Brodwyn stood atop one of the tallest towers in Liofeld. The railing kept her secure against the billowing wind. Despite the frigid air, the sun shone bright on an otherwise beautiful day.

  Even still, she frowned.

  The capital city of Welkia was deserving of the title and had a different sense of grace than the other spectacular places she had visited or lived in before. But there was still a wall, and a web of politics.

  How I had enjoyed the journey here. The rain, mud, and adventure. Royce had been right, and simply stepping away from that cage for a mere moment had reawakened it all within me.

  Eira was next to her, also gazing at the scenery, though quick glances were thrown her way to ensure she was safe. That was heartening for Brodwyn, that her old friend, her old role model, was here beside her.

  Her teacher was around, ethereal as mist, like always. Pinning down her existence was difficult; one moment you would speak to her, then the next she would be gone, on some mission. That was part of the enjoyment of her company, however. Even knowing that the Truthsayer was here, supporting her, was too much for her heart.

  All of her new friends had been so incredibly welcoming. After her coldness at the palace, she did not know if she deserved such kindness. Mav was an odd but funny fellow, a strange man from a strange land. Emerii had welcomed her as a sister would. Then there was the Promised One, a man who met the legends.

  Royce was a wolf hidden in the image of a young man. Far more assertive than his boyish and immature appearance would let on. He had been the driving force behind her newfound freedom, and even if she must return to Zernau in the future, she was grateful for the breath of fresh air.

  Brymoor was… Brymoor. She tried her best to forget he was around, to annihilate his existence from her mind. Brodwyn clung to what her brother used to be, or at least the ideal she had seen him as when they were children. But he was no longer that boy, and to her, no longer a person. A change here or there did nothing to alleviate his betrayals. Even if Eira had come around mildly, she never would. Her dear brother was dead, and only the Lord Prince of Lenda remained.

  Brodwyn sighed deeply. Freedom at last, but once again stranded in a Drajin city.

  “What is the matter, Your Grace?” Eira asked, concern plain on her face.

  Her lips curved slightly into a sad smile. “I was just thinking about what I should be doing.”

  “Anything you want, Your Grace.”

  Brodwyn playfully nudged Eira’s shoulder. “Would you stop calling me that? Do I need to remind you to call me by name again?”

  Eira chuckled for the first time. “That was always a spot of contention, wasn’t it?”

  “Rightfully so. Oh, Eira, even this far away from my husband and home Kingdom, my duty still weighs heavily.”

  “I would advise you to forget it, but I know you would not listen.”

  “Especially coming from you, it would sound like the words of a hypocrite.” She laughed lightly. “I do think I have an idea of what I want now, though. Liofeld steals my breath away differently than Lenda and Znseruff. The small villages we came to when traveling. The old road of Perowyn’s Crossing. It made me want to see it all. I don’t want to stay here long; I want to travel with everyone. Only after, do I think I’ll be able to return home.”

  “Of course, Brodwyn. I will not leave your side again, at least not until you request it. I cannot speak for the rest, but at least believe my words. Our bond will not be broken again.”

  Brodwyn reached out and embraced Eira tightly. Oh, how I have missed you, dear sister. For that is what this is, is it not? We may not be of blood, but you are most certainly my elder sister. Would that make my teacher a second mother? Perhaps, but she is almost as absent as my deceased mother.

  Eira returned the hug, and for the first time in a long time, Brodwyn felt safe and content.

  Eira doubted her words. Would she truly be able to stand by Brodwyn’s side to the end? Even now, she was not there next to her. Artowen, Royce, and Emerii had whisked her away on an adventure to a separate section of the castle. She could have followed, but even with her renewed duty, joy was not a sun that would shine on her.

  It would not be long before the evening meal. Surely the band would reconvene soon and enjoy each other’s company. She would put on a face for that, focus her mind on what mattered to divert her attention from the unhealed wounds that festered.

  She walked the halls of the castle like a guard, though she was not of Welkia. Making her rounds like she was doing something of import, she sniggered at herself.

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  At the corner, a familiar face. As displaced as she was, maybe even more so, was Mav. She retracted that thought as she approached, for even if his laid-back attitude was feigned, he fit in far more than she did.

  “Ah, Eira. It is good to see you on such a fine day,” He smiled warmly as he addressed her.

  “Likewise, Mav. Are you enjoying your first time in Welkia?” She asked.

  A noncommittal shrug. “It is the same as other Dradris Kingdoms, and different at the same time. I find I’m conflicted at whether I dislike being stared at all the time or whether I appreciate the attention.”

  “Knowing you, I would assume the latter.”

  “Only if the attention in question is from beauties such as yourself.”

  “Did you not go with the others? On the grand tour of their home castle?”

  “I prefer to scout my own terrain.” Mav looked away and muttered something to himself.

  It was one of his strange chants, a personal charm that was meant to ward against disaster. At least that was her interpretation and explanation from Idwyn. In many ways, it appeared to be simple ramblings.

  “Besides,” He continued, “I doubt we will be staying here long. Obligations will call us away. The Band of the Promised One does not belong to Welkia alone.”

  “I well know that. As for me, it has been since I was a child when I was last in Liofeld. It is quite nostalgic for me.”

  “I hope that sense familiarity quiets your heart, my lady.”

  She shook her head with a slight smile. “Always the smooth talker. Be careful, that can be a recipe for disaster.”

  He passed her with a mischievous grin, but said not another word. At least he treats me normally, despite all that has happened. Even Brodwyn walks carefully around my feelings.

  Where was she going with her life? What would it look like when Brodwyn no longer needed her? When that inevitable day came, would she lean on another person for strength?

  Eira still hated what she was forced to do, but for now, she would put up with it. After they forged peace for the land, and everyone else was content and happy, she would confront herself. Only then.

  She smiled as she set out to find something to occupy her time. At least she could push the pain aside for now. She was thankful to her new friends for granting her that much grace.

  The moon hung in the night sky. Mav knew it was the same moon he would gaze at when he was in his home Kingdom of Bardoo, but viewed from a new angle. The same sphere in the sky, seen by everyone.

  The evening meal had been fun. Perhaps they were all on a high from completing some of their enormous task, but it was warranted, in his opinion. One must always accept the gifts their accomplishments gave.

  He lay with his back against a stone wall, a lazy expression on his features. In fact, he believed they deserved even more leisure. Basking in the moonlight, he chuckled to himself.

  He and Royce had become quite the pair, bringing laughter to the entire table. Brymoor still intimidated him, and it seemed the band as a whole had not fully accepted their enemy turned friend.

  Brodwyn was different; one would assume that she had been a founding member of their little group. The way her innocent sense of adventure spurred conversation was something to behold. Eira smiled when in Her Grace’s presence, too. That was good.

  Mav thought of their last mission. He could not fight the self-dissatisfaction that brewed within. He had been of little use in Zernau when he had sworn to assist his friends, the people who had accepted someone of such a different background. And he had done nothing. He used their poor position as an excuse to lie back and ignore everything.

  He wished he could have the best day tomorrow.

  The easiest day.

  A prayer to God in heaven that he would feel only happiness on the morrow sun.

  In the distance, on a tower with no visible entrance, Mav noticed a figure. The golden braided hair could never be mistaken. Lady Idwyn was under the same moon.

  Deep shadows masked many of her features, but Mav could still see the ephemeral gaze she levied at the moon. Was he unnoticed? Unlikely, she certainly knew he was there. Her intuition was sharp. Distant as ever, he wished to make his patron’s wishes come true as well.

  Steeling himself, Mav was determined to work even harder.

  But first, a nap. May he be disturbed and awoken abruptly.

  A crack of light on the horizon. Soaked in sweat, Emerii pushed her body from the ground, then brought it back to repeat the process. Once finished, she sprinted around the courtyard.

  Quiet, alone. Only a scattering of servants here and there, with the occasional guard on patrol. Soon, the training grounds would liven, but for now, she was left alone with her thoughts.

  Yes, she knew what she must become. The paths forward required her strength, and she would become the strongest.

  This was only the briefest reprieve. Soon, they would be busy once again, a myriad of impossible and strange tasks flung in front of them. They could have to overcome them if their future could be secured.

  A new presence entered the training grounds. A trainee arriving early, or perhaps the Lord Captain coming to hound her into service once again. She could not hide her surprise upon locking eyes with the man who approached.

  “I would not have expected to see you here, Lord Prince,” Emerii said.

  “Diligence is a cornerstone,” Brymoor responded. “While rest is important, so is continual pursuit of martial perfection.”

  “I did not see you train once in the Zsneruff palace, though.”

  He snickered. “Showing your efforts to someone you considered an enemy would be a fruitless endeavor. Unless I was trying to show my weakness, which I assure you was not the case.”

  “Perhaps, or maybe you are simply spurred on now by your loss to Arty.”

  He smirked. “Shall we test that theory of yours, then?” He went to the training swords, dulled weapons meant for sparring.

  Emerii’s eyes narrowed, but she then shrugged. “I hear you are quite the warrior. What better way to deepen our bonds than to have you seeking guidance from me?”

  She procured her own training sword, and with that, their mock duel commenced.

  It could have been anyone, but it was indisputable that she needed a sparring partner. Someone of Brymoor’s skill was good as well, though someone at her own level would have been more desirable.

  As they battled, she danced and smiled. Finally, she could see the glimmers of what Arty saw in the man. She trusted her chosen friend’s intuition, but that did not mean she had accepted the Lord Prince who had sought the death of those closest to her. That did not mean she did not think that he would not betray them.

  His earlier pompous attitude had been decimated, though he was still prideful. True to his nature as a prince. However, in his sword strikes, she felt his trepidation, his true feelings. The hard work that had gone into his technique and body. A man shrouded in airs.

  She smirked. Seeing his honest self was not so bad.

  It still did not take much time to put him on his ass, though.