Saorise had only heard back from her father a week after she’d sent her message. The East was a vast domain, and despite the skill of their messengers, it still took time. It had been a fortnight since she’d heard that message, but now, another message had arrived that morning.

The Wendolan King had passed, and Crown Prince Peter Octavious Westfold had ascended the throne. There had been no immediate moves from the Wendolan army, but Saorise knew that they could not keep that up for long, the borders of Wendolan were getting restless, and soon the new King would be called to prove whether he was worthy of his position. Her father had decided to keep the army where it was until the Wendolan army made their move, and Saorise had supported the decision.

However, just three days later, when her message would have barely arrived at the front lines, she received another message from her father.

The Wendolan army was retreating. Not all at once, but in regiments belonging to different houses. The Internal Strife of Wendolan’s court had clearly begun. Still, her father had said he would remain for another week and watch the movements of the army.

The people at the Caramort keep had heard the news, and they readied themselves to reclaim the land that had been taken from them. They were eager to go back home and have their refugee status revoked.

The week passed with continuous reports from her father to keep her updated, though she was receiving the news nearly four days after it had occurred.

Finally, a report came in that her instincts screamed at her were unusual. Parts of the Wendolan army were breaking off periodically to travel northeast and southwest, parallel to the River Arnoc. Her father and brothers had assumed they were plundering parties as they consisted of no more than 50 to 100 men each. In an army as large as fifty thousand, it was an insignificant number. But still, it disturbed Saorise. Not because they were plundering. After all, if that was indeed the case then her father and brothers along with the eastern armies could wipe them out easily. No, what disturbed her was the number of these parties.

Even if the Wendolan army was unfamiliar with the terrain, they shouldn’t need to send so many parties out, especially if they were only plundering.

She told her father her suspicions, but the day after she sent it another letter arrived, her father and brothers had advanced over the River Arnoc and taken back three territories in a single day. There were twenty conquered territories in the region that the Wendolans had occupied, three territories was quite a number considering the size of the territories.

Yet again, Saorise felt disturbed.

She went to the only place where she felt free to think. The tree over the cliff.

Sitting in one of the forks comfortably, Saorise thought on the war effort and the happiness of the people. After all, they were aware of the three territories that had been retaken and were already celebrating the victory of their Eastern brethren in pushing out the Wendolan invaders. Saorise had been thinking on it for days however, and she had grown tired with the stress. It was hard when there was no one to consult. When she had to wait days for replies from her brothers and father. She could have consulted with the other Eastern nobles, but most of them were with the war effort, and the rest all supported an advance to strike back against the invaders.

Saorise was stirred from an unintentional nap several hours later when the light from the sunset pierced through the leaves. Saorise yawned and stretched. She felt somewhat refreshed from the nap but her mind still pondered. As she shifted, she noticed a weight in her lap. She looked down to find a golden coloured fruit there. It looked to be a cross between an apple and a peach, though it was not a colour she was familiar with for either fruit. As Saorise appraised it, she remembered that a trade emissary from the south would have arrived in the past day, so it was probably from amongst their stock as the south always had exotic fruits to broaden her palette. She had no idea who had been brave enough to leave it in her lap though. She’d knew of nobody else that was daring enough to climb out over the cliff, but she was grateful. Saorise rose and made her way back to the Keep, biting into the fruit as she did. It tasted divine, and she had to remind herself to ask after what fruit it was when she met Helen

Saorise had only just arrived in her study when a messenger rushed in.

“Lady Saorise, the plundering parties…they’ve turned around. They’re headed back towards the Eastern armies,” the messenger reported breathlessly.

Saorise’s eyes had widened in fear. She’d sent out extra scouts to keep an eye on the parties, and now what she feared was occurring.

“My father needs to know, immediately. The armies need to cross back over the river as soon as possible,” said Saorise.

“He should know already, my lady, however, he had already moved forward several territories in an effort to catch up with the retreating Wendolan army,” said the messenger.

Saorise’s eyes narrowed. They’d been had. She’d forgotten the greatest fact when she’d been advising her father. They all had. The enemy mastermind was not the dukes, or the courts, there had always been a possibility that it was in fact the new king himself. Prince Isiah, who was leading the battle against the East, had not seemed like the type to act on his own in the past three years. He was young and inexperienced, and had never made a move without the guidance of the Dukes. Saorise had forgotten about the new King. She cursed her neglect and turned to the messenger, “Prepare the reserve forces, have General Lowan lead them to the River Arnoc. He must not advance beyond there, but must do what he can to secure the retreat of the main army. And get another messenger, the fastest you can find. My father needs to be aware as soon as possible if he is not already”.

The messenger bowed quickly, “Yes, my Lady”.

Then he left swiftly to find the appropriate parties.

Saorise sighed, sitting down at her father’s desk chair and closing her eyes. She’d been stupid, and made an irreversible mistake. She could not let it happen again.

After a moment of respite, she sat up straight again, she needed to prepare the Caramort Keep for war.

Helen entered then, her gaze worried. Saorise stood as she did, starting to round the table only to be hit by a wave of dizziness.

“My Lady?” asked Helen.

Saorise caught herself on the desk, but it was not enough. She collapsed on the rug beside her father’s desk, the seed of the strange fruit she’d eaten clutched in her hand.