“I am going with you whether you like it or not– get away from me! I am not the type to be shy about kicking you in the face! Shove off!”

“M-My Lady! Please! T-The Viscount will–”

“Well, the King will have more than a few choice words for you if you butcher rescuing his daughter!”

Katarina Ashowan sat upon a saddled mare, her long hair tied back, and the bruises on her face already fading as she scowled down at the two Knights and three villagers who surrounded her and her steed trying to make her wait for the King’s elite Knights to arrive and whisk her away back to Austice.

“I’m the only one who knows where they were, and I can look for signs of where they are!” the redheaded woman shouted while forcing the speckled white and gray horse to dance away from one of the Knights who nearly succeeded in grabbing the reins.

“My Lady, His Majesty would have already summoned the Xava Knights, you don’t need to-”

“I came from the other side of the woods! You know as well as I do that while it is Xava territory, it is on the furthest border. It’ll take the Xava Knights at least three days to get there if they ride hard. Austice is technically closer!” Kat countered while trying to calm the horse that was growing more than a little antsy at having so many people lunging for her rider.

“My Lady, please think of your own safety, I’m sure your recent trauma-”

“Where did she get a horse?” one of the Knights stopped his frantic swaying with his arms out and suddenly straightened with a frown.

“Sir Finkle, I will have you know that I merely borrowed this fine animal and-”

“Oyy! That’s my horse!” Another villager, a man in his mid-thirties, came barrelling down the dirt road, his brown vest fluttering in the wind and his cap clutched in his hand as he waved down the group of people on the road leading away from the small village called Hickleson.

Both the Knights turned to stare at Katarina flatly, while she in turn deigned to look shocked.

“Sir, this comes as a grave surprise! I found this horse, minding her own business, grazing on grass over in a field that way.” Kat rested her hand on her chest in a show of sincerity that was not being bought by anyone.

“Nay, that’s my mare under yer arse. M’Lady.” The farmer only mumbled the ‘M’Lady’ after a sharp look from one of the Knights.

“Sir, I will without a doubt return this beautiful horse to you, but right now, I have great need of it as the kingdom’s beloved Princess is in grave danger.” Kat changed her tactic, her tone becoming noble and her back straightening.

The farmer eyed her warily, then the Knights who made no move to contradict her words.

“... Not like I can object to a noblewoman anyway.” The farmer’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly, and his eyes wearily drifted to the ground.

However, his words had an entirely different effect than he had anticipated.

There was a brief pause where no one moved or said a word, and then, there was a rustling of movement before two boots appeared in his vision.

Looking upwards slowly, the farmer found himself staring into the inhuman golden eyes belonging to the redhead who was as tall as he was– and he was not short by any means.

“You can tell me no. Nobility or not, this is your horse. Don’t ever think your voice doesn’t matter. I’m sorry that I presumed you didn’t need the mare.” Katarina’s serious expression and remorseful tone surprised not only the farmer but the Knights and other villagers present as well.

“Why’d you try to steal it then?!” the Knight named Sir Finkle suddenly exploded behind her while grabbing the reins.

“Because I had honestly thought she wouldn’t be missed if I took her for a day or three…” Kat blushed before giving her head a shake and turning to face the group of people that had been blocking her path.

“With or without a horse, I’m going with you. You’ll have to tie me down if you think I’m not going, so make up your minds with how we are going to get along with each other.” The Lady’s tone had turned sharp, and it made the Knights glance at each other with great unease.

“My Lady, the Viscount will surely-”

“He knows what I’m like and won’t blame you. Now, shall we go?”

“O-One of us was going to stay with you while we waited for the Viscount to arrive with-” the younger Knight who was glancing uncertainly at Sir Finkle visibly fidgeted. It was clear that while the town was under Sir Finkle’s guidance, the young Knight had been sent to be guided by him.

“Both of you come with me. That’ll be better anyway.” Kat then turned to the farmer who stiffened at the sudden shift in her tone. “What is your name?”

“Name’s Melvin Newhart.” The farmer bobbed his head, and while his face still looked drawn, there was a shift in his tone when he addressed Kat. He sounded slightly more respectful, and less exasperated.

“Could you please inform Viscount Ashowan when he arrives that Sir Finkle and– I’m sorry, what was your name?”

The younger Knight who was watching the exchange with obvious apprehension bowed deeply. “My name is Sir Gary Mistiv, my Lady!”

The farmer who had come had grown still and was frowning at the two Knights, then at the Lady still standing before him, her hands resting on her hips as she acknowledged the Knights bow with a regal nod.

“Yer… tugging my cap, aren’t yous?”

Kat turned back around with her serious expression still intact, only this time, when Melvin Newhart laid eyes on her, his attention flew to her bruised cheek and temple, then her cut lip, and at long last her golden eyes and flaming hair.

“Yer not… serious that the… the hero of Daxaria is… coming here… for…”

“Mr. Newhart, my name is Lady Katarina Ashowan. I apologize for not introducing myself sooner; however, we must go now.”

The urgency in her voice snapped the man out of his astonishment, though his eyes with their deep bags widened as he stood at attention.

“O-Of course, my Lady! Wh-When I heard that a noblewoman was found, I-I-I’m sorry, I thought yous was one of the ones that, that ran here to s-seduce Finkle a-a-a-an-”

Kat blinked confused before turning to stare at Sir Finkle. She raised a quizzical eyebrow. While she knew that the Knights had been notified of her and Alina’s kidnapping, she supposed not every commoner would be privy to the same information.

Were noblewomen throwing themselves at Sir Finkle regularly…? She tried not to laugh when she noticed the man’s blush.

“My Lady, if you are coming with us, we are going now, and we are not going to stop to rest until nightfall. Are you certain that-” Sir Finkle interrupted while clearing his throat uncomfortably and dropping his bright green eyes to the ground.

“Don’t worry about me, I can see in the dark, now, let’s move!” Kat began to head towards the village past the Knights, her strides long and her back straight. If she was tired after running the entire night, she didn’t show it. Sirs Finkle and Mistiv glanced at each other and each took off in her wake to catch up.

“M-My Lady!”

Kat and the Knights turned back around to face Melvin Newhart who stood wringing his cap between his two hands.

“I-It’d be my honor if ye’d take my mare.”

Kat grinned at the man, and then broke the spell of her commanding mature aura by skipping like a child excitedly over to the horse, mounting it in one quick motion and setting it off at a trot.

“Thaaaanks Melviiiiiin!”

***

Alina stared at the small grimy window of the hunting blind she had been thrust into beside Reese who was doing significantly better after a day where he had not been beaten by Roscoe. He even managed to sit up, drink, and eat… by the time dusk had fallen and their three abductors were outside huddling around a fire whispering amongst themselves, the bard leaned over to Alina, though he winced as he did so. He definitely had more than one broken rib.

“Princess, I’m worried that they might be trying to find a way to… unload us.”

Alina looked at the man sharply, her stomach jolting unpleasantly. “How do you mean?”

“They could try to sell us, or… you rather, in an effort to… lighten the baggage and the pressure of every armed man in Daxaria looking for you,” Reese began carefully.

“W-What like to… a brothel o-or-”

“I’m afraid I heard of them whispering about Zinferan slave traders when they presumed me unconscious. I don’t mean to make you even more frightened-”

“Too bad, you would’ve been congratulating yourself right now if you were,” Alina croaked, as her nails dug into her palms.

“I’m sorry. I only meant to… keep you informed. Just in case.”

Alina could feel her nose beginning to run as she fought off her tears.

She suddenly was missing Kat’s endless chattering a great deal…

“I- I understand that you mean to be considerate. Thank you.”

“Your Highness… they may not let me live long if they decide they’d like to wash their hands of us, and so… mind if I… tell you my story?”

Alina looked to Reese sharply, tears rising in her eyes as she stared at his battered and weakened form, his voice soft and his dark green eyes somehow still bright in the moonlight.

“I… was born to a mistress of a Knight. She was said to be the beauty of her town… it’s a town near Rollom actually. It’s called Ovin. There isn’t much to see there… a shrine to the Goddess, houses and farms, and of course… the Knight’s keep… my father’s.” A smile lightened Reese’s features as he thought of the town, his mind stretching back to days long gone.

“As beautiful as she was, my mother was… vain. She was also wildly unpredictable with her moods. The life and light of any room or party, and then bedridden for days. She loved me, but when a broken person loves you, it isn’t always expressed wholly, in my opinion.”

Alina reached out, and gingerly covered Reese’s hand with her own as she listened, offering quiet comfort.

“I began to enjoy singing because it could take my mind off of my worries for my mother, and eventually I found friends who enjoyed it the same way I did. The more we practiced and had fun together, the better we became, and suddenly I… I was in love. I fell in love with music and I fell in love with the lifestyle it brought. Making people feel loved and special, or frivolous, for a window of time…”

Reese closed his eyes, and leaned his head back on the rough wooden walls, his gaze floating to the ceiling as his smile widened, revealing one of his missing eye teeth.

“I’ve met the Zinferan Emperor and spent many nights drinking and carousing with him. I’ve seen every nook and cranny of Daxaria. I’ve seen a cook who was self-righteous and fearless… except when it came to risking the happiness of a woman he loved. I’ve seen war and peace, and music has guided me through it all. The happy songs, the sad, the fierce… I have lived a good life, and I even discovered that the journey music led me on to have thirty-two beautiful children.”

“I beg your pardon?” Alina sat up straighter, startled. “Did I hear correctly? Thirty-two children?”

“Yes, I had… quite a marvelous journey thanks to music. I have produced enough offspring to make a settlement, and Princess? They are all just so darn wonderful.”

“Did the Viscount know about this when he hired you?” The flat tone in Alina’s voice was not lost on the bard.

“Oh, he did, and believe me, you are taking it swimmingly by comparison, Your Highness. Truly!”

Alina’s mouth was suspended open as she blinked in dumbfounded surprise.

“Why in the world… did the Viscount think you would be appropriate as my teacher?!”

“Oh, it was Katarina Ashowan’s idea to hire me and the Viscount owed me a… a rather large debt.”

“Of course it was Kat’s idea…” Alina muttered more to herself. “What did you mean that the Viscount owed you? Was it a large sum of money?!” Alina slumped back in shock. What other insane secrets was the man going to reveal.

“Oh no, nothing as insignificant as that. No, he owes me because without my sparkling performance on a particular birthday party for your brother, Lady Katarina and Lord Tamlin Ashowan would not exist.”

“What in the world do you mean?” Alina demanded, her alarm making her voice sharp.

“Ah… it was something your brother told me actually. Your father and mother were laughing about it after sharing some drinks of Troivackian moonshine. He relayed the story to me when we crossed paths last time.”

“I still don’t understand-”

“Perhaps ask… maybe not your father. Hm. Tell me, do you have any kindly old women folk around you who might explain to you the facts of life–”

“Oh Gods, please stop talking,” Alina didn’t like the direction the discussion was taking, and immediately began thinking how she really didn’t need to know her best friend’s conception story…

“Right. Well… I suppose that brings us to the end of my tale… though I had been hoping for a bit more of a poetic finish there… it’s your turn.”

“My turn to what?” Alina asked wearily while pulling her knees closer so that she could rest her forehead upon them.

“It is your turn to tell me your story. Your interpretation of your life thus far because… who knows what meaning or theme it could take from here on… sometimes it is good to have perspective.”

Alina didn’t answer right away.

Instead she looked back up out the window, and felt a strange quiet in herself that brought both an odd clarity as well as tears in her eyes.

“Right… my… my story…”

It was strange because in that moment, she suddenly realized that, not once had she ever honestly told her whole story.

She had been surrounded by people who loved her and would have listened with all their hearts, but somehow that made it harder to share.

Yet, sitting in a cold blind with a man who was little more than a stranger (and a lot more promiscuous than she wanted to know), she felt as though it was the perfect time.

So, taking a slow fortifying breath, Alina allowed herself to speak and for once not think about how her words would be heard or received, she only focused on giving them her truth.