray arrow shoots me whilst out here?

Ozragad caught sight of her as he reached the bottom of the stairs. The Princess was bowing deeply, much like his own subjects, surrounded by a knot of the ladies he had placed to serve (and spy on) her. He had half expected some kind of scene, a continuation of the game of mutual hostilities and disrespects their relationship had largely been up until this point. But there was none. Perhaps they were past all that now, with their new arrangement... and all else that had happened since.

Strange, how he looked back on their bitter arguments with almost an element of fondness now. It felt like a different time, simpler, less dangerous. Less dangerous for you maybe. It was always dangerous for her, after all, it was you she was fighting with. You almost strangled her. Ozragad winced at the memory of her delicate throat under his hands. But it was true, she had always been in danger in Morganyth, from himself as well as others. He was still a danger to her, after all, it could still be her who had tried to kill him. She had plenty of motive. And what will you do then?

As the crowd parted for him, Ozragad could see that the grooms and stable hands were bringing the horses up, ready for their riders to mount. There was an order of precedence to the whole thing, he would mount first, followed by next in precedence and so on and so on. The next highest ranked person here would be the Princess herself, being a fellow royal, albeit a foreign one. The King could see his own tall black stallion drawn up across the ward, but next to it there was another horse saddled and ready.

He could tell from here that it was a magnificent creature. The palace stables at Cirith Anyr kept some of the finest horseflesh in all the country, even before he had needed to mount and outfit so many warriors for his armies. They bred for speed, rather than size, and he could see by its build it would fast. She was a filly still, just on the cusp of being considered a mare. Her coat was palomino, a pale cream, with flowing mane and tail of pure white. He did not know her by sight, but a horse so fine must have come from his personal collection, and there was only one person it could have been brought here for.

This was a mount fit for a Princess.

Normally he would have marched on past his bowing courtiers and got on horseback as quickly as possible in order to get the assembled court moving, Ozragad hated waiting. But now he paused at the foot of the stairs. This was supposed to be political theatre was it not? Then he would give them some theatre to talk about. He turned and walked to where the Princess still knelt, planting himself directly in front of her. He proffered a hand to her.

"Your mount awaits you, Princess."

Which one will attempt to cut me down? Elise couldn’t help but think like that as she held the bow waiting to arise to her full height alongside the others. It would be easy to make it look like a riding accident. Maybe this hunt has been designed by the King himself to finally finish the deed. He hadn’t hesitated in strangling her in the library a memory that often crossed her mind and she had scolded herself for not fighting as she used too, just letting herself go through the motions all to keep herself alive. It wasn’t right, but then actively fighting him hadn’t been the way to go either as she was certain he suspected her to have tried to poison him, which was absurd, especially if he knew the horrors she was currently facing when alone.

Is it worth losing myself?

Mulling over her inner thoughts she felt a pang in her stomach, a sharp pain reminding her of the missed breakfast that she couldn’t bear to stomach left on the bedside in her room no doubt been cleaned away already. Something she knew she would have to fix as what was the point in playing this careful game to keep herself alive if she was just going to let herself waste away like this. Hiding the discomfort on her face she glanced up when a shadow cast over her form to see Ozragad himself had approached her, but what surprised her was the outstretched hand to her of all people.

This is a show after all.

Reminding herself of that fact quickly as she graced him with a smile taking his hand as she rose to her feet happy to not be in that position anymore as she felt the release of pressure from her stomach. There was no room for hesitation right now, not if they were trying to have a somewhat united front against their enemies that seemingly lurked everywhere within the shadows.

“Your highness.” Speaking softly as she began to follow towards the horses that had been brought out before them, her own eyes looking at the black steed that she assumed to be his finding her gaze caught by the white mare beside it saddled and ready to go knowing that was the creature she would be riding today. It was certainly beautiful and reminded her of her own horse back home that she highly doubted she would ever ride again, like his horse the one she had back home had been black and in her own Kingdom she couldn’t remember ever seeing white mares and she knew she was excited to get to ride it.

Grasping his hand, it was only then she became conscious that her own was ice cold in his, in fact her whole body in general was cold which she knew was down to the lack of sleep as often when this happened to her, she would just grow cold finding it hard to keep her warmth. It wouldn’t have been an issue had he not offered his hand and she couldn’t very well refuse it in front of all these people and embarrass him. It would only cause more of a commotion around their wedding and arrangement.

Don’t draw attention to it.

“It seems like good weather for a hunt.” Keeping the pleasant smile on her face as she walked acting as if nothing was the matter and not letting on to anyone there was anything wrong, she approached the horses letting her hand drop from his the moment it became acceptable and not odd to the eyes of others. After all everyone was watching them, and she would not give them reason to gossip. Taking the reigns from one of the servers she thanked them politely as she gently reached up stroking the horse and allowing it to take in her scent to accept her, but the horse didn’t seem to be spooked by her at all which was a good sign.

I still can’t shake the feeling of another attack, what if they try again? It’s so open out here. I don’t exactly have anything to defend myself with and it would look awfully strange if I asked for it. Maybe even suspicious. Though she was facing an inner turmoil nothing gave any hint to it on her face as she glanced back to Ozragad waiting for him to mount his horse before she would get on her own for the hunt.

There was something different about her, Ozragad thought, as she took his hand and he led her to where their horses awaited their riders. He couldn't quite place his finger upon it. There was a listlessness to her perhaps, and the hand he held, it was cold in his grasp. It was nothing like when she had taken his hand before, in the council chamber. That sudden spark of connection, like electric current flowing between them, was completely absent.

Then she commented on the weather. Good weather? Good weather for hunt? Ozragad looked up to the small patch of sky that was visible in the shadowed cavernous depths that Cirith Anyr was set in. Yes, he supposed it was fine weather for a hunt. But who paid attention to the weather in a cave? He was sure of it then, there was definitely something off about the Eorzian Princess this day. His gaze scrutinised her even more closely than before. He made note of the shadows under her eyes. She was not sleeping well.

And why do you even pretend that you care?

But he had to care, somewhat at least. They had an agreement, an arrangement. She was to play her part, he was to play his. Today was most definitely part of that, a piece of political theatre to make their upcoming marriage and the peace it would bring to both their nations more palatable to his nobles and his people. That was the reason why he cared, there did not need to be anything personal about it.

"Yes, the weather, is certainly... nice." Ozragad replied flatly, before quietly sighing to himself, turning aside and mounting up. As soon as he did so there was a flurry of activity as the rest of the hunting party hurried to get on horseback themselves. One of the first to appear and trot his horse to take a place beside Ozragad was his trusted councillor, Manawyndan.

"I still have my reservations about this whole thing." The old Fomori began in al low tone, pausing to hack out a dry cough before he did so.

"Reservations? Last time I checked this was your idea, councillor."

"That was before the assassination attempt. I have increased our escort and have men already posted at the hunting grounds, but still we'll be out in the open, exposed. Someone may try again."

"Being inside the my Palace did not stop them last time. I doubt it will stop them again if they are determined." Ozragad did not know who or what to believe anymore. Manawayndan wanted him to take part in this foolish ritual, then he wanted him to stop because he feared assassins. And yet he thought his councillor could be one of the masterminds behind this plot, or it could be his betrothed, or it could be his former brother-in-law, Zakylwe Ahoraa. But what reason would Manawyndan have to remove him? Manawyndan wants peace, maybe he doubts your conviction to it, after all... you do.

The party was quickly gathered. There was The King, the Princess, her ladies, her guards. There were councillors like Manawyndan and Lord Iria and Lord Urathon. There were notable courtiers like Lady Cheldarine and her two sons, Elethiomel and Piebio. As well as assorted minor nobles, huntsmen and grooms in abundance. And finally, making up a large portion of the party, was the entirety of Ozragad's personal guard, led the fearsome female Formori with a shaven head, Captain Rhiathon. It was her who left one of the strongest impressions of all the hunting party, riding circles around the yard, barking orders as she whipped her troops into formation before they departed through the palace gates.

Beyond the streets of the upper city were busy with onlookers, but not as crowded as they had been when the Princess had first come to Cirith Anyr. While the crowd wasn't particularly hostile, there was a strong presence of city watchmen and guards posted on every street corner. They rode a different route than the one they had taken coming to palace, travelling along a street that snaked its way long up upper terraces rather than winding its way down to the lower city.

At the end of the street another dark tunnel disappeared into the side of the cavern wall, overlooked by battlements, murder holes, and secured by strong gates. These were thrown open upon the arrival of the royal entourage, and they proceeded into the darkness. After an indeterminate amount of time, pale daylight could be seen filtering in from the other end of tunnel, and they emerged blinking into a bright blustery morning.

The city's north gate was seldom used compared to the southern one, they did not open out onto any major roads or routes, but rather onto the tight valleys of barren grasslands and dark pine forests that made up the mountainous country that sprawled to the north of the city. There were farming villages and logging camps and quarries scratted around these lands, but little else, the only other thing the land was good for was hunting, and so a large portion of it was given over to the King's personal use.

As they continued down a stony track to camp prepared for their excursion, the party began to spread out. As they did so, Ozragad motioned for Princess to join his side. Sending whatever minor noble that had been talking his ear off thus far packing. When she drew near enough for them to speak without being overheard easily, he spoke.

"Does the fresh air agree with you? You did not seem yourself this morning. I hope it will not become a problem."

Elise busied herself with the beautiful horse she was about to ride, listening to all the people around her as chatter began to ensue from everyone now that Ozragad had mounted his horse. It started off a lot of movement around and she glanced towards one of her ladies who signalled for her to mount her own horse. As if forgetting for a moment she was here to be a part of this prewedding tradition she denied the help of one of the servers and got on the horse herself without need of help.

Of course, she could ride, she had been taught when she was a young girl back in the palace to ride a horse and often, she found herself enjoying the freedom of it until her father ordered that no one was allowed to ride further than the castle grounds which restricted a lot of her movement. Glancing behind her once mounted she could see Treville who had readied himself on the horse watching her keenly as if waiting for someone to dare attack her.

Everyone is on edge, I’m not surprised. Am I worried? No. Liar. Elise thought to herself as she gripped the reigns of her horse moving along with the crowd trying to ignore her earlier awkwardness when mentioning the weather to him. Caught in her own thoughts she missed the figure of her personal guard approaching her on horseback to lecture her.

“My lady, you need to keep your wits about you. This is so open. So… dangerous. Why ever did you agree to such traditions?” A low hurried whisper could be heard from Treville as he acted like he was having a normal conversation with the Princess.

“They want a show, this marriage is meant for peace is it not? This will only show that we have a united front amongst all our enemies and that we truly mean for this peace to work.” Elise cut him down quickly as she shot him a glance frowning at him clearly telling him to keep his opinions to himself.

“I… of course. I just do not wish to see harm befall you. Apologies your grace.” Treville mumbled as he shook his head muttering his disapproval as he fell back on his horse leaving Elise alone once more to continue riding with the group. Her ladies were riding just behind her and Elise couldn’t help but look out at the land, the people that were gathered for their union as she caught sight of all the guards ready and waiting for any sign of danger. It didn’t ease her worries seeing them there, in fact she was still under the belief that she could be killed at any moment.

Looking ahead as people began to fan out, she caught the Kings motion and obliged moving up beside him on her horse as she listened, inwardly cringing at how he had caught on and the choice was hers on whether she should be honest or not. “It should be no problem your highness, acting comes naturally to me.” Speaking softly letting him know that no matter what she was feeling no other would see it or be able to catch onto it, she was here to play her part as promised.

Sparing a glance around her ensuring no one was within earshot she decided to offer him a bit of truth to how she was, her ladies had glimpses and whether or not it was reported to him she didn’t know. “I have not been myself since the incident, it brought back memories I thought long forgotten.”

Is there any harm in telling him the truth?

“Lack of sleep feeds the paranoia; I can’t say I feel completely safe. It would not be hard for an accident to happen in the open. A stray arrow to strike me down and end the alliance with blame solely being on an accident whilst hunting.” Although she was discussing her fears of her impending death she did not flinch or let it show on her face, if anyone were to see it would only stir up rumours or conflicts and she was not about to let everyone know of such things.

“Perhaps a truth for a truth? Would you care to tell me what is on your mind currently?” Elise posed the question to him, perhaps it would be a way for them to bond and start some sort of connection for their marriage.

Would it really matter to know more about him? Perhaps it would make the marriage easier in the long run.

Ozragad listened as the Princess opened up to him. It... it had not been what had expecting. He had merely wanted reassurance that whatever it was that was troubling her was not going to get in the way of his planned piece of political propaganda. Instead she had bared her inner thoughts and fears to him. He did not know if he managed to keep the look of surprise from his face. But was it really so surprising, not her confiding in him, but that the stress and anxiety caused by the assassination attempt would be weighing heavily on her mind. So do you believe she is innocent now, or do you think this is just another ploy?

And then that question she asked him, what was on his mind? When was the last time he divulged his private thoughts to anyone other than Manawyndan? And to you even trust him enough to do that anymore? When was the last time he had an honest conversation without all the powerplays, the politics, the deception? He honestly could not say. Not for many, many years. Probably not truly since Liveuta had left him. Ah there you go, tell her that, tell her your are thinking about another woman. A better woman.

For a while they rode on in silence down the stony track, passing over a small brook that came tumbling down from the rocky hills above. The King mulled that question over in his mind again and again. Eventually he spoke, his voice still low, a bitter note to the words.

"I am thinking about all the people I used to trust, and why they seem to be so few these days." A half truth, he was thinking about a particular person he once would have trusted with all his heart, and he knew exactly why she was gone. "This is by no means the first time someone has tried to kill me. I remember feeling so afraid the first time, I was only a child then, but it gets less the longer you keep surviving. I suppose you get used to it, in time."

He cleared his throat and craned his neck to observe what the rest of the party was doing as they spoke. Lord Iria jested with an annoyed looking Lord Urathon, whilst Manawyndan watched the King and the Princess like a hawk from nearby. Lady Cheladrine seemed to be arguing with her eldest, Elethiomel. Her younger son was bothering the irate Captain Rhiathon, who in turn scanned the horizon for the outriders she had sent ahead to scout their path.

"Was that your first brush with death, Princess? Or have you tasted it before?" He turned his golden gaze back towards her. He found suddenly that he wanted to know. He wanted to be able to trust someone else.

Was it wise to tell him my fears? Though Elise doubted he was so willing to have her dead, there had been a moment when he could have done it and drained the life from her when he had his hands around her throat, but yet he had stopped. It’s just because he needs the lands I provide. For his people to survive, nothing more. But yet it had felt right to tell him the truth of what was on her mind, there was only so much she could hide and considering it was starting to now show physically it was becoming more difficult to conceal it.

As the silence fell between them, she couldn’t help but wonder what her future really had in store here, was she forever going to be counting each day she lived waiting for the moment of her own demise. Perhaps I was a fool to offer him that branch, a stem of truth for one of his own. Keeping her eyes in front of her as they rode on, until she finally heard his reply letting her in on his own thoughts. “I think it comes hand in hand with being a King, not knowing who you can really trust.”

Frowning for a moment as he continued on about how it was not the first time someone had tried to kill him, she wasn’t really surprised it was natural for Royals to have high bounties on their heads to the power hungry or rebellious people, but it didn’t make it any easier about hearing it. “That’s awfully sad, to know you get used to something like that in time, having a target on your back. Enduring it, surviving it. Even as a child. I’m not really surprised, it’s only natural things like this happen and it was something I was taught as a child.”

Shaking her head slightly as she tried to remove the rather dark thoughts from her mind, that her life would always be surrounded by those she could not trust and those that would want to see her dead. Turning her gaze to the party that surrounded them as she used the silence again between them to see what the others were doing, Treville and his own men weren’t too far from her just watching out and not engaging in any conversations with any of the Formori. There were her ladies who looked to be in deep discussion with themselves and it didn’t look to be important, but she caught their smiles and laughter between one another, and she felt a pang in her heart missing that kind of feeling. To be able to laugh and joke with someone she could consider a friend, the closest she had achieved to that so far was Lady Cheldarine, but again was that a woman she could trust?

Hearing his next question, her body stiffened as she gripped the reigns harder, a question she had never expected from him nor did she expect to have the need to ever answer such a thing. Subconsciously without even realising her fingers brushed against the fabric on her right wrist, a scar that was and had always been perfectly hidden by her dresses. Meeting his golden gaze with her own bright blue eyes she kept the silence between them for a few more moments before she finally opened her mouth to speak, “This is… the second time.”

What harm can he do with my past?

“That’s not to say I haven’t seen plenty of death, there is more than I can count on that front, but personally. This is the second time I have feared for my own life.” As much as she knew the death of her younger brother had affected her it was clear she was not the target, Athos had been and a part of her even suspected her own brother had hired the assassin just to secure his line to the throne. Sighing to herself as her eyes were downcast now having finally made up her mind to tell him a story of her past, one that went hand in hand with her nightmares of her younger brother. After all getting to know each other would make things easier for them and maybe one day she’d feel like she could trust him.

“I was only thirteen at the time, and I guess it was partly my own fault for wandering off too far from my escort, but it proved to be the perfect opportunity for these rebels to steal me away and demand a handsome ransom to the King… except the ransom was too high a price that my father was willing to pay and tradition in Eorzia always meant I’d never inherit the throne, so I was somewhat expendable. Especially when he had two healthy sons.” Trailing off for a moment as she knew he would catch her drift without needing to delve too much into the nitty gritty of the story.

“After a day or so they learned I would not fetch them the coin they desired the only option they felt they had left was to try and kill me and run from the evidence.” Narrowing her eyes as she tried not to recall the memory knowing it was yet something else she had chosen to burry deep in her mind, to not feel that fear she had when she was a child but with it being a part of her nightmares it was hard to forget. “Perhaps they had a sense of guilt or did not want to watch me die because of my age but they opted to slit my wrist and let me bleed out. I might have been dead in minutes if they had cut the right place, and maybe it was luck, because they had missed it by an inch.”

This time her gaze sought out Treville, her eyes falling on him for a moment before she turned back to face Ozragad finishing her little tale. “Treville was quite young back then, but it was how he was promoted quickly within our ranks as he had found me hours later abandoned by the rebels. I had lost a fair amount of blood by that point, not enough to kill me. But enough for me to fear I'd die.” It had been more than enough to scare her though, especially at her age having to go through an ordeal like that and her father had clearly felt some guilt from it after because he had practically given her everything she wanted.

“Have you ever felt that before? Life slipping away from you without having the power to stop it yourself?” She found herself looking back at him intently, feeling slightly vulnerable for sharing something of her past that not many knew about her bar the Royal Family.

He listened to her story without comment or interruption as they rode deeper into the valleys. The scattered clouds overhead began to clear, driven away by a strong westerly breeze, flying out towards the ashlands. All there was were sounds for the horse's hooves against the stones, the whistling of the winds through the mountains, and the Princess's voice as she told her tale. The tale of her previous taste of death.

It had not been a story Ozragad had heard before. He could understand why, it did not reflect particularly well on Regis, as both father and King. Indeed, the Eorzians would have surely wanted to keep that sordid episode hidden. Rebels when she was thirteen? Were you funding those ones, or could Regis not pay since you were busy invading him that year? Or perhaps both?

It was true, he probably had some sort of hand in it, if you looked deeply enough. He had always been most eager to exploit whatever weaknesses could be found in Eorzia. He had needed to, they were the smaller country, with the smaller army, he had used every underhand tactic to level the playfield in his favour at some point or other. That had included sending money to Eorzian rebels. And even if he had not funded those particular ones, his wars would have taken away soldiers that could have been dealing with such things. Those wars also cost money, money that could have been used to ransom a Princess.

At the time he had never felt guilt about using such tactics. It had been war. But now... now could not help but feel a small pang of regret. It seemed Ozragad had caused this Princess suffering along before they had ever even met.

"I have taken wounds before on the battlefield, some serious. It is not the same though, often you do not even realise how bad the injury is until the fight is almost over. The rush of battle, it numbs the pain, makes you feel invincible at times. I am a martial man, I have never felt helpless in a battle." The King let his words trail off, taken by the wind. For a while he just stared out into the distance, past the Princess, looking back even further, into his own past. "...But I do know the feeling you speak of."

Of course he knew that feeling. Watching your life slip away before you and being absolutely powerless to do anything about it. How else could he describe what he had felt the day she had left him? Liveuta. It had not been him that had died that day, but in some ways Ozragad felt he had never truly lived since then either.

He had felt so helpless then.

A shadow flickered across his face, a mixture of emotions too many to give name to.

"I know how it is to watch your life slip away through your fingers." He did not say anything more, he could not bring himself to.

They rode on in silence for a while longer. Above them hawks wheeled on the air currents, their sharp cries piercing the quiet as they hovered, waiting to dive down and bring death to the small helpless creatures that hid in the meadow grass. The few signs of inhabitation they had seen as they had left Cirith Anyr, a scattering of stone walled fields, the odd herder tending their flock, had long his disappeared. The lands they were in now were empty and wild. In time Ozragad found his tongue again.

"I doubt it means much, coming from a man like myself. But I am truly sorry that you had to feel such a thing. At such a young age." There had once been a time he would wished that despair on every man, woman and child in Eorzia. You still would if you thought it would bring her back. But it would not, he realised that now.

As they rounded the corner of another hillside, the valley below them began to widen out.

It was a place where three different valleys met, and it formed something of a large natural bowl in the landscape, surrounded by dark stony peaks and high desolate moors. The lowlands themselves were a mixture of open grassland and woods, a small lake at its centre. On a grassy knoll overlooking the dark blue waters was a small encampment of pavilions already set up, awaiting their guests.

They had arrived at the where the King would stage his hunt today.

"Ah, here already." The sound of a hunting horn rang off in the distance. "That... that was not a conversation I was expecting to have today. I thank you, Princess, for your sincerity." And with that he spurred his horse, sending it off into a gallop, to race down to the encampment below them.

Elise continued to ride on the white mare and for some strange reason she felt a slither of relief after having told her tale, not once had she voiced it to anyone before partly because her father had forbidden it and in truth, she never wanted to relive that moment again. Now, she felt an odd sensation almost like it had been freeing even with having told Ozragad of all people. This hidden secret of her past. If her father knew she had told their enemy of all people he would go mental, probably as he would assume it exposed a weakness that he could take advantage of. Is he my enemy though? Even with the peace treaty she knew how her father thought, and she wouldn’t be surprised for one moment if he was already finding loopholes to bring this country down. Brutal honesty also told her that it didn’t matter if she was his wife or not, she would go down with the Kingdom alongside him.

It’s a start between us, I guess. I don’t know what possessed me to tell him. I’ve never…

Frowning to herself as her eyes focused on her wrist, the fabric hiding the scar that she knew was there beneath it. “I’ve never told anyone about it, and I’m sure you can understand why it’s not been broadcasted before. I just ask you respect that and keep it to yourself.” Her voice was soft, no hint of her usual stubborn self as she had shared something quite intimate and even though she was to marry this man he will still a stranger to her.

I don’t need anyone’s pity on the past.

Nodding along as she listened to him talk about the wounds he had received on the battlefield, how the adrenaline fuelled him she couldn’t help but wonder if anything did scare him. Had there ever been a moment in his life he truly feared for something?

I can’t ask something like that.

It was only then did her eyes widen slightly as he admitted to know of the same feeling she had experienced, life slipping away without having any sort of power to stop it. Whether directly or not she couldn’t quite tell as he didn’t go into it, maybe he would another day as after all this wasn’t the conversation, she had expected to have with him. Elise had just expected to exchange small pleasantries, wait for the Hunt to be over and return back to her room as if it was any other day here. No in depth talks or getting to know one another like it had turned out to be.

The silence was almost deafening as she glanced to the sky to see the hawks crying over them and she took the chance to look at the lands before her. They were beautiful in its own sense and she found herself comparing it to Eorzia and what her home was like, but she had to remind herself that it was no longer her home. Not when her life was to be here now. They still had meadow grass here and although when she had first approached the city it was in some sort of cave it still had some green land. Not much from what she had seen so far, but enough for wildlife to live inside. That is probably why lands were a big part of the deal.

Meeting his gaze as she looked back towards him a wave of confusion crossed her face, why was he sorry? It wasn’t like he had specifically ordered the rebels to do such a thing, and then there was her father who hadn’t done anything to help her at that age which to her was just as bad. None the less, the apology from him had stirred an emotion inside and she wasn’t sure what it was exactly. “No… I.” Hesitating for a moment as she glanced away her fingers gripping the reigns of her horse painfully tight, “It means more than you realise, to offer sincere words like you have. Thank you.”

As Elise spoke her chest tightened as she tried to process what she was feeling in the valley, rather than make an effort to figure it out she put whatever it was down to not feeling one hundred percent and that it was having an effect on her rationale side. At a loss for anymore words she offered Ozragad a warm smile before he raced down to the encampment, keeping the horse at her own steady pace she continued on just watching his retreating figure finding that she wanted to know more about him.

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There was still a thin line of mist hanging above the opposite shore of the lake when Ozragad arrived at the camp. The low hillock it was situated upon gave a good view of the dark blue waters, the distant forests, and the hills and mountains that rose above them all. The chill was dissipating from the late morning air, as more and more sun broke threw the patches of cloud to bathe the land beneath in their rays. Perhaps the Princess right after all, he mused to himself as he surveyed the horizon, it is good weather for a hunt.

The top of the hillock was taken up by a pair of large canvas pavilions, between them there had been erected a wooden platform covered by an awning. The rest of the camp of lesser pavilions and common tents had been arranged around these, leaving a clear central avenue the dais looked down onto. They would be hunting all day, or gods forbid, multiple days, and therefore there was a good chance they would be spending the night here. Ozragad did not mind particularly, he was more than used to living on the march, it was the theatre of it all that grated at him. He did not appreciate an audience to his leisure time.

For some reason the King found himself thinking about her again, did she hate the artifice of all this as much he did? Or was she inured to such things from her time in Eozia? Had she ever slept beneath the open sky? Had she ever hunted into mountains and forests such as these?

She was a strange creature to him. In some small ways Ozragad supposed they were similar, their royal upbringing, their fiery tempers and fierce wills, their own share of traumas. Though at the same time, they were profoundly different, their race, their gender, their age, the very lives they had led. How was it then she had been able to pierce him so with a simple question? And somehow dredge her up from the depths of his soul. Livueta.

"You're staring." The voice made him jump. It was Manawyndan, he could tell just from the dry rasp of the old Formori's throat, but he had not heard him approach. Never forget, he is a spymaster, he knows those subtle arts better than you.

"I was thinking actually."

"About what exactly, sire?" The councillor raised an eyebrow he query.

"Nothing, nothing that matters at least. Shall we get on with this?" There might have been a time he would have devulged his thoughts to Manawyndan, but that time seemed to have passed. After all, someone was trying to kill him. Manawyndan certainly had means... but did he have motive? Either way he should trust no one. And yet you are busy taking the Eorzian child into your confidences.

He turned his back on the lake and strode to the wooden dais erected between the two royal tents. The majority of the courtiers were milling around in the camp, the servants hard at work preparing the tents for their masters, the guards either at their stations or patrolling the outer edge of the camp. On the wooden stage were a number of Ozragad's inner circle, his two other present councillors, Lords Iria and Urathon, Lady Cheldarine and her family.

"Lord Iria will make the announcement, if it pleases Your Majesty." Manawyndan again, slipping in beside him, whispering to him what would happen. How had he once been comforted by this man's ever-present presence? Now he thought about, was there not something sinister about a councillor who was too useful, too indispensable?

"Very well. Get on with it." Ozragad spoke brusquely with a dismissive wave of his hand. Iria turned to a herald standing at the edge of the platform, at his signal the long call of the hunting horn sounded once more.

Elise couldn’t help but take in the beauty of the forest, the mist that shrouded it in mystery to her as she didn’t know these lands and she took in every sight she could memorising it in her mind. It gave her some peace and comfort to be able to focus on something like this after having opened up about her past, allowing him inside the walls she had built up briefly. Was it just because she wanted to believe Lady Cheldarine in the fact he needed her by his side, or was it because a slither of trust would help build some sort of relationship between them making life easier in the long run.

I should still be careful, perhaps one day there will come a point when I feel safe in these lands. Who knows when that will be? I can’t allow myself to get comfortable.

“Your highness?” Pulled out of her thoughts Elise turned to see Treville had approached from behind and she found herself frowning only thinking he had yet more wonderful advice for her that she didn’t care to hear about.

“I don’t want to hear it, I know you are against this wedding tradition, but it’s not about you. Nor I or even him. This is for the people to show a united front, how else do you expect to achieve peace from this?”

“No, I have made my thoughts clear on that matter and I already know it falls on deaf ears where you are concerned.” Treville bowed to Elise before rising once more his horse now alongside the others being fed. Offering out his hand to help Elise down from the stunning white mare, she had ridden on he cleared his throat. “I have just come to advise that I will keep an eye out and sweep the perimeter.”

“Do what you must.” Sighing softly before she strode off away from him not even glancing back at his bowed form before he slipped off into the woods as the announcements were made. Trevilles priorities had always been keeping the Princess safe, even behind enemy lines he would put himself in front of a blade before it could reach her. The news of the assassination attempt did have him unsettled, although he couldn’t be sure if it was meant solely for the King, he would keep his eyes and ears peeled out for oncoming danger. Something that could happen whilst out in such an open area for a hunt.

Brushing herself down Elise was soon joined by her ladies and overseer of her household in Morganyth, Atarah, Ida and Flora all stood ready to serve her with bright smiles on their faces. Apparently, they were all very excited to be part of the hunt as if it was some big deal, which when Elise considered the thought it technically was with the sentiment behind it. Just to her it didn’t mean anything other than helping their case for peace.

“You remember Lord Iria, and that’s Lord Urathon. Of course, Lady Cheldarine is someone you’ve met on multiple occasions now.” Ida began whispering in the Princesses ear to remind her of all the notable members at court. “They’ll make an announcement. Then the hunt will officially begin. Did you want to rest a while once it’s begun? Or join in the festivities? Your tent is nearly ready.”

“I may just sit and watch a while first, enjoy the beautiful scenery before me.” Without wanting to admit it Elise felt quite drained both physically and mentally already from the events and the idea of sitting down for a moment or two sounded quite appealing.

“Of course, you should see the stars at night your highness, it’s exquisite. I’ll ensure we have a warm winters coat ready as the temperature drops at night.”

“That would be wonderful, thank you so much.” Elise found herself smiling at her lady in waiting happy at the idea of being able to look up at the stars at night. It had been the first time she had ever been outside overnight, not counting her trip up here because she had been travelling. There had never been an opportunity for her to go out hunting as that wasn’t what a lady did back home. Not that it stopped her from practicing how to handle a sword and a bow and arrow for that matter as she wasn't prepared to be as defenceless as she had been when she had been taken at a young age.

Glancing up towards the dias as a silence swept over the people in attendance, she heard the hunting horn, and she felt her gaze fall onto Ozragad finding herself more curious about him with each new thing she learnt whilst here. Can I really trust him? Or will he be the one to kill me?

The blast of the hunting horn rang out across the camp as the herald pressed it to his lips. Its sound called the inhabitants of the hunting encampment to attention. The noise and bustle of busy servants and bantering nobility died down as the assembled people turned expectantly to the dais raised upon the knoll.

Ozragad surveyed the crowd below imperiously. Who were they? All these hangers on that had been considered important enough to invite along to this performance. The presence of servants and soldiers he understood, but surely he was already preaching to the converted here? These were the nobles of central mountains, the green western valleys, and of the Kazadun River. There were a few from the far north and Iron Town, fewer still from the southern marshes and Port Kazad. But the people of this Kingdom he truly needed to win over, those hardy folk of the Bleak Coast and the war-like Ashlanders, where were they? Truly, this is a fool's errand.

It was then that his eyes caught sight of her again, the Princess, a droplet of purple and gold in an ocean of black, red and grey. She was easy to pick out of any crowd here in Morganyth, the pale peach of her complexion marking her out against the dun Formori. A thought occurred to the King then, maybe this display wasn't so much to acquaint his nobility with her, as it was to acquaint her to his nobility. Convince her she was not quite as despised in this country as others, himself included perhaps, had suggested. Or its to win these peace loving loyalists round to slaughtering their cousins when the civil war you have created comes around. Or this is just another opportunity to assassinate you.

As he watched her from the dais she too turned to look at him, immediately he glanced away again. Why did he just do that? He was a King, he was a warrior, he should be able to stare down anyone if he wanted to. It's because you're ashamed. You're ashamed of how much you are thinking about her. And you don't want her to know.

It was then that Lord Iria, the chancellor, began his announcement.

"My Lords and Ladies! Gathered nobility of the great and powerful realm of Morganyth and the ancient and venerable Formori! We are called here today to witness a time honoured tradition of our people!" Iria was in full flow, arm outstretched to gesture theatrically like some great statesman or orator. Ozragad supposed he did have a way with words, especially when he had not been drinking. In another life Iria could have been an actor.

"In the days of yore, when a young suitor-" He snorted at that, even the most deluded flatterer would not have called Ozragad young these days. -wished to take a bride from her mother's hearth, he had first to prove to her family that he could provide their daughter with sustenance and protection. Hence, the bridegroom would be tasked with the hunting of a great beast and laying it at his the hearth of his betrothed."

"Today, our beloved King, Ozragad of the House of Gwydion, shall undergo this trial to prove his worth to the Princess Elise of the House of Hydaelyn. He may nominate three champions to accompany him on his quest! Your Majesty, whomst shall you name?"

It was Ozragad's turn now. The champions had already been decided well before hand. The first would be Rhiathon, the captain of Ozragad's personal guard, who would be acting as Ozragad's personal bodyguard for the duration of the hunt. The second would be Lord Urathon, the Lord Justicar, a prominent councillor and a skilled hunter in his own right. The final place would be for Manawyndan, the Lord Steward and permanent right hand of the King.

But lately, Ozragad had found himself less and less sure of the trust he had placed in Manawyndan. There had been failures in his abilities recently, the riot, the assassination attempt. Failures? They were only failures if you believe he had nothing to do with him... He cleared his throat and stepped forward to speak.

"I, King Ozragad of the House of Gwydion, name my champions. Rhiathon, of the Royal Guard. Lord Urathon, of the Royal Council. And...

There was a pregnant pause. Ozragad turned his head to examine the cluster of figures who stood with him on the dais, waiting expectantly for the last name. Manawyndan was amongst them, and for a moment Ozragad swore he saw a flash of annoyance flit across the old Formori's face. His resolve suddenly hardened as he felt the coals of his anger kindle once more. But who else could he name to the party? It would have to be someone of high standing, and someone he could trust. His eyes roved further over the dais, and landed on his cousin Lady Cheldarine, and the two Formori youths standing beside her.

"And Elethiomel, eldest son of my dearest cousin, and of mine own Royal Family."

There was a burst of cheering and applause from the gathered crowd, with something of a more subdued reaction from those standing upon the wooden stage, including some visible confusion from those who had known the intended composition of the King's hunting companions. Ozragad saw Manawyndan approaching him, eyebrows raised.

"Sire, I thought we had already agreed tha-"

"Plans change, Lord Steward. See to the running of the camp in my absence." He brushed past Manawyndan, barely giving him a second glance. "Elethiomel, get your bow and saddle your horse. You ride with me today."

Catching him look away from her she kept her gaze on him watching his appearance, the way he held himself and she hated the idea that she was feeling more comfortable around him. It unsettled her the idea that she had opened up revealing something of her past that she had kept safely locked away in the back of her mind, but perhaps she had spoken it because she was feeling more comfortable around him and what was going to be her new home. I would love to know what he is truly thinking, about us. About the peace treaty, his people. Will we ever be truthful with one another or will we just simply coexist fulfilling the duties that we must.

It was only when Lord Iria began to talk did she look away focusing now on the Lord that began the announcement to signify the start of the hunt. Finding herself smile as she watched the enthused Lord in full flow clearly enjoying the theatrics of this. Is that what I think of this? Some big theatrical farce to appease everyone. No… I don’t think I quite think of it like that. Not anymore.

Finding her smile grow as she listened, eyes shinning with delight at the small joke made she had forgotten her earlier concerns as everyone around seemed to be just as captivated with the Lord and listening to his speech. It was almost like the calm before the storm, everyone seemed to be in a joyous mood about this hunt and it was then Elise felt like she should enjoy herself too. The idea of sleeping under the stars, enjoying the freedom of the outdoors was something she knew she could get behind. Sadly, with the assassination attempt and the tensions that could be felt she knew she still had to be on guard, but she could do both. Enjoy herself and keep an eye out for potential danger.

I wonder what beast the King will slay for me. Turning her gaze back to the King, wondering if he was going to put effort into it, care about slaying some magnificent creature to prove his worth. It wouldn’t surprise her if he wasn’t about to go to such lengths, but she found herself wanting his attention. His effort in sourcing something great like a King would for her. Who wouldn’t want that, it’s natural? As if trying to justify her own thoughts that anyone in her situation would still want the best.

I know I would want to give it my all, I plan too with the performance… Elise found herself pausing at her own thoughts not wanting to admit the truth behind the other wedding tradition of the bride performing for the groom. That she wanted to do something that would grab his attention, that he would like, and she could feel those inner thoughts lingering embarrassing her as a pink hue graced her cheeks.

Pushing the thoughts down as she tried to focus once more on Ozragad speaking, announcing his champions that would follow him glancing around at the pause as she could hear whispers across the crowd. As he announced the last member to his party cheers erupted and Elise followed the crown applauding with a smile not really caring for who was in his party until she realised it meant Manawyndan was staying behind at the camp. For some reason it didn’t sit right with her, but she found herself wary around him especially after he had insinuated that she could have had a hand in the attempt on the Kings life. If he knew of the horrors, she faced each night, the nightmares and anxiety that followed no one would question her.

With the champions now set Elise turned to face her ladies who showed her towards her tent that had now been fully set up and ready to host her. There was no doubt in her mind that a bit of rest would be perfect.

Ozragad had somehow managed to avoid conversing with Manadwyndan or any of his other councillors until he was atop his great black stallion once more and riding out along the lakeshore to the hunting grounds. Then there was no escaping Lord Urathon or Captain Rhiathon, two of his three hunting companions. Other than that, they rode with a small group of guards, some huntsmen to handle the tracking dogs, and finally Elethiomel, Ozragad's kinsman and spur of the moment replacement for his planned third hunting companion, Manawyndan.

Had he overreacted in his anger and distrust of his councillor? Now that he was getting from the crowd and his temper was beginning to cool he felt somewhat foolish. How could Manawyndan, an old man, hope to harm in any way when he was alongside his loyal guardsmen and fellow councillors? Worse he had dragged a mere child into the middle of whatever scheme might be swirling around him. When has harming innocents ever stopped you from doing whatever you liked before? Do not think you have changed so much, or that you care any more just because he is of your blood.

From behind, he heard the approaching hooves of two more horses, drawing nearer to him. Ozragad glanced behind to see his companions approaching him, Lord Urathon and Captain Rhiathon. They both wore severe expressions on their faces. No doubt they wished to lecture him about his sudden exclusion of Manawyndan.

Urathon was the elder of the two, though not as old as Manawyndan or even Ozragad himself, his Lord Justicar, overseer of the Formori's laws and his courts. He was a serious man, with a habitually grave visage. He gave the appearance of orderly man, hair always pulled back, goatee always neatly trimmed. But Ozragad knew he was at home in the field, for hunting was one of his few passions, that and his young wife back at their camp.

"Your Majesty, if we ma-"

Urathon began, Rhiathon cut across him. Where Urathon was a sober and orderly man, Riathon had a warrior's heart. Her head was shaved of all hair, her arm as strong as any man's, Ozragad could not remember the last time he saw her out of armour. She had a fiery temper too, one that reminded him all too much of his own. But that was one of the reasons Ozragad had her as captain of his guard, she had little respect for anyone other than him and always acted without delay, she would never hesitate when it came to defending him.

"Sire, the hunt has been extensively planned to ensure your safety, I would greatly appreciate it if you would consult with me before making any further changes to our security arrangements."

"Noted, captain." He could feel a slight turn to his lip. Notice no reproach in her voice about Manawyndan, just that he had done so without consulting his guard captain first. There was no love lost between Rhiathon and Manawyndan, they were very different people, and had often clashed at his war councils.

"Yes," Urathon tried to continue for where he had been interrupting. "But is it truly wise to exclude Lord Manawyndan considering t-"

"What's done is done, Urathon. I will hear no more of this. Now, can we please focus on the task at hand? Hunting. The King spoke in a tone that brook no argument. He put his fingers to his lips and blew hard against them, emitting a shrieking whistle. "Elethiomel! Get up here boy!"

With more than just a little trepidation the youth lashed his reins and brought his horse up to ride alongside the rest of the hunting companions. Ozragad had though of him as a child earlier, but he could see now that wasn't strictly true. His cousin's son was young, but was on the cusp of manhood now. He looked like Cheldarine too, with a heart shaped face and long auburn hair worn loose, though his was silk smooth where his cousin's was curled and coiled.

"Y-you summoned me, Your Majesty?" There was tremble to his voice, in fact he seemed nervous to even be there. Well, it was hardly surprising considering the circumstances were rather unexpected. Still Ozragad his not remember his kinsman to be of a timid temperament, as far as he recalled he had been a headstrong boy, though he had not seen him a few years.

"We are planning our strategy for today. Do you hunt much, up at the Ergyng estates? It was good land for coursing as far as I remember." His features relaxed and the tension went out of his body as the conversation turned towards the matter of hunting. He must have realised that he had been caught in some form of political quagmire, Ozragad thought.

"Yes, sire, I am fair hunter, particularly with the bow. No doubt anywhere near as experienced as yourself, sire, or your lord and ladyship."

"Urathon is fine tracker and rider. Captain Rhiathon has a good spear arm, but little else."

"You wound me, sire, though my hunting skills are not my primary asset. I am here to ensure Your Majesty may hunt in peace. Ozragad thought there was little chance of that even if there was no attempt on his life today.

"Well, we are all here. I think those woods up ahead look as likely spot as any to start. Loose the dogs and see if we can pick up a scent."

The Hunt had begun.

“Is it to your liking?”

“Oh… It’s, uh fine.” Elise trailed off as she glanced towards the beautiful tent that had been erected for her, it was adorned in beautiful colours and wonderous silks. The extravagance screamed of royalty, and it was the first time she had seen such a thing because she had never slept out among the stars and had always been inside a palace or under a roof. “Sorry, it looks beautiful. This is the first time I’ve ever camped? Is that the word I’m looking for?” Pondering the thought as she questioned her ladies that had followed her along with smiles on their faces.

“I’m not surprised personally.” Atarah mused with a rather knowing smile, the overseer of the Princesses household whilst in Morganyth. The older woman was holding a few soft blankets in her arm ready to store inside the tent as it could get cold of a night, and she wouldn’t want the Princess to be uncomfortable. “You haven’t really travelled much if I recall correctly.”

“Indeed, my first-time travelling had been to come here.” Elise smiled slightly realising she had been quite sheltered back at home, contained between the palace walls and even then, visits to the town had been scarce or with a huge amount of escort it was hardly enjoyable. Staying in Morganyth itself was a whole new experience and even now she was getting to stay outside the palace with the tradition of the hunt which was oddly exciting to her. Thrilling to be outside, but she did feel very exposed but perhaps that was partly to do with her little experience in exploring.

“Well maybe when things all settle down and people come round to the idea of this treaty, I’m certain you’ll be able to explore more. Perhaps even before then you could always ask his majesty if you’d like to see more.” Atarah shrugged, whether or not he would agree to such a thing was a different story, but she doubted the Princess would even ask in the first place.

“Oh no, it’s okay. I don’t want to be a bother.” Taking a few steps into the tent she could see a few plush chairs all set up ready for her to relax in, glancing back she could see everyone else was happy to be focusing on what they were doing, and no one looked like they wanted to approach her so she would take the opportunity to get some rest away from prying eyes and expectant looks. Another reason Elise wouldn’t bother asking was simply because they had only just started talking in a more civil way with one another, who knew how long that would last when both of them seemed to have a temper.

“I’ve brought some food M’Lady and Flora has some fresh water.” Ida bowed upon entry of the tent and placed a platter of fruit onto the table just as Flora sauntered in with a jug of water and a cup for the Princess.

“Thank you.” Elise smiled politely to the ladies that had all ensured her needs were met, as a household went, they weren’t bad at all. Though she wouldn’t trust them with her secrets or confide in them, they had all been welcoming and tried to assist her and not once did she sense any ill intent from them. “Although, I might take this opportunity to get some rest whilst I’m not needed.”

“Of course, the girls will keep watch outside and if you need me, I will be helping ensure the other households are all set up to expectations and smooth over any issues that occur.” Atarah nodded as she clapped her hands to the girls who were both up and ready to leave, “Perfect opportunity to get some reading in the sunshine before they return.” All three women bowed respectfully to Elise before exiting the tent leaving her to fulfil her wish to rest in peace. They had supplied food and drink and comfort so not much else would be needed, not at least until the King returned but that was all dependant on what he managed to hunt.

The hunting party progressed up the valley and into the woods. The open sky above them disappeared beneath a canopy of green pine needles, the views around them closed in with walls of ferns and bracken. They loosed the dogs, who went bounding off into the underbrush followed by their keepers, in search of any scent or trail. Urathon went with them, being the most experienced tracker of them all. If there was anything worth hunting in this particular forest, they would find it.

That left Ozragad alone with Rhiathon, his guards, and Elethiomel, his cousin's son. An awkward silence fell over the group as the sounds of the barking hounds faded into the distance. He realised now that he hardly knew his own kinsman. Elethiomel had rarely been at court, the feast for the arrival of the Princess being the first time in several years. There had been some kind of row about that he remembered, when the boy had been young, and he or Manawyndan had wanted him to serve as a squire to the King. His mother had refused point blank, it had gotten so bad that they one point they did not speak for the best part of a year, the rift only healed when she had agreed to send Piebio as a page and cupbearer instead.

"So... boy. We see you so rarely at court, glad to be out from under your mother's thumb?" Elethiomel glanced over, there was still a nervous look to him. To be expected perhaps considering him being so unfamiliar with his King, Ozragad knew he was an intimidating presence, we to his own subjects.

"No, your Highness, I mean- yes, of course, I am glad to be in your presence but I-I-" The sentence devolved into a stuttering mess as the youth tried to cover himself from speaking any form of slight against either his mother or the King himself.

"Speak freely, the truth will not hurt me nor my cousin."

"In truth... I am glad. She means well, sire, but she is too overbearing. She thinks she knows what is best for me, thinks to arrange my life to suit her desires. But I am old enough to think and feel for myself now. It has been this way since my father died."

"Ah yes... your father. Ozragad remembered his cousin's husband well. He had been one of his finest commanders. He was a brave man, a loyal man. Had he not held the flank at Bitter Tree, that battle would have been lost, perhaps the whole war with it. You should be proud of him."

"I am proud of him. He fell fighting for a just and noble cause." A change went over the boy then, a strange shadow passed across his features, a look of regret and doubt completely different to the panicked nerves he had displayed before. He began to speak again, but this time in urgent lowered and hushed tones."Your Majesty, may I beseech you for just one moment? You m-"

"A SCENT! A SCENT!" The cry came up from the woods in the direction that the dogs had raced off to only a few minutes before. Ozragad sat bolt upright in his saddle and spurred his horse forward with a kick of his heels.

"It will have to wait, lad. We hunt!"


When Ozragad and the others finally caught up to where Urathon and dogs were, they found them milling around clearing, at the centre of which sat the bloodied carcass of a felled stag. It was dead, someone had already started the butchery process, peeling back the hide in order to remove the creature's entrails. The sight of it immediately put Ozragad into a foul mood. He would hardly be fulfilling this trial if he had no part in the slaying. Not that he especially cared about the whole damn thing, but still, he had no desire to be made to look weak, or worse, a hypocrite. He rounded on Urathon angrily.

"What is the meaning of this exactly, my Lord?! I send you to track for me and find you finished the killing instead? Are you trying to emasculate me in front of my court and my bride-to-be, or is it just ."

"It was already dead when we came across it, sire. Poachers." Urathon took the berating stoically before gesturing to three men Ozragad had not noticed at the edge of the clearing. They sat on their knees, surrounded by a cluster of his guardsmen, their swords all drawn. He turned to them now, staring them down with his intense, burning orange-gold gaze.

"This is the King's land. Poaching is theft Theft from the King can be punished with the taking of the offending hand, can it not? Lord Justicar?"

"Indeed it is, sire."

"So what are we waiting for? Let us dispense some Justice and move on with our hunt." Ozragad began to draw his own sword. Two of the three men, the younger ones, backed away, whimpering in terror at the sight of the King's blade. The guards behind them gripped their shoulders and held them in their places. The third one, who sat between them stayed as he was, and stared the King down with his rheumy eyes.

"Your Highness, have mercy. It was my idea, I was the one who led 'em astray, committing this crime knowingly. Take both hands, or a head from me. But leave 'em be, they have families who need 'em, who will go hungry without them. I am old, have no mouths to feed, take me in their stead."

His words made Ozragad stop in his tracks. He looked them again, more closely this time. They were all raggedly dressed, and were pitifully thin, the old man especially. The King's brow furrowed into a stern yet contemplative frown.

"You knew this King's Land, and you hunted on it anyway. Why?"

"We're from Cradoc village, sire. Ashfall took most our harvest, steward took the rest to be sent to the capital. There's not enough food in the village, young 'uns are going hungry. We don't want trouble with the law, but we weren't prepared to starve."

For a while the King said nothing. Then he sheathed his blade and turned his back on the prisoners and went to remount his horse.

"There's no game for us here. We have a hunt to be getting on with. Leave these men in peace."

Ozragad made a mental note to stop by Cradoc village on their return journey back to the capital.



It took a while for them to pick up another trail. The sun was getting low in the sky and they had scoured the other side of the woods from where they had come across of the poachers. When the dogs had picked up a scent they had all gone charging along after them as a single party, branches and vines whipping past them as they rode along the narrow forest trails.

This was more like what a hunt should be, Ozragad decided. It was easy to forget the worries and cares of the world beyond this forest, forget everything apart from the challenge of following the hounds and staying atop his mount. But he knew he would have to emerge from here at some point, go through the pageantry of the court once again, face the Princess, face Manawyndan. But for now he was free to ride as he pleased. Ozragad took pleasure in that simply freedom.

They burst from the darkest of the forest into a long clearing cut across by a stream, and there, bounding over the rocky waters, was another stag. It was easily larger than the one the poacher's had taken, a mighty beast that had battled its way through many an autumn rut. But now it was no longer the master of the forest anymore, a more dangerous beast had arrived to hunt it down, and bring it to its end. One of the hunters had already loosed a shaft that had taken in its hind quarters, it was leaving a steady trail of blood now.

"Come on! We will have it yet!" The King roared and spurred his horse forward again. In the clear ground it began to show its superior breeding, gathering speed and beginning to put some distance between it and the other riders. The only one who managed to keep up was Elethiomel.

The dogs paced back and forth along the stream edge, searching for a place to cross, hampered by its high banks and swift current. Ozragad did not slow his horse, he did not search for a place to cross. Instead he rallied his stallion once more, sending it charging up to the edge of the gully and made it leap at the very last moments. Its front legs made contact with the top of the opposite bank and the horse frantically scrambled its hind legs to reach the top. But Ozragad did not give it time to pause, he turned it in the direction of the Stag and rode towards the opposite tree line.

When he got there he realised he was alone, save for Elethiomel. The rest of the party's horses had baulked at the jump, they had been forced to slow and find a lower place or cross. He could see Rhiathon waving at him to slow down or come back. But he was almost on top of his quarry now. If he stopped and turned back they might lose the trail and be forced to return to camp empty handed, to start all over again in the morning. His pride wouldn't let him do that, he would finish this.

"Boy, with me now. Let's end this." He commanded the youth, and they disappeared into the trees together.

It was a darker inside, but the blood trail was easy enough to follow. They had to go slower in woods, but they moved as swiftly and silently as they could. All went well until they came to a fork in the path they had been following. There were no blood splatters on either side, nor any tracks that seemed to be recent. Keen not to lose the beast, Ozragad decided to split them up, sending his kinsman down one branch, while he would go down the other. If they found the trail again they would call the other over.

Ozrand went down the lower branch, which quickly descended into a series of rocky hollows and muddy pools, overshadowed with dense pine stands. In the soft mud he could sight of fresh deer tracks and a spot of blood. He called for Elethiomel. There was no answer. The rocky walls of the hollows must have captured the sound somehow. No matter, he rode onwards.

The path he was following reached a dead end, a sheer cliff rose up at the other end, impossible for any beast to climb. The stag was trapped there at the end of the trail, blood still dripping from his arrow wound, now heavily limping. Ozragad pulled the hunting spear from its holder on his saddle. The stag regarded him warily as he approached ever closer, pinning it back to the rock wall. Suddenly it tried to bolt away, not yet ready to accept its fate. Ozragad shifted in his seat and raised the spear above his shoulder, hurling it at the stag as it tried to run past him and escape to freedom.

He was so focused on the throw and the passage of the spear as it flew through the air, that he did not see the arrow that was shot from the top of the cliff.



When he came to his senses, he was lying on the ground, a terrible pain in his left ankle.

It was his horse. The arrow had missed him and killed his horse. It had trapped one of his legs as it had fell.

He could hear barking and shouting all around him.

Rhiathon came into his vision, quickly followed by Urathon. They were calling out to him. He reached out and grabbed his captain of the guard by the front of her cloak.

"Not a word... not a word of this to anyone..."



It was full dark by the time the hunting party returned.

They carried with them one great slain beast... and a wounded one too.