Being a Royal wasn't easy. 

Chosen Heir Amara wondered how Prince Damien put up with it.

As she lacked knowledge in many necessary fields, her head was being pounded with information. The King taught her the working of the espionage and the revenue system; under the Queen, she learnt politics, history and etiquette.  The Supreme Sorceress taught her combat magic and she was to learn the art of warfare under the First Warrior. 

Amara's head was heavy as she walked toward the training grounds. It was one of those parts of the castle she had never been to. 

Despite her initial fatigue, she was excited for she was going to meet the  First Battalion which was led by the Frisir. They were the legendary group of warriors whose skills could not be surpassed by any male or female alive. They were the best of the best. Another fact that set them apart was that the battalion consisted only of women. 

When she reached the grounds, she was surprised to see that it was not covered with snow, the reason was that warriors took turns to shovel the snow. 

Her nerves jingled as she took in the sight. Warriors were scattered throughout the entire field pushing themselves to the edge with the weapons they wielded. 

It was a stunning sight. 

'Princess Amara!' Felicia's voice drew her attention. 

Princess. 

She resisted the urge to say,  Oh, please, you need not call me that- because the Queen told her that it would mislead people to believe that she was their friend and not an authority figure.

You are not their friend. You are their leader. They should see you as such or they will not hesitate to pull you down with mindless favours. 

The Frisir was in full armour and was surrounded by a couple of bulky women. Truth be told, they were a little intimidating. 

'Good evening,' she greeted them with a smile.

The women warriors assembled and went down on their knees, their fists pressed over their heart, 'It is an honour to be in your presence, Princess Amara.'

Outside the walls of the Throne Hall, Amara was betrothed to Damien and that was what made her the Princess. Except for a selected few, no one knew that she was the Chosen Heir. 

'The honour is mine. Please, rise.'

The Queen hadn't said anything against being nice.

Felicia gave Amara a nod before she ordered her battalion to go back to training. 

'Princess, we will start with a simple weapon. I suggest you take up archery.'

Archery? 

'It will train your back and arms to hold a close-combat weapon, like a sword or a long-range weapon, like a javelin. It will also help you with your stance and train your leg muscles.' 

Amara nodded as she followed Felicia into a scaffolding where all the weapons were piled up. She watched as the other woman assessed bows of various shapes and sizes before extending an unadorned one toward her, 'Hold it and tell me what you think of it.'

Having no knowledge of it, she simply took it in her palms. It was a wooden bow that felt very heavy in her hands. 'I-it's alright?' She cringed as soon as her words came out. 

Felicia chuckled, 'You'll get used to it.'

'So, uh,' Amara played with the bowstring by plucking it with her free hand, 'what am I going to do first?'

'You're going to change into something comfortable and then we are going to run around the ground twice. After that, we will start with the routine stretches and then I am going to teach you how to position yourself.'

That was a lot and quite honestly, Amara was terrified- but she gathered her skirts, 'Alright, let's do this.' 

The whole ordeal was embarrassing. While her intellect was being praised by the King and the Queen, her body coordination was criticized, not by the Frisir but by herself. 

Despite having given birth a few days ago, the First Warrior could run faster than her, even in full armour. 

Amara tried not to think too much of it but it annoyed her. 

When she was done with two full rounds of the training grounds, she could barely hold herself straight. Her hands supported her upper body weight as she tried to catch her breath. Her clothes had hideous patches of sweat but it did not bother her. 'How- How did I do?' She asked in between her breaths. 

Felicia looked at her and smiled, 'You were alright.'

Alright?

Amara could take that.

The other woman spoke, sternly, 'We shall now do some stretches.'

I guess alright isn't enough.

Before they could continue, a messenger arrived. 'Greetings, Princess Amara,' he bowed at her and then at Felicia, 'Frisir.'  After greeting them, he relaid the message he had brought, 'Pardon me for the interruption, but the King requests Princess Amara's presence in the Throne Hall.'

Just like that, Amara was saved from further exhaustion. She dismissed the messenger. 

'I will see you tomorrow,' she faced the Frisir. 

Felicia nodded. 

Amara left the training grounds and then headed for her room where she took a quick shower. She could not go present herself in front of the King in such a crude manner. 

It was a highlighted point in the Queen's etiquette lessons. 

You must strive to be heard, but first, your authority must be established in silence. 

It was fascinated Amara when she realized that the Queen was right. Dressing up like a Royal was one of the ways one could do that.

'Amara, I am glad you could join us,' the King smiled when he saw her enter. As the door shut behind her, she mirrored his expression. 

Before him, stood three men and two women. They were spies who had come from the Demon Kingdom, bearing news. 

They surrounded the map of the Dithrai Kingdom which was neatly spread across the table. 

The spies gave her a bow before one of the men began to speak, 'As I was telling you, Your Highness, the Demon King is dead and Queen Seyanora accuses our Kingdom of it.' 

Amara could read the look on the King's face. 

It was simply ridiculous.

'How sure are you about this?' King Samuel asked. 

'The Demon King's body was paraded on the streets for the subjects to pay their respects,' one of the women replied. 

'What she says is true, my King,' the man continued, 'It was a glass coffin.' 

The spies glanced at each other uncomfortably. 

'What is it?' the King asked reading their expression. 

Their leader's voice dropped down to a whisper, 'The King's corpse, Your Highness.'

'What of it?'

'It was headless.'

Amara gasped. 

'Queen Seyanora accuses our Kingdom stealing his head too.'

There was a strange silence before old monarch let out an exasperated sigh. 

Amara decided to seize the opportunity to ask her queries, 'Any word on the Prince?'

The man shook his head, his eyes downcast, 'I am sorry, my Princess. We could not find anything about Prince Damien.'

'What of the King's demand on that precious thing he accused us of stealing?'

'No word on that either, Princess Amara.'

Another round of silence echoed in the large Hall. 

'If that is all,' the King spoke, 'please, make yourselves comfortable.'

The spies bowed in unison. 

'Thank you, my King, Princess Amara.' 

As soon as they left the room, the King rubbed his fingers against his forehead, 'Everything is falling apart, Amara.' 

Amara could find no words to comfort him. The situation was delicate. They could be on the brink of war and there was still no sign of Damien. She did not want to be in a position to choose between her subjects and her love. 

Nevertheless, they had to be prepared. 

'We should fortify the borders, deploy more warriors. If the Demon Queen accuses us of murder, it is likely that the Demon Army will attack,' she voiced her thoughts. 

He nodded, agreeing with her, 'You're right, Amara.' There a slight hint of a smile but it faded behind the lines of worry. 

Not many words were exchanged but she knew what he was thinking about. The first war and snatched his firstborn from him- and his second son, Prince Damien, had immersed himself into the feeling of revenge. 

'We shall meet later, Amara, when I summon a Council.' 

She bowed, 'Of course.' 

Leaving the Hall, she dragged herself toward the laboratory where she practised her combat magic under Phoebe's supervision till supper. Even after supper, she couldn't rest. She had to spend her time learning politics.

Sluggishly, she headed toward the Royal Library where the Queen was waiting for her. 

'Long day, Amara?' the older woman asked with a quirked eyebrow. 

Amara chuckled wanly, 'Yes, my Queen.' Her lips were then drawn into a grim line, 'Did you hear?' She didn't even have to explain. 

The older woman bobbed her head imperceptibly. 'Yes, I did.' 

Before Amara could ask her any more questions, she marched toward the table and picked some transcripts, 'These are important papers.'

'Are those notes on politics?' 

She chuckled, 'No.'

The younger woman was relieved. 'Oh.' 

'But these are very valuable,' The Queen handed her the documents. 

When Amara glanced at the scripts, she gasped. 

Only one person could have such a smooth and elegant writing. 

Prince Damien. 

Frantically, she flipped through the pages. 

It was all his. 

All of it. 

As far as she knew, it wasn't the Dithraiyan. 'What is it?' She asked the Queen. 

'Damien's research before his first battle.' 

Amara realized that she was holding was the most precious treasure in the history of the Dithrai lineage. 

She pressed against her chest. 'I am to read all of it?'

'Yes, but in confidence.'

All the exhaustion left her. 'Thank you, my Queen.'

Queen Revanna waved her hand dismissively, 'No need for all that, Amara. You are family.' She pursed her lips, 'If you find something, please do let me know.' 

'I will.' 

'You may go now.'