---

---

Roman got back to his feet in a crouch holding the axe in his hand and staring at the beast. Mayet had delivered a strong blow with Nala exposing a noticeable weak spot and gaining the ire of the beast just before it would have gotten to him. The situation was bad but not dire as he took a second to observe the carnage and the actions of the others. Munir seemed to be intent on remaining at range but his shots have been well placed. Mayet like him still clung to a blade and someone had started to drag away the injured huntress or so it seemed.

Now he could only hope that Munir could land a few more hits while Nala kept up its attention long enough for him to make his move. Dropping the knife and griping the axe Roman took two powerful steps forward and lunged at the beast timing his axe to swing down on the open wound Nala had created. With the might of all of his time spent swinging his hammer, the weight from his body built carrying and molding steel and stone, the experience poured into everything he has created and all the days spent honing his fighting skills for moments like these where his safety is not guaranteed at all.

This wasn’t a time for goading or bragging, it wasn’t the place for who gets the kill. This was life at its fullest, kill or be killed, a quick death for the beast to end the threat of it hurting others forever and ending its misery.

---

Anastasia had come bounding up to Wystan like an excited golden retriever as her blonde hair danced behind her. She had a plate of rolled crepes in hand and teddy bears tucked under her arm. “Wystan! I haven’t forgotten about you I promise!” She outstretched the food toward him as she stood before him, “I… I thought you might be hungry over here.” She was breathing a little heavier as she tried to catch her breath.

The bodyguard blinked once at the dessert before he dutifully accepted the plate in one hand. ”Thank you for thinking of me, Princess.” Wystan had tried not to, but he looked over the delicacy with a little too much of an uncharacteristic gleam in his eyes.

“ Of course! Didn’t want you starving over here.” Anastasia noticed a certain look in his eyes and she grinned with pleasure. It had always entertained her to get a reaction out of the normally stoic bodyguard. “ Go on. Try it! Pleeease!”

A small rumble erupted from the empty pit known as his stomach just then. ”...” Without much else of a word, he nodded and gestured towards a bench nearby, patting down the spot for the princess before they sat. The watchdog held the plate awkwardly in his hands as if waiting for an order.

The princess hurried over and scooted beside him, her elbows against her knees and her chin in her palms as she looked at him expectantly. She nodded her head as if to urge him with a smile, her eyes alight with excitement.

Wystan then folded the thin pancake over his fork and promptly took a bite. It was practically an order from the princess. There was no world in which he could have refused. He closed his eyes for only a moment to savor its soft and creamy texture. A soft exhale left him as he did so, while his shoulders seemed to slacken ever so slightly.

A small, soft squeal of joy escaped Anastasia and she clasped her hands. “ Ooooh you still love those… I’m so happy you still love those. I used to secretly pester the kitchen staff to make them more often so you could have them when you first started living with us.”

The bodyguard’s eyes fluttered open at those words. He cleared his throat with a fist over his mouth, effectively disguising his rather bashful reaction with a rough grunt. "Back then, it was you…?” He processed the memories from those early days— when he felt unworthy of stepping near the royal estate the first time he was brought there. Even with Auguste's sincere welcome, every fiber of his being told him that he did not belong. But for some reason, when it was time to dine, the royal kitchen staff had never missed serving him the crepe rolls he adored so much. Delicious food played a big part in what calmed his raised hackles and allowed him to relax. Truth be told, knowing Ana now, he should not have been surprised that she was the one behind all of that.

...And he wasn't. What did surprise him, though, was how his mind stalled when he heard those words. A skip in his heart rate. Was he sick? He couldn’t make out what any of what he felt meant. Instead, he took his feelings out on the crepes, inhaling them in less than a minute.

”Thank you, Ana.” Wystan paused to think of that one thing Auguste often said to him to express sincere gratitude. ”...I feel blessed to have you in my life.”

A smile slowly crept across her face that she tried to bite back as her gaze lowered and her cheeks reddened. Anastasia was thoughtful for once over her response. Wystan had a way of catching her off guard with his words often, in such a manner that made her want to consider her reply more selectively. She glanced up at him through her lashes as she finally decided. “You know what... Can I give you a hug?”

”Oh. As you wish, your Highness.” Wystan looked at her and then their surroundings, deeming it safe before responding with slightly open waiting arms. Then, he pat himself down around his abdomen and made sure his concealed arms were out of the way. The expression on his face was of concern, but not unwant. It was clear this was not something he was used to. ”I am ready.”

Anastasia emitted a giggle at his reaction. There was a very small inactive pause before she threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around his waist in a tight squeeze. Thankfully, she wasn’t a very strong princess. She remained there silently for a long moment until she felt satisfied with their hug.

Wystan was silent. He had his arms laid gently around the princess’ back, careful not to squeeze too hard lest he pained her by any injuries he couldn’t notice from last night. On the other hand, the bodyguard was half-part perplexed and half-part amused, thinking to himself that perhaps if one were, for some reason, to be enveloped in a human-sized marshmallow, then that was what it would feel like. He would never get used to hugs, but he could for sure take solace in Ana’s.

She freed him and looked up at him, her hands moving to her hips with solemnity. “Now I am ready too.”

The watchdog found satisfaction in her satisfaction. In that moment, he was simply glad that she felt safe enough around him still, even in spite of his failure to keep her and her brother safe during the nobles’ getaway. After eating away at him all night, that thought finally crept back into his mind as he lost himself for a moment in silence.

”...Ana.” He spoke low. ”I want to know… and if it’s absolutely okay, what happened last night?” He repeated the question Auguste had asked him prior, only to realize the heaviness in his chest of anticipating her response.

Anastasia had tilted her head with a frown at his sudden silence and change in disposition. Though his next words cleared her confusion up, she did not seem to cheer up any. Her shoulders slacked. “Oh. Right… That.”She wondered if Wystan would be as disappointed as everyone else. The idea stung to think about, but there was no escaping his question.

“Well… My friend throws these parties… He tries to make a space where everyone can be themselves and not worry about titles or their reputation. He’s a really nice person I think so I didn’t want to tell my parents his name without any proof he did anything wrong... I thought it would be fun to bring people to the party but I convinced Darryn, the stablehand, to bring us there.”

The bodyguard acknowledged all of this with a slow nod, recalling the boy’s face from the stables.

She paused and bit her lip. After rubbing her forearm, Anastasia continued, her throat growing tighter with every word, “ Then this morning…No one remembered anything that happened but apparently, a lot of us came back in bad shape, even the Alidasht royalty. So of course my mother freaked out and tried to blame Darryn-“ Her words broke off as her voice cracked. She covered her mouth to keep the dam from breaking. Farim and the festival had managed to distract her enough to forget how she had been feeling.

Wystan laid his hand on her shoulder, tightening it in a warm grip to refocus her attention on him. ”Be easy, Princess.” He nodded at her with concern, establishing full eye-contact. ”I’m listening, but you need not speak more if it pains you to do so.”

“I-...” She looked up at Wystan. His words were soft and soothing; they managed to calm her a little. Her hand drifted from her mouth. Even though Wystan had given her an out from the conversation, she found herself continuing to speak. “They tried to torture him… Callum told me that Darryn’s free now…But… I have a feeling my mother...“

It wasn’t chilly by any means this day, but the princess shook like a leaf. In turn, watchdog respectfully held her tighter. ”It’s alright.” He spoke softly. ”It’s alright… it will all be handled.”

Anastasia wondered if Wystan had meant his words simply in comfort, but it was the idea that motivated her to feel that she had to make sure it was handled, though she had no idea how she’d do so quite yet. “ Yes.” She relented with a sigh finally after a pause. “ Suppose it will...”

”Ana, I hear that heavy sigh.” Wystan knew she was in her head again. His heart ached a little without his intention, but his voice still sounded strict due to concern. ”Please worry not. Prince Auguste likely has a plan in the making of what’s to come. He will not let a trusted stablehand, especially one as loyal as Darryn, go without a fight. In fact, I would not mind being a substitute for such punishments in his place— after all, I was in charge of looking after all of you last night.” Though he was painfully aware of the Queen’s merciless potential, there was resolution in his voice, and a suggestion like this was never prone to doubt when it came from the watchdog.

Anastasia’s eyes widened on their accord and she cringed a little. She was shocked and frankly horrified at his suggestion. She did not interrupt as he continued to talk, her mind racing as his initial words looped.

”In regards to your friend’s gathering…” He pulled away to give her a look; the stone-coldness of his features warmed into icemelts as he spoke with sincerity. ”I know that I have apprehended you and your acquaintances more times than any man could count… but I want you to know that we do this because we worry. Your brother, Auguste, tells me to keep an eye on you because he cares for you deeply. Prince Wulfric, too. Young Prince Callum doesn’t like to mention this to me, but I don’t doubt his consideration for you, either.”

Her gaze was on him as he spoke. She was paying attention though too caught up in worry to comment just yet. Anastasia did believe him when it came to Auguste and Callum, but she did wonder sometimes if Wulfric really cared. She’d die for any of the three regardless as well as for Wystan. She cared about all of them, even her parents, more than she wanted to sometimes admit.

”...And as for myself, I do feel this way, too.” He looks away as he mumbles the rest of his point before returning his careful gaze to her. Her eyes met his somberly, frowning slightly. Anastasia then folded her hands anxiously as he spoke once more. ”Anyway, my point is… I apologize for making you recount the night prior, but I thank you for sharing this with me, Ana. I know now that I have your trust, and I assure you I will do my best to maintain it as your retainer.”

Her mind was still hung up on his willingness to substitute himself in Darryn’s place. Imagining Wystan all scarred up like that made her grip her hands together tighter. “… No. You are not substituting yourself for any punishment.” Anastasia’s words were firm and she had a look of resolve as she spoke. She wasn’t one to take on a demanding tone often. She looked up at him, locking her eyes onto his. ”You’re never to offer yourself for such a thing… Okay Wystan?” Concern swam in her eyes, ”Promise me please?” If her mother or father, or even Wulfric, ever agreed to hurt him, Anastasia knew she would turn on them completely and never turn back.

”...Understood, Princess.” Wystan did in fact not quite understand Her Royal Highness’ concern for this offer, however, she looked scared, and so he did not have any difficulty in compliance. ”In turn, may I too ask you for a promise?” She nodded her consent as she visibly relaxed.

”...Please do inform me of where you will go the next time.” The watchdog lowered his eyes. He didn’t want to think of the possibilities of what could’ve happened had he or the Queen’s men arrived a tad bit late. ”I cannot blame you for wanting to leave after the ball. I do not mind so much where it is you find yourself. I will not judge you for the places where you’d rather go to be.”

”Oftentimes, I feel the same way.” He gave a light pause, realizing that perhaps he has spoken too much in this one sitting than the entire half-year. ”If you need to run, then do so, but I’d rather you not without me knowing where.”

”...Forgive me for my straightforwardness, Ana. I hope that you may understand.”

“… I do understand. I’m really sorry for the stress this caused.. Anyhow, I promise. “ Anastasia held up her pinkie, to which the bodyguard looked at with mild perplexion.

” Pinkie swear!”

Ah. ”Pinkie swear.” Wystan followed Ana’s lead and intertwined his little finger with hers.

”…Annnd to start things off, I’ll be honest that I plan to go visit my friend who threw the party to find out what happened… Buuuut I don’t think I want my brothers to know…”

”I appreciate your upholding of this “pinky law” so immediately.” With fingers still conjoined, he couldn’t help but smile.”Date, time, location, and means of transportation, please.”

“ Tonight. 8pm. Improvising.” She was smiling as she declared her answers despite their lack of depth.

”Clive’ll follow. 7:30pm. We’ll be ready to hear of your improvisations. Clear?” Though his voice was stern as always, he wore a satisfied expression as if calmed by relief.

” Crystal clear! … Or should I say …Crystal Damien clear?” She giggled at her own unfunny joke, immensely pleased with the delivery.

”...”

”Mmmfh.” Wystan suppressed his own giggly laughter, but he could only do so much. ”Hahaha!” He slapped his knee in the process.

Anastasia’a smile grew as wide as possible as soon as Wystan began to giggle. However, it was the knee slap that sent both her into laughter and her ego through the roof. ”I KNEW IT! I am funny ! Yes !” She triumphantly raised a teddy bear in the air victoriously.

”Hahaha..” Wystan was clutching at his stomach. "You always come up with the best jokes.” There was sincerity, and he meant every bit of what he said.

”I know! I’m glad you still have a great sense of humor.”

”...Thank you, Princess. You are the first person to tell me this.” After wiping away a stray tear, he experienced post-laughter clarity in which he inwardly questioned how they went from a very serious topic to this.

She reached up to wipe away a stray tear he missed with the back of her finger, gentle and slow with her movements. Anastasia was thoughtful as she collected her grip over the teddy bears again. [color=E77298] “ … Hey you should come meet my new friends. I have been hanging out with some of the Alidasht visitors. They’re actually really nice… Plus after everything that happened, improving our relations with them is probably a good idea.”[/color

”Uh- Ah, yes.” Wystan was visibly caught off-guard, but brushed it off at Ana’s suggestion. ”That, we should do.” With that, he stood up and offered a hand.

”Here, let me carry those for you.”

“Okie dokie! Prepare your hands! They’re really soft…” Anastasia began to place her teddy bear in each of his hands, but then halted her movement just before they touched his skin and gave him a serious warning look, “... aannnddd prepare your heart too because they’re very cute! Don’t want it melting, do we?”

”No, of course not. Don’t worry.” Wystan wondered if the warmth burning inconspicuously inside his chest the entire time was akin to “melting”. He stretched his arms out to receive the bears with a rare smile as he looked at her.

I do suppose these bears are quite cute.

Anastasia had started walking toward the group when she recalled the gunshots they had heard earlier. She slowed her pace as the importance of that dilemma dawned on her. She suddenly whirled around and looked at him. There was a dramatic pause before she spoke in a hushed voice. “Wait… Did you hear that bang, bang, bang earlier? “

”The… what?” Wystan squinted his eyes and leaned in closer. ”And where did you hear that from?"

Anastasia decided to step close to him and get up on her tippy toes so she was just by his ear. She then whispered, “Gunshots from the south. Three. Think there’s something bad going on. “ The princess retracted her head from that position and instead looked up at him with eyes, sparkling with bad ideas. Truth be told, there had been a pang in her gut about that situation. If someone was hurt, every moment counted.

"I can hear your thoughts and I don’t like them.” Wystan frowned and sighed quite audibly. "I will be the one to scout the area. You will stay here, safe and sound with the company of your guards.”

“No way! I’m coming with you. I gotta make sure you don’t get hurt.”Anastasia at first grinned as she spoke. After a sigh, she rested her hands on her hips and the smile fell. “In all seriousness, I want to help. If someone’s getting hurt and there’s something I can do about it, then I want to. I know I am not a badass like you but I promise I won’t be any trouble. Besides, those guards are going to just follow me wherever I go anyway. ” She gestured to the two on the sidelines. The two looked each at other before moving toward them with the intention to join.

The bodyguard exhaled deeply. He knew that if he were to apprehend her, she would simply find another way to slip through. ”I will not make myself regret this.” He spoke simply.

”You may come. But do keep in mind that I need you in my sights at all times. If you remove yourself from my view even just once, I will find you, and I will attach you to me without hesitation.” Wystan patted his hip, making it obvious the number of concealed tools he had on him, ready to use whenever.

Anastasia sucked in her lips to keep in a laugh that bubbled deep within. The princess was barely audible as she muttered to herself,“Is that supposed to be a bad thing?” She struggled to keep her lips from upturning so she instead averted her gaze in an attempt for him not to notice.

The bodyguard raised an eyebrow. How could it not be a bad thing? He was perplexed but didn’t want to entertain this mischievery any longer for fear it might underplay the urgency of the situation.

”...Why are you smiling?”

“...I’m not...Oh look is that Zarai? Anastasia’s gaze fell on the pretty girl with strawberry blonde hair. She was hard to miss. “ My love! Back from the War already!” She called to her.

---

The excitement, the adrenaline, feeling the roar of that mighty creature resonating through Mayet's chest as she wounded it... When she first came to this hunting event, she definitely wasn't expecting to be met with such a good prey to hunt. Unlike the others, which seemed to be fighting for their lives, Mayet was apparently having a lot of fun judging by her expression.

Regardless of how much excitement that hunt was providing Mayet, it was true that the bear was showing itself to be extremely resilient, shrugging off Munir's sharp arrows, charging through Roman's spear and even ignoring Mayet's powerful slash. Despite the many wounds, the bear still had enough strength to resist and fight. Enough to even be able to free itself from Nala's bite, sending her sliding through the forest floor, leaving deep scratch marks behind as Nala sunk her claws into the earth to keep her balance. Fortunately, even though the bear was incredibly resistant, it wasn't able to escape Nala's bite unscathed. It now seemed to be unable to stand up, forced to stand on all fours.

"Good job Nala! Keep your distance, it's focused on you." Mayet said as the bear charged towards Nala, letting out a loud roar.

While Nala was bigger than most tigers and had an impressive physique, thanks to the regular hunting trips she took with Mayet, she knew well that facing that bear head on was a bad idea. As long as it was focused on her like that, she knew that the best course of action was to try and keep his attention, buying Mayet and the others to attack while she dodged it's charges.

Answering the bear's roar with a menacing growl, Nala dashed away from the bear's charge, distancing herself from it as she continued growling.

With more arrows being fired by Munir and Roman moving for a decisive blow with his axe, Mayet knew that unless something very unexpected happened, that hunt was nearing its end. Still, Mayet knew better than to relax before a hunt ended, no matter how certain it's result seemed to be... That and she couldn't simply let someone else finish that hunt. At least not without her attacking one last time.
As Roman moved in to hit the bear's neck with his axe, Mayet moved until she was directly behind Roman and simply waited with her ring blade on hands.

The moment Roman finished his strike, she would immediately run towards him and before he even recovered his stance after the attack, she would put her hands on his back, along with the flat end of her ring blade. Using Roman as support to perform a front walkover. As her left leg rises above Roman's head and starts lowering to wrap itself on his left shoulder, she would catch her ring blade with her right leg before letting it go at full speed towards the bear's neck almost like a coiled spring. The ring blade would be carried along with it, the centrifugal force, coupled with the momentum would result in an attack with far more force that it would be possible for someone of Mayet's size and strength.

The whole maneuver would end in a rather comfortable position, especially for Roman, who would have Mayet sitting on his shoulders and legs wrapped around his neck, with her right leg sticking out and her ring blade around her foot.

"Do you enjoy this feeling?" Mayet whispered in a provocative tone, pressing her thighs against Roman's neck, not enough to harm or suffocate him in any way, but enough for him to clearly feel her muscles and how firmly she was holding on him.

That small provocation lasted for only a brief moment and it would be almost imperceptible for most people, unless they paid very close attention.

Unfortunately for Roman, he would only be able to feel such bliss for a brief moment, as Mayet would almost immediately get out of his shoulders, letting herself fall back and her hands touch the ground, using her leg to throw her ring blade up before catching it with her right hand and standing up back again.

Mayet hoped that it would be enough to deal with that bear... Otherwise they might find themselves in a battle of attrition, having to wait for the bear to succumb to it's wounds or get too tired to resist anymore and give up... Which was exactly the type of hunt she hated...

Interaction: Mayet @13org Roman @ReusableSword Sadie @Potter

As the combination of blows landed on the rabid beast, Munir kept his distance and one arrow nocked the entire time, ready to let loose the arrow and tumble away from potential danger as needed. Munir let out a slow exhale as the bear finally collasped, life leaving it's crazed eyes once and for all.

Even though the beast seemed crazed, Munir still took a knee where he was, and offered a quiet prayer in Alidashtian for the felled beast. "May your next life be peaceful and filled with the grace of the Sun Goddess Arinna." He finished. Shaking his head, he lamented on the fact that the bear was more than likely rabid, and thus called for the dramatic actions of the trio to quell the danger. The beast's pelt has absolutely been ruined. Also given the sudden nature of this attack, Munir essentially threw down the beaver Roman had given him. He first looked up and made sure his sister and Roman were both still alive and about, before turning his attention into seeking out the beaver.

However, before too long, a dagger flew past him and caused him to stumble back a few steps. The dagger flew past him harmlessly but it still alerted him. With his bow in his left and the fletching of an arrow in his right hand, he naturally turned his attention to the direction where the dagger came from. Seeing a princess follow by her guards and retainers, he relaxed slightly. Since if he was to be harmed by another royal, his Father would not take lightly to the situation. The figure started speaking, first checking in on Roman, confirming what Munir though and revealing themselves as someone of the court. She then turned her attention to Munir and his sister, offering them a curtsy. Munir bowed back in an Alidastian fashion befitting of a prince. "I'm fine. But I do not believe we have met. I am Munir Ibn Raif Al Kadir, Son of Sultan Raif, Prince of Alidasht..." Munir's voice trailed off, waiting for her to respond back.

Wulfric barely heard Auguste’s steps as he departed, nor did he much notice the soft click of the doors as his brother closed them behind him. His mind was stuck on the conversation he had had with Callum. He ran through what had been said, what had been implied…how it might have gone instead.

Unwittingly, his brother’s words had provoked a reaction. Then he’d gone on and said how ‘nothing could change’, essentially, something he by no means believed at all. Of course, that’s not what Callum had wanted to hear. Is alienating him all you can do?

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, and put a hand to his face. It was a rare emotion of dismay – one directed at himself.

The prince carded both hands through his hair, then stood up to pace. It was as if the more he thought, the more confused he became. He stopped mid-step to glare out the windowed balcony door. It was a clear, clear day, but it granted no clarity whatsoever.

Just what did his brother want, really? Before he’d said those unfortunate words, he had offered cooperation. He had practically said to him that Callum could do more to help in the ways he liked, if that’s what he really wanted so much. If only-

If only what, Wulfric? If only he was more like you? He exhaled a short, sharp breath, and dismissed that line of thought.

This is getting nowhere. He was too agitated, his thoughts and feelings all tangled up in one confounding ball of turmoil.

Sighing, he decided he needed to work off this stress, and headed to the knight barracks.

The barracks were a large construction of stone, and though designed for function, the building’s architecture was impressive. Besides dormitories, there were a dining room, break room, locker rooms, shower rooms, storage area, and others. Most importantly, there was a sizeable training courtyard, walled off frum public eye.

Entering its premises, those in vicinity stopped to stand at attention at his approach. Wulfric simply motioned for them to go back to what they’d been doing. Nonetheless, Sir Noel Favre came to greet him. The knight, while not particularly tall at 5’7, was heavyset and strong, had his black hair close cropped, and was sporting a stubble beard. “Good afternoon, Your Highness. Everything alright?” The man’s cadence had the slightest accented drawl to it, apparent in the way he dragged out his last word.

Wulfric gave a sharp, curt nod. Perhaps his tension had been seen through despite his public mask of nonchalance. Perhaps it was an assumption based on the unusual time of his arrival. Because while he visited several times a week, it was generally in the mornings and/or evenings.

“Yes,” he retorted, but there was a slight nagging at the back of his mind. “Well…” he changed his response. “Did…something happen outside, by any chance?” Despite being so introspectively absorbed, he had still noticed something off on his way here. Alongside Edin Avenue and further beyond, apprehension had been dotted here and there among the populace.

“Hrm,” the other man coughed awkwardly. “I don’t know.” Noticing his sharpened gaze, the knight continued swiftly. “A few o’ ours just went out to check. But if you’d like news immediately-” Wulfric held up a hand, and shook his head.

“No, that is fine. Handle it first, report later…I trust that if there is something, our security forces have it under control,” he decided. By his expression, Favre took the expectation of competency as a personal compliment. “I am here for a spar,” Wulfric announced, intending to conclude the conversation.

Favre made a sound of pleasantly surprised acknowledgment. “Oh…‘Course. You’re welcome any time, Prince Wulfric.”

Wulfric, who rather thought it’d be a problem if he weren’t, gave a somewhat unimpressed look. Yet without further ado, he went to get dressed into more appropriate attire. After a warm-up, he was ready for a bout. His first opponent was Favre, who seemed just as eager to face off against him as he had been to chat to him.

They both took their stances. Favre was the first to take initiative, going for a downwards cut from above a shoulder. Though he was shorter, his two-handed longsword gave him the reach advantage against Wulfric’s one-handed sabre. Still, it was a predictable attack. He deflected it by raising his blade, so the heavy hit slid off the curved edge of his angled sabre.

Favre, who had excellent stability, was quick to recover, and by the subtle shifts of his body, Wulfric saw him preparing for a follow-up. With a slight adjustment of his position, he preemptively avoided the threat of a retaliatory strike. Conjunctively, he moved in for a slash against the shorter man’s belly. The knight stepped just out of range. Then, he skillfully brought his longsword under and over Wulfric’s. In one maneuver, the other man was protecting against the prince’s attack, and readying a counter.

It was mostly instinct which guided Wulfric just then; quickly and decisively, he was able to score a thrust against his opponent’s arm. This jostled Favre’s attack just enough out of the way. Sensing opportunity, the prince advanced for a more decisive blow. They were now too close to each other for the knight to try a slash. Instead, he pushed up heftily into a guard. Wulfric’s blade was deterred from its path. Because of the knight’s position, he had to disengage to avoid being smacked by his opponent’s pommel.

The two then circled each other, observing. A few close exchanges followed. In the end, Wulfric won that first match when, at one point, he managed to grab the other man’s arms with his offhand. With the other, he delivered a would-be fatal hit, and thus concluded the match.

“Good one, sir,” the knight complimented. Wulfric inclined his head. By mutual agreement, they went for best out of three.

In the second round, Wulfric worked in more quick slashes, his footwork quite impressive. Yet, Favre was good at playing on the defensive. They traded several glancing hits, with the prince in the lead. However, the knight turned things around when he attempted a high-risk high-reward maneuver, and was successfully countered.

“Nice work,” Wulfric said this time.

The third round was their longest, as they were both at their most focused. Though still aggressively oriented, he wasn’t so forceful as to present an easily exploitable opening. After one of the many times they crossed swords, Wulfric was quicker to press his advantage, and won.

“Excellent form, Your Highness,” Favre offered after a short breather.

“Good matches,” the prince acknowledged. “Let’s switch it up,” he remarked. Wulfric found himself some other sparring partners. Though mock combat was his favourite way to practice, he did go through some drills as well, and also did exercises to improve general physical conditioning.

It was no time at all before a bell from the nearby church resounded, announcing that it was one. Already? Wulfric removed his helmet, and shook off his sweat dampened hair. It was a shame, but…It would have to be enough, as short as he felt the training had been. Though, due to its intensity, he did feel pleasantly exercised. He took the next few minutes to cool down and stretch.

Seeing as he was readying to depart, most people left him to it.

Most.

“Prince Wulfric!” Antea ‘Andy’ Lanza greeted cheerfully as she arrived to the practice area. She was an unfortunate rarity in Caesonia; a woman knight. She was tall for a woman at 5’8 and was athletically slim, her tanned, wired frame possessing the kind of hidden strength which surprised many. Her sandy hair was tied back in a very short ponytail, and had an undercut. Her face was thin and sharp, nicked with small scars here and there.

Turning to look at her with a raised eyebrow, he saw that she’d come with someone else. Her arm was slung over the shoulders of a discomfited youth, whose shock of dark brown hair had been ruffled into disorder. “Leavin’, sir? Yer Highness’ll miss sum newbie bustin’ then.” Though technically a noble, her speech was entirely common. The newcomer in question scowled at her words, and struggled to free himself from her grip.

Antea let him go. As the adolescent straightened up, Wulfric saw he already matched him in height, even though the young man was at an age where he was likely to grow some more. “Your Highness,” he took care with how he spoke. An embarrassed flush had spread across his cheeks, further warming his bronze complexion. Despite oozing mortification and surliness, he managed a respectful greeting. Gaze averted, he bowed, and the motion was proper if stiff. “Izan Verdugo, sir.” The prince gave a clearly dismissive wave, and the newcomer gladly took the chance to slink away.

“Don’t scare him too much,” Wulfric drawled dryly at Lanza, having noticed a glint of vicious mischief in her gaze.

Sensing his good mood, the woman grinned slyly, and jokingly returned, “Only what ‘e needs, sir.” Wulfric huffed sharply. But as he turned to leave, a secretive smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

After his practice, and before returning to the castle, he had a shower to take.

He stood under the spray of the cold water longer than usual. It was physically reinvigorating, and somewhat meditative. Even as his fatigue receded, so too did the enjoyment. Part of it was that he was concluding a fun activity, and thoughts of the work and obligations he had to attend to returned to his active awareness.

A part of it – perhaps the larger one – was that he recalled his reason for having come here.

He still didn’t know what the fuck to do about Callum.

Wulfric took a long, long breath, and exhaled slowly.

At least he’d regained enough of an equilibrium to function normally.

Polished brightwork gleamed beneath the glare of the early afternoon sun. Neatly bundled ropes creaked as they swayed with their heavy tackles in the gentle breeze. Furled and tightly lashed, the Sada Kurau’s distinctive crimson sails looked like giant caterpillars clinging to their yardarms. Her crew had performed their tasks handsomely and far beyond what Sjan-dehk had expected. With just little over an hour to prepare for a royal visit, he would’ve been satisfied had they simply swabbed the decks and patched up the more obvious damages.

He would have to give the men a well-deserved reward later.

“Kan sedarjah, tapat! Tapat sedarjah!” The terse parade commands felt strange on his tongue even as he shouted them. There just wasn’t that much use for them aboard his ship. His Sada Kurau spent almost all her time at sea and on patrol. Matters of decorum were well at the bottom of Sjan-dehk’s list of priorities and besides, the annual naval reviews and occasional parades rarely involved small ships like his. That suited him just fine; Sjan-dehk wanted sailors of substance, not just those who looked nice in overly-clean uniforms and knew only how to march in cadence.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel frustration welling in his chest as he watched the half-dozen men before him fumble with their rifles. Looking at how they clumsily brought their weapons off their shoulders and held it vertically before their faces, one would be hard-pressed to believe that these same men were capable of putting a bullet squarely between the eyes of a man from over two hundred paces away.

“These are the best we have, are they?” Sjan-dehk asked in a dry murmur, his voice only just audible over the clacking of arms and barely-restrained swearing of the chosen sharpshooters.

Standing beside him, Mursi nodded sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes, captain.” Even in just two words, the apologetic tone of his voice was evident. “They’re the only ones who remember their drills. It’s been a long time since we’ve had to go on parade, captain.” He visibly cringed as one of his men failed to grasp their rifle properly and dropped it. “I’ll be sure to schedule more drill–”

“Don’t bother,” Sjan-dehk interrupted with a shake of his head. “I doubt we’ll be doing more of this. We can just have them stand at attention next time. No need for this pointless fucking about.”

“This ‘fucking about’ – as you put it, young marcher prince – is what will give our guests their very first impressions about our illustrious navy.” From Sjan-dehk’s other side came the sharp words of the last voice he wanted to hear. “A navy which – if I may remind you, young marcher prince – you swore to uphold the honour and dignity of.”

“Yes, yes, most knowledgeable one. I remember my oath.” Sjan-dehk didn’t even bother hiding the disdain and impatience in his voice when he responded to the royal tutor. The old man’s presence on the launch that had ferried Avek and Mursi back from the Sudah had been a surprise, and it had taken no time at all for Sjan-dehk to realise that it was, unfortunately, of the unpleasant sort. Against his very vocal and very colourful protests, the royal tutor had insisted that his Sada Kurau offer the king a proper welcome worthy of his stature. An obvious decision to some, perhaps, but all Sjan-dehk cared about was that they had only just finished a long and arduous journey. An unnecessary parade was the last thing his crew needed.

He placed his hands on his hips and chewed on his lip as he surveyed the men. Their uniforms were clean enough for a simple inspection, but certainly not for a parade. They’d need more steaming and pressing for that. It was the best they could manage, and so it would have to do. “Paansilan!” Sjan-dehk shouted, and after a brief pause, the men shuffled back to their previous stance – feet together, rifles slung behind their right shoulder, and a hand on the strap. Sjan-dehk waited for a moment, then shouted the command for an armed salute once more.

As expected, the sharpshooters were far from fluid and crisp in their motions. A little smoother and with less fumbling than before, Sjan-dehk had to admit, but far from what was acceptable. It would have been amusing to watch were the situation not so dire. The king and his entourage were surely already on their way. Time was running out. “See?” Sjan-dehk gestured to the men and turned to look at the royal tutor. “If they’re not getting it now, they’re not getting it by the time the king gets here. We can have them just stand at attention and look…Soldier-like. It was good enough for other kings, why not this one?”

“Self-proclaimed kings,” the royal tutor pointed out. “None of them recognised as such by anyone other than themselves, and from what I’ve been told, all of them you later killed in battle.” Sjan-dehk looked back at the sharpshooters and said nothing. Unperturbed, the tutor continued. “This is an actual king, seen by his people as their liege, and whose lands we are currently guests of. Surely even you can see that there is a marked difference, young marcher prince. We must show the proper decorum.”

Sjan-dehk snorted. “Only thing we’re showing at this rate is our bare arses in the wind.”

“Might make for a better salute,” Mursi quipped. “At least they’ll leave laughing instead of thinking that we’re the worst sailors to have ever graced their harbour.”

That brought a smirk to Sjan-dehk’s lips. “They know almost nothing about us. We could probably feed them some horseshit about how that’s our ways and they’d buy it wholesale.”

“Yes, and they’d think of Viserjanta as a land of uncivilised barbarians.” It was clear by the royal tutor’s tone that he didn’t see the humour in the captain’s suggestion, unlike Mursi, who could barely contain his laughter. He tilted his chin towards the assembled sharpshooters. “We still have time, young marcher prince. I’m sure a man of your calibre can instil them with the discipline to perfect their movements.”

“Oh, you flatter me, most knowledgeable one,” Sjan-dehk replied flatly. He wasn’t even completely sure that he could remember the proper procedure to greet the king. At least, he wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t forget it all in the heat of the moment.

Well, that could be a problem for later. As just one person, he could probably just make something up on the spot and the king would be none the wiser. These sharpshooters, however, needed to at least move in full unison lest they look like a bunch of uncoordinated fools. “Paansilan,” he said with a sigh. It was unlikely the men would be able to get the salute down perfectly by the time the king arrived, but drilling them was the only way to shut the royal tutor up. He could always give them a change of instruction at the very last minute. The old man wouldn’t be able to stop him.

---

---

Roman felt more than heard Mayet’s attack as she rested her soft athletic legs over his shoulders for a moment before leaping off away from the bear. Their accumulated strikes seemed to down the bear but it still had some life left in it. Bloody and breathing heavily Roman began to think of how to strike the bear further when a dagger flew past him and into the beast silencing the last of its struggles.

Munir looked ready to strike again if needed, that man’s aim was very good being able to land several shots in quick secession without hitting any of his allies. Mayet’s quick and well placed strikes combined with Nala’s ferocity and power were a good team. He was glad that in a pinch the trio could work well together without having to worry about glory hogs. Roman whispered a prayer in his old language about strength and being at peace before he noticed the owner of the dagger quickly came into view.

Resting his axe on his shoulder he smiled at Sadie and the others she brought with her, “It’s good to see you too Princess Sadie, it does look like your aim has improved. Of course I’m alright I would never do something so dangerous without proper precautions. I just hope the huntress that was injured is being taken care of.” Roman took a step back towards Mayet and away from the bear checking a small silver pocket watch in his pocket with a grimace.

“To answer your earlier comment, you are correct I did like it, it reminded me of home.” He paused for a moment smiling, “I have 16 brothers and sisters, four have passed away but I am the oldest and tallest. Which means my younger siblings like to climb all over me.” He said with a laugh.

With a sigh he looked to the others and smiled once again. “Mayet Munir, it was a pleasure hunting with you this glorious morning. I do hope we can do this again soon. But it would seem it is nearly 1pm and I have black smith lessons I have to give soon and must take my leave. Sadie I hope I see you there and I hope you all have a wonderful day.”

Roman took a moment to pick up his spear and give the others a moment to say anything to him they wanted to before leaving. He did so quickly, moving at a quick pace towards his warehouse to grab a few things before heading to the blacksmith. He knew a few of the other smiths he brought with him should be there to set up and begin the lessons if he was a little late.

Time:1pm
Location:: The Horse Race
Mentions:: @FunnyGuy Lorenzo


As Ruby waltzed into the area of the horse race, she scanned the area with utmost curiosity. She was still in her lavish dress, but now had on a huge hat she had custom made herself days prior of hearing about the horse race with materials she had collected over time or found in people's garbage. Ruby had come to win.

She had never been to such an event before. Ruby usually had stayed in, but had felt inclined to attend due to the hat contest. Unsure what to expect, she decided to first buy a hotdog from a stand. Soon, she found herself looking upon the horses as she gnawed on her new snack. That was when suddenly a loud voice caught her attention and she jumped, stubbing her toe on a rock and letting out a yelp that startled those around her.

What in the Gods of Eromora?

Her eyes shot up to the speaker, who, fervently yelling on about the upcoming race, which reminded her peculiarly of the tang of a tasty waffle. The man from the waffle stand line! She thought. She started to chew faster as he shouted. Ruby made haste as she climbed up the stands. Once she had a good seat, she awaited for the race to begin with anticipation

---

Despite the heavy attacks suffered by the bear, it still struggled for it's life. A final stand from the huge bear as it's life neared it's end. As much as she wanted to take a look at Roman's expression after her 'little' provocation, he kept her eyes focused on the bear...

That was, until an exquisite, ornate lavender dagger flew through the air, sinking deep into the bear's chest, finally silencing it's furious cries.

The owner of the dagger came soon after, running towards them with an entourage of bodyguards running after her. The fine clothes, jewelry and the amount of bodyguards quickly identified the blonde woman as Royalty. Seeing how she seemed to be quite close with Roman, it was very likely she was from the Varian Kingdom. Mayet's thoughts were quickly confirmed as Roman called her 'Princess Sadie' as he replied to her.

The moment the Varian Princess turned towards Nala though, her eyes lit up as she expressed her amazement, making Mayet let out a satisfied, proud smile.

"We are fine, thank you for your help. Oh, and there is no need for apologies. If anything, we feel happy by the attention." Mayet said with a mischievous smile as she called Nala to her side with a hand gesture, gently caressing Nala's back as she approached her.

"Even in Alidasht, a majestic creature such as Nala isn't exactly a common sight. Especially one of her size." Mayet said with a proud expression as she approached the bear, getting the dagger form it's chest, before cleaning the blood on the bear's fur and handing it to Princess Sadie.

"An exquisitely made blade. Quite a wonderful dagger, indeed. Beautiful, sharp and deadly." Mayet said, offering Sadie a smile as she handed the dagger back to her, holding it by the tip of it's blade, with the handle pointed towards her.

It was only then that Mayet finally turned towards Roman. She was expecting to see him blushing heavily and not knowing how to react after feeling her thighs around his neck but, much for her surprise, Roman didn't seem to be affected by it at all and instead, he merely commented on how it 'reminded him of home' and how his siblings climbed all over him.

The disappointment on Mayet's expression was visible as she looked at Roman, incredulous. Until she finally realized... The way how Roman didn't seem to react to her provocations, how he seemed to be rather worried that her brother Munir might think bad of him or that he might be offended... It all made sense if she thought about it. The only reason why someone would ignore the provocations of someone as perfect as Mayet herself was if they weren't interested on females in the first place.

As Roman bid his farewells to them, Mayet's disappointment immediately disappeared, instead giving place to a smug smirk, the type of expression someone made when they had caught up on a 'secret'.

"It was quite an amusing hunt indeed, Lord Roman. I am sure we have all learned more about each other today. It is a shame to see you leave so soon though, but I am sure me and my dear sibling will have many other opportunities to meet with you." Mayet said, waving towards Roman before she approached Munir, who had just finished offering the bear a small prayer, as it was the Alidashtian custom.

"It seems you might have better chances with Roman than I would, my dear brother Munir... He seemed to be quite... invested in making you think positively of him..." Mayet said in a low tone, teasing Munir with a mischievous smirk.

"I wonder how would his reaction be if you wrapped your legs around his neck instead of me..." Mayet said, laughing as she continued to tease Munir.

---

”...Gunshots by the Damien Estate? Calbert must be livid.” King Edin had mused thoughtfully in reply to the guard in front of him. He had been informed of most of the daily events at this point. Upon the conclusion of the Prince's Court, he had dismissed Alden and held a brief conference with a key individual before returning to his throne room, where he was greeted by a contingent of Edin Enforcers with pressing news. King Edin had insisted on a detailed recount of the day's events.

Duke Lorenzo Vikena, still suffering from the moron-flu, had made a less-than-wise decision to start a scuffle in the park, all over pancakes. To add insult to injury, not a single one of my offspring had participated in the archery competition, resulting in a mortifying defeat at the hands of some Rick from the Varian Kingdom. In a separate but equally absurd incident, a duo comprising of an individual known as "The Kazoo Man" and a fugitive homeless woman, had launched an attack on Calbert's estate using an arsenal of bows and firearms…

King Edin grimaced in his seat as he thought over the guard’s recount. If the Gods had bestowed him with such blessings, why was this all going so terribly? After everything, the last thing the Alidasht needed to hear was that there were homeless people with guns attacking nobles. His gaze half-heartedly had fallen on the clock as it struck one. As a chime filled the throne room, it clicked.

It’s one pm. I told that Sundick fellow we’d come to survey the ship and prisoners. I hope he doesn’t expect me to go anywhere near gunshots. Good thing I had a moment to speak to that man before the guards came in. I had already assigned an entourage to escort him as well as someone to handle the ship purchase.

Time: 1pm
Location: The Ship Docks
Interaction: @Apex Sunburn Wasun Sjan-Dehk

---

A dark-skinned man with black hair and a mustache appeared at the docks, Edin’s guards following behind. He was well-dressed in a suit. King Edin had also sent another staff member to handle the purchasing of the ship. What his function was mattered not to Marciano. He was here for the prisoners and that was all that concerned him.

As he walked, the creaking of the wooden dock echoed beneath his leather shoes. The sight of men practicing drills caught his attention, and he wondered if they would be disappointed to not see King Edin. Clearing his throat, he spoke in a confident and clear voice. "Greetings, King Edin has sent us on his behalf." The professional mannerisms of his tone and body language made it seem as though he was one of King Edin's right-hand men, which Sjan-Dehk and his crew might assume.

“Hello all. I welcome to Caesonia. My name is Oswald Williams. I am here to inspect the ship on behalf of the King.” A blonde-haired man in a high-ranking uniform stepped forward to also greet the crew.