Lena spent the remainder of her afternoon with her handmaidens, preparing for the welcoming feast. The twenty news gowns her mother had commissioned to earn her cooperation were spectacular beyond words. They had been laid out as a surprise when she returned from the king's tower. Six were meant for daywear, while the other fourteen were specifically for their evening meals. The evening meal was considered a nightly formal affair, and the nobles who dined in the great hall took every opportunity to dress impressively.

For tonight, her mother had a special gown set aside. It was the most stunning of the bunch, with layers of sweeping silken skirts that fanned out behind her. "I can hardly breathe in this, let alone move," she complained whilst dressing. "Does she expect me to be a statue all night?" Avra, Cora, and Theresa chuckled but said nothing as they continued to tighten the strings of her corset.

The gown's fabric was made from silver and royal blue silks. The entire neckline was embellished with tiny, multifaceted glass beads that sparkled as she moved. And while it was breathtaking, both literally and figuratively, the front was cut a little low for her tastes. "I look like a harlot," she muttered when she studied her reflection.

"You are nearly eighteen, Lena," said Margaret, who watched her handmaidens work. "There is nothing wrong with allowing the opposite sex a small peek at your bosom." Margaret winked.

Lena's jaw dropped in mock surprise. "Kenna! You of all people should be appalled."

The corner of Margaret's mouth turned up. "You would never see me in something like that, dear. But I am not young. Nor am I the princess. Flaunt it while you can."

"Kenna!" What had gotten into her? Margaret merely smiled and watched on, fanning herself every so often as she sipped from her goblet of wine.

While Lena sat for her face and hair, her handmaidens fluttered about, trying to get everything perfect. As they worked, they gossiped about each of the Drengr hopefuls, asking for detailed descriptions of their appearance. Lena hadn't much to give, other than a few snippets about the ones she liked the least. Specifically about those who had spoken down to her.

"Perhaps they were just tired," said Cora, twisting one of Lena's braids tightly into a band of hair that wrapped around her head. Cora had insisted on being the one to do her hair for the evening. Both Cora and Theresa were magicians when it came to hair, while Avra was better with face makeup and fashion. "Besides," Cora added, "perhaps they won't be so bad once you get to know them."

"I doubt it," Lena snorted, pinning Cora's reflection with her gaze in the vanity's mirror. "Either way, I will need help tonight when I make my introductions."

"Whatever for?" Cora asked.

"To learn the their names, of course. I cannot manage it all on my own. You ought to know that." As a rule, handmaidens went everywhere with the mistresses they served. At feasts and parties, they were not quite so clingy. "Tonight, I want you by my side."

Just before the evening was to begin, Queen Amara dropped by Lena's apartment with a final surprise, presenting her with a new tiara. After fussing over it, her handmaidens finished up with her hair and placed it upon her head.

"How beautiful you look," said Kenna Margaret, stepping closer for a good look. "It was meant for you."

Lena's mother stepped forward and adjusted it slightly, gently caressing Lena's cheek. "It suits you well, my dear."

The tiara was a comfortable fit, made simply of woven silvery substance that gleamed like starlight. The front came to a point over her forehead and held three small diamonds. "It was made by the Sprites," said the queen, "commissioned by Queen Isabella for Princess Irelia."

Lena gasped, looking at her mother with wide eyes. "Truly?!" Queen Isabella was something of a legend to the people of Dragonwall.

"Truly." Her mother beamed back at her.

"But...that makes it six thousand years old! How...how do you have it?"

"The same way I have all the jewelry worn by former royalty." Lena knew all about her mother's jewel closet closely guarded in the king's tower. "I found it tucked away in a special box with Princess Irelia's name and a little note that said it had never been worn."

"Never? Not even by the princess?" Lena fell quiet, stunned. She turned her head to the side and studied her reflection, noticing the way the diamonds glittered with the slightest movement. It was so very different from her typical tiaras. And with the way her hair had been pinned up, she looked exotic.

"The note said that the tiara was commissioned shortly before the princess died. I strongly felt that you should have it."

"Oh, Mama!" Lena jumped from her vanity stool and threw her arms about her mother's neck, kissing her before the queen departed. Then it was time for the evening meal.

The dining hall within the Great Keep was the third most impressive architectural feat of the kingdom. Lena considered the second to be the King's Court, where his throne was located. She considered the first to be the keep's secret passageway system. Its vast number of hidden doors, halls, and underground tunnels had offered her years of possibilities, years of mischief and fun. What was even better, few knew of its existence.

The keep's dining hall had vaulted ceilings with high windows that let in plenty of light throughout the day. For the evening meal, the hanging chandlers were filled with hundreds of candles that had been lit by magic, no doubt a single word that made the task easy. Lena didn't know much about magic for she hadn't been blessed with it as some rare female Drengr offspring tended to be.

This hall seated some three hundred patrons at rows of long trestle tables, already full. They were arranged perpendicularly to the head table, which was elevated upon a dais. Aside from the royal family consisting of her father, her mother, and herself, only six were permitted to sit at the head table. These six sat three to the king's right, and three to the princess's left, with the queen framed in the middle. The king's six Drengr Fairtheoir were his royal bodyguards, his brothers in all but blood, Shields sworn to protect the royal family.

As per her mother's advice, Lena had arrived later than everyone else. The doors had not yet closed—she still had a few minutes to prepare. As a rule, the evening meal awaited no one, and once the doors were closed, none were permitted entry. The rule had been set by Queen Isabella after too many dinner disruptions and was still observed to this day.

Lena stood with her handmaidens outside the entryway, just hidden from view. Her kenna had already gone inside some time ago. "Just take a deep breath," Theresa whispered, brushing a stray strand of hair from Lena's face. "Everything will be all right." Lena nodded, swallowing against her dry throat before taking several deep breaths. Her heart hammered against her chest.

"And make sure you stand up straight." Cora grabbed hold of Lena's shoulders, forcing them back. "You know how you forget about your posture when you're nervous. It's unbecoming of a lady." Lena nodded again, still trying to take deep breaths.

"Oh, leave her alone!" Avra swatted the other two away before taking Lena's hand in her own. "You'll do just fine. The room will be so shocked to see how beautiful you look, it won't matter what you do, will it?" She kissed the back of Lena's hand before dropping it. "Besides, you only have to walk to the end of the aisle." Then she winked.

Lena smiled. "I suppose you're right, and the hopefuls will be so surprised to see me."

"Exactly!" Avra smiled widely, leaving Lena feeling more confident than she'd first felt. She loved her handmaidens. They were but a few years older than she, and made for great friends. Sometimes she pretended they were sisters, for she dearly wished she had sisters.

"Well, here we go." She placed herself within the entryway. Her handmaidens assembled in formation behind her.

It took a moment or two, but as soon as her mother and father spotted her, they stood. On cue, everyone else did the same. Every gaze in the hall settled upon her. There were gasps of surprise that left her cheeks burning from the attention. She enjoyed pranks done in secret. But this? It was almost too much.

"Go on, Princess." Cora prodded her, spurring her forward. She moved down the center aisle, her ladies following in her wake. Whispers followed them. "Look at her gown!" And, "I need one like it."

She kept her eyes focused upon her beaming parents, ignoring everything around her. Keep breathing, she told herself. Just keep breathing. Each time she placed her feet, she was careful to keep from stepping on the hem of her gown. Imagine if she tumbled in front of everyone! It would not do.

The Drengr hopefuls were seated together nearest to the head table. She let her guard down and glanced at them in passing. How could she not? She was rewarded with wide eyes and open mouths. Who was this polished woman parading before them? Surely not the barbarian pirate who greeted them earlier?! A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, threatening to break free. Yes, they were surprised. Oh, how she loved her wicked trick. It was definitely the best so far.

When she reached the head table, she gave her mother a reassuring smile. Her father winked at her—a job well done. Each of the Drengr Fairtheoir greeted her with bowed heads. Ramar was her favorite. Tonight he, along with the other five, wore livery of gold and green. His velvet tunic clung to his muscular build, accentuating his strength.

He stepped away from the others and around the table, taking her arm to escort her up the stairs of the dais. "I think you owe me a good story," he whispered before pushing her chair in. Her face remained emotionless except for her flaring nostrils.

Ramar returned to his seat while her handmaidens went to stand with the queen's ladies in waiting. Then the queen took her seat and the entire hall followed. Only her father remained standing—he was going to give a speech. Lena's breath quickened in anticipation. King Cornan loved speeches. "Good evening to all." His deep voice filled the hall. "Our princess is nearing her eighteenth name day—an occasion to be celebrated."

A cacophony of clapping and cheers broke the silence. Shouts of, "Congratulations!" and, "About time!" followed.

Her father smiled and nodded before continuing. "Our governing Charter written by the races of Dragonwall clearly states that the princess has until her eighteenth name day to find her mate. That mate will rule by her side. Together they will continue the bloodline of the Drengr monarchy. Therefore, I have invited every unmated Drengr to our keep!"

The crowd released more cheers. Some clanked their cups against the tables. Lena glanced over at the Drengr hopefuls. They looked especially smug in light of the crowd's attention. A frown pulled at her lips. She was reminded of what she had to do over the next two weeks.

Briv sat to her immediate left. She leaned over and whispered, "Anyone promising? If you ask me, they all look like greedy little urchins."

His gaze followed hers, flicking from Drengr to Drengr. A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. "What makes you say that, Princess?" His lips barely moved.

Her father continued speaking. "Over the next two weeks, our princess will get to know each of our guests." Lena groaned, tempted to sink lower in her seat. Instead, she kept her posture rigid. "At the finale, we will host a ceremony in the arena. Princess Lena will touch the scales of each hopeful. If a bond exists, it will be discovered!" Deafening cheers marked the end of the king's speech.

He took his seat and the procession of food began. In the meantime, the royal musicians silently waiting in the corner of the hall began playing. Everyone was free to talk amongst one another, and the noise levels grew.

It was a succulent feast, albeit awkward. Every time she looked up to assess her new guests, she found more than one pair of eyes upon her. She did her best to ignore them, distracting herself instead with her own tablemates.

The three Shields to her left were eager to hear about her wicked trick that afternoon. It was Ramar who spoke first. "Is it true, Lena, that you pulled a sword upon them, demanding they leave at once else you would gut them?" His eyes sparkled as he leaned around the others to get a good look at her. He knew she didn't have a sword.

"Is that what the gossips are saying?" She feigned surprise. "Gods! The rumors sound better than the actual story." Even still, she gave them the details of all that had happened, including the part about changing back into her formal gown before Queen Amara's arrival. That alone had them in fits.

"Perhaps," said Briv, wiping his eyes, "you should have removed the clothing littering the floor before Amara arrived."

Lena laughed too and shrugged. "Even still, I think it was my best prank yet."

When the formal portion of the feast was over, desserts were brought out. Everyone began abandoning their seats to mingle among friends, moving from table to table in good conversation. Some nobles made their way over to the Drengr guests for introductions. Others came up to the royal family to pay their respects.

Before long, the hall was a chaotic mess of conversationalists. Some patrons had become so drunk that they took up the hands of various ladies to dance in the empty aisles. This was when Lena's father turned to her with eyebrows raised. "Lena?" he said, prompting her. "It is time. Perhaps have some more wine so that you might soften that expression of yours."

"Yes, Father," she mumbled. Maybe he was correct. She presented her goblet to the cupbearer who topped it off. Then she drank deeply. The effects did not take long, for she was not fond of the stuff and rarely drank. Maybe it was time to change that. Gods only knew she was going to need a bit of liquid courage throughout the next two weeks.

"Wish me luck," she muttered to Briv and the others. He jumped up to pull out her chair. As she descended the dais, her handmaidens jumped into action, taking up their positions just behind her. Many of the Drengr hopefuls also noticed and took the opportunity to place themselves confidently before her. It seemed that each intended to be the first to greet her.

She thought more highly of those who stood back, displaying patience instead of a desperate need to be first. It came as no surprise that the two who had spoken out earlier were amongst the eager ones. The first was the one she particularly disliked, with the dark hair and green eyes. He closed in on her immediately. "Good evening, Princess. Please allow me to formally introduce myself. My name is Raff." He bowed deeply.

She curtsied, though she would have preferred to stomp on his foot and disappear. "What a pleasure it is, Raff." It was hard to keep sarcasm from seeping into her voice.

He nodded. "I hope, Princess, that you will excuse my behavior earlier. I was tired from my long journey and surprised to be turned away. The way I treated you was not respectful." As he said this, she felt Cora pinch her arm as if to say, "Told you so."

Lena smiled sweetly, though it did not reach her eyes. "It is forgiven. If you had known my true identity, I am confident that you wouldn't have responded as you did."

"Aye. Had I known..."

"Allow me to introduce my handmaidens." As she gave him their names, she wondered how he treated his inferiors. It was unfortunate that she had promised to give each Drengr hopeful a fighting chance. If she had it her way, she would have dismissed him immediately.

He greeted Avra, Cora, and Theresa with cordiality, though she was sure it was all for show. And when they finished with that, she filled the awkward silence by asking about his journey and the fort he hailed from.

"You are very kind to inquire, Princess." He bowed his head before continuing. "My journey was uneventful, though tiring. I hail from Fort Edge."

"Ah! A northerner," she said, pretending to be interested. "Is it true there are giants in those parts?"

"None that I have seen, Princess Lena. But there are tales of them, great ice giants that come from the north beyond the range."

"Amazing! Perhaps some other time you can tell me about them. For now, I must continue on to the others." She nodded to her handmaidens, preparing to move away.

"Begging your pardon, Princess, but before you go I wished to ask, might we take a walk tomorrow through the royal garden? I am told it is spectacular. Moreover, I promise to be an open book about northern giants and such."

She considered his question, desperate for an excuse—any excuse—to turn him down. Perhaps it was better to get the worst of it over quickly. "How kind of you to ask. Very well. I am available after tomorrow's midday meal."

His hazel eyes sparkled with smug satisfaction and she hated him all the more for it. He fancied himself a great success, winning time with her before any of the others. "Excellent! Most excellent. I will meet you at the garden's entrance tomorrow then."

Saying nothing more, she curtsied before moving away. A sudden idea came to mind that left her smiling. These Drengr needed nicknames to make matters more bearable. She could already think of one rather fitting for Raff. Raff the Ruthless, for he had no concern for others besides himself. He meant to have the crown if he could. Thank the gods that fate was the decision maker.

Civoi was the other Drengr who had spoken to her that afternoon. He made it a point to introduce himself next. She disliked him too, but not as much. At least he had not called her 'girl' with such an insulting tone as Raff had.

Civoi was too bold and entitled for her tastes. He too insisted upon carving out time together so they might become better acquainted with one another. "I was hoping you would share a private meal with me, Princess. Perhaps breakfast?"

She stifled a groan at his offer. She was quickly realizing that with twenty-seven hopefuls, she would hardly get a moment to herself. "Breakfast sounds lovely," she said as she struggled to muster feeling in her voice. Her words came out monotone. "Unfortunately, tomorrow morning I have several duties requiring my attention." It was a lie, but she couldn't bear the idea of seeing any hopefuls as soon as tomorrow morning.

"I see." Civoi stroked the stubble on his chin. "The day following, perhaps?"

"Yes, the day following."

Pleased, he dismissed himself and moved away displaying better sense than Raff had. The other introductions were not as painful. The Drengr hopefuls were polite, though she wasn't sure if it was feigned. Those from Fort Squall and Fort Kastali she liked the best. But there were a few from Fort Lin who were also easier to bear. It seemed that those she cared for the least were from Fort Edge in the north.

She did her best to learn each of their names that night, hoping that where she failed, her handmaidens would succeed. It was a true struggle, and sometimes she found herself thinking up nasty pranks to play on the ones she didn't like, only to remind herself that she had promised to behave. Fortunately, there were a few favorites among the bunch. She discovered that she liked Daryn the most, and not simply because of his mop of curly brown hair, dreamy dark eyes, rosy cheeks, or fine straight nose. He was gracious and attentive. Moreover, his suggestion of how they might spend their time together was more favorable than anyone's. "I thought perhaps we might go sailing," he offered.

"Sailing?" She was momentarily caught off guard as her stomach fluttered.

"Why, yes. Have you ever been?"

"I have!" She answered all too quickly, forgetting her reservation. "My mother and father take me occasionally around the bay. Sailing is grand."

"Wonderful!" He clapped his hands together. "In Stormy Bay, I often sail when the day is calm. It's a great way to clear my mind. I hope it will be a good opportunity for us to better acquaint ourselves." She eagerly agreed and set aside her third afternoon for the occasion.

Once she acquainted herself with all twenty-seven hopefuls, she quietly excused herself from the hall. As they walked back to her apartment in the south wing, her handmaidens were full of gossip. They talked of nothing else for the remainder of the night as they got her undressed, arguing over which of the Drengr were the most handsome, which had better manners, and which would make good mates. By bedtime, her head pounded from the wine and exertion.

When she closed her bed curtains and crawled under her covers, the darkness seemed to swallow her up. A sense of foreboding settled about her, twisting her stomach. Her mind ran away with itself. Merely thinking about all the activities scheduled made her feel sick. The next two weeks weren't going to be easy...far from it. Worse still, tomorrow was probably going to be the hardest day of them all.

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