The morning after the welcome feast Lena made a list. She sat with her handmaidens and Kenna Margaret at the small table in her apartment over breakfast, and together they recorded the names of all twenty-seven Drengr hopefuls. She only remembered half of them, but with help, she managed to include everyone.

"Now," she said, scanning her register. "I have already scheduled time with the following." She ticked off several names with her quill, writing subscripts about each activity. "But it seems a handful of them never bothered to request time with me." She sighed, though she wasn't offended by it. "I suppose I'll need to call upon them at some point this week. As if I don't already have enough to do."

"What do you have in mind, Princess?" Cora's blue eyes sparkled with eager curiosity.

"Well..." she paused. "Father offered me suggestions. The time I spend with each hopeful can be as simple as a walk." She thought about the one scheduled for later that day with Raff and shuddered. "Or it can be as complicated as I desire. But, if I must do this, then I would like to get something out of it for myself."

"Lena!" Kenna Margaret scolded, slapping her arm. "I should have known you would have a trick or two up your sleeve. Let me guess, archery lessons?"

Lena offered her a smug grin. "That...among other things." She looked down at her list again, glancing through the names and circling several of them. "The following hopefuls are still unscheduled. I think I remember this one. Ivrir. Do you remember him?" She looked up at her handmaidens.

"Oh yes!" Avra eagerly nodded before turning deep red. "He's the one with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, From Fort Squall. Ivrir Ironborn."

"Ah, yes. That's right. Ironborn, like myself." She added a note next to his name. "I think I will recruit him for lessons after my walk with Raff."

"How do you think it will go?" Theresa gazed at her.

"What? My asking Ivrir for archery lessons?"

"No!" said Theresa. "Your walk with Raff."

"Oh! Terribly, I'm sure. I would rather do anything else in the world. I almost regret that I promised Father to take this seriously."

"Perhaps it won't be so bad," said Cora.

Lena groaned. "If only..."

For the remainder of the morning, she worked with her handmaidens on the list she'd drafted, making little notes next to each of the names. With guidance, she documented which Drengr came from which forts, descriptions about their appearance, information about any scheduled activities, and details about the conversations they'd had the night before. By midday, the list was extensive. She folded it and tucked it away, profusely thanking her helpers. Without them, she would already be floundering.

Too nervous for her impending walk, she ate very little during the midday meal. Today it was served in her room, though she usually took her meals in the dining hall. With all the hopefuls who would surely be there, she preferred to spend what little time she could in hiding.

When it was time, she made her way to the royal gardens, followed by Avra, Cora, and Theresa. On the second level of the keep, she spotted Ramar, lurking as if he'd been waiting for her. He leaned against the corridor, one leg propped against the wall, as if he hadn't a care in the world. "Ramar? I didn't expect to see you this afternoon."

"Ah." He moved away from the wall and bowed politely, though it was unnecessary. They were such good friends as it was. "I am to escort you during each of your activities with the hopefuls."

"To ensure I behave myself?" She arched an eyebrow at him, suspicious of his intentions. He was sure to relay everything to her father, including whether she behaved herself or not. "Well? Am I right?" His eyes sparkled, but he said nothing more. "Fine then. Keep your secrets if you must, but I have somewhere to be. Shall we?"

"Ha! Yes, we shall." He offered up his arm and she took it. They continued down to the lowest level of the keep, passing other keep patrons meandering through the corridors. "Lovely gown, by the way," said Ramar. "One of your mother's commissions?"

"How do you know about that?" She glanced up at him.

"How could I not?" He smirked. "It suits you well, by the way...the color especially." She had donned a dusty blue brocade with muted gold silken trim and white sleeves. The neckline formed a sweeping V that left the tops of her shoulders exposed. Cora had picked out her necklace so that her chest didn't feel so bare—a simple diamond pendant from her mother.

Lena pinched Ramar's arm. "You're not trying to tease me, are you?"

"Upon my honor, Princess!" He gazed down at her, his eyes trained upon hers. "Why would I do such a thing? Can you not take a compliment?" He paused. "I can retract it if you wish."

She blushed under his scrutiny. "No, no. Thank you. I appreciate your kindness." Ramar was a fine gentleman and a finer Drengr. If only some of her Drengr guests were more like him.

They found Raff the Ruthless waiting just outside the garden's entrance, arms crossed. Ramar dropped her arm and her entourage slowed their pace, giving her the illusion of privacy.

Raff stepped forward. "Good afternoon, Princess. You look...lovely." He bowed deeply.

Her stomach convulsed. The last thing she wanted was to be considered lovely by someone like Raff. She forced a smile. "Thank you, Raff. You are too kind." Then she curtsied and quickly clasped her hands behind her back.

Raff did not acknowledge the off-putting gesture, but he also did not offer up his arm on account of it. Instead he swept his arm outward. "After you, Princess."

"Yes, thank you." She stepped forward under the stone archway and he fell into step beside her.

The royal gardens were spectacular by the highest standards, initially constructed by Queen Isabella when she built the great keep. Sprites were lovers of nature—it was a part of them. It was even rumored that their love of the forest did not allow them to stray far for too long, else their magic would dry up and they would die. Perhaps that was why they remained hidden from the rest of Dragonwall.

Lena and Raff made their way down the main path walking at a meandering pace. The garden was a maze of flower beds, shrubberies, and giant trees, all housed within the keep on its lowest level. One could spend hours wandering within and still find new things to gawk at.

Raff was the first to speak. "I always wondered what it might be like walking through this garden. My father told me stories. 'Trees bigger than some in the Gable Forest,' said he. Now I believe him."

"Did he?" She momentarily forgot about being snide. "And who is your father?"

"Why, he's Lord Azrith."

"Lord Azrith?" She faltered. "The leader of Fort Edge?"

"Unless you know another Lord Azrith?"

"I...obviously not."

"He came here when he was a youngster," said Raff. "I believe he and your father are good friends."

"They are." She had not expected this. "My father told me stories about their younger days."

"Is that so?" Raff was interested.

She recalled one tale in particular, relaying it to him. When Gobelins had invaded the east—as they were wont to do from time to time—many Drengr fought them along the outskirts of Pavv. Azrith and her father, still a prince at the time, were among them. One day, her father and Azrith grew bored with slaughtering Gobelins. It was too easy. For a bit of fun, they abandoned their Drengr forms in favor of their human forms, fighting alongside the kingdom's soldiers.

"I heard much the same from my own father," said Raff. "I am told they killed over four hundred Gobelins that day with nothing more than their Sveraks."

Sveraks were great battle swords carried by each of the Drengr, to protect them while in human form. They received these weapons from their fathers when they fledged, as a coming of age gift.

"It is a feat to be proud of," Lena mused. They fell quiet as they rounded a bend in the path, coming across a bed of purple roses. Lena paused and bent forward to smell them, sighing with delight.

Raff copied her actions. When he straightened, he glanced about. "I am afraid my father's descriptions hardly did this garden justice."

Lena nodded. "Indeed, it is unparalleled by any other garden I have seen." That wasn't saying much, for she had never been allowed out of the capital. But she wasn't going to tell him that.

They continued their walk and she kept her hands behind her, fidgeting with her fingers. "Tell me, Raff," she said after some thought, "since your father is a fort leader, surely he trained you in politics?"

"Of course, Princess Lena. He drills me relentlessly."

"I see." Hers had too, but she was certain the measure of drilling was not the same. "I am glad to hear it. I was hoping you might help me to solve a problem."

"It would be my pleasure," he said, his chin jutting out. "After all, these things can be difficult for the fairer sex, especially without the correct training."

A faint chuckle from Ramar prompted Lena to glance over her shoulder. The look on his face was priceless. She turned back to Raff. "You are quite correct regarding my training," she lied. Conceding made her want to vomit. "I often find myself struggling, especially when my father enlists my help. He recently asked that I settle matters regarding the Dragondoms. With twenty, it can be difficult to manage them all."

Raff whirled to face her, his eyes cold. "He enlists your help in such matters?"

"But of course. My father takes my advice seriously." Once more she glanced over her shoulder and found Ramar's intent expression.

"I see," said Raff, thrusting his chest forward. "All the more reason to request my assistance. How can I be of aid?"

They rounded another corner in the garden that took them directly into a grove of trees. The winding path took them past various pines and poplars. It was a small forest, tucked away within a huge city. She often escaped here when she wished to be alone. Now it would be forever tainted with memories of Raff the Ruthless.

Without further hesitation, she told him of her challenge. "It has come to my attention that there have been several uprisings in Celenore, along its northern coast. Celenore, as you may know, is a Dragondom in—"

"In Eigaden—I know."

She gritted her teeth at the interruption. Were Raff a smart man, he would know better. Instead, he was a very stupid man trying his hardest to appear intelligent. "Yes. Right."

"I had not realized that there were uprisings," Raff mused. His gaze was calculating.

"Yes, unfortunate business. We have decided to keep everything quiet for now." The truth was, her father had already settled the matter with the utmost discretion. Raff didn't need to know that. She planned to test him the same way her father tested her. "Shall I give you the details? Then perhaps we might discuss a solution?"

"Of course, Princess. As I said, I would be honored."

"Excellent!" She launched into the particulars, telling him about the instigators, how they were unhappy with their circumstances, how they encouraged others to rebel alongside them. She talked about the deaths that resulted from the riots. The only thing she left out was how her father had fixed the matter.

"Rotten usurpers!" Raff growled. "The law states that disturbers of the peace must be punished. Those who rebel against the king's laws are traitors. Death is the only way to deal with these types. I have seen it before."

"Have you?" she feigned interest. A faint grunt sounded behind her. Ramar was enjoying this conversation.

"Of course, Princess, I have dealt with these same issues. The people in the north can be unruly."

"Is that so? And based on your experience with the people in the north, how would you deal with this particular issue? You would put the usurpers to death, as you have said?"

"Indeed. I stand by my beliefs. Death is the only way to deal with those who would resist the king's law. Treason is treason. Set an example for others and eliminate further rebellion."

She took a deep breath, leashing her temper. "The law is important, I agree, as is eliminating further rebellions. But what about the laws themselves? Might you wonder what prompted the behavior? And should there be any action taken to evaluate the current state of politics regarding the underlying reasons?"

"The law is the law, Princess. You of all people should understand this."

"Indeed. Without the law there would be chaos. But who wrote these laws? Can we be certain that the authors were all-knowing? Can we be assured that their experience and solutions for matters of justice were correct? After all, times change." Although she was addressing the uprisings, she was ultimately thinking about the law that restricted her from ruling without a mate. Could it be changed if she wasn't meant for any of the twenty-seven hopefuls? If she failed?

"Rest assured that the laws are legitimate, Princess. The authors of the Charter knew what they were doing. To argue otherwise would be treason."

"Right. You're correct." And he was, but that did not make his answers any better.

"Then the matter is settled. Execute the traitors and be done with it." He paused. "See? Thank the gods you have me to guide you."

"Thank the gods indeed," she muttered as her mood turned sour. The worst rulers followed the law with unyielding rigidity. The best used the law as a guide but still offered a measure of flexibility. If a king's only purpose was to enforce rules, he would be little more than an executioner. Regardless of this, Raff had failed her test.

They walked a short while longer, discussing matters of less importance. Just as promised, Raff told her what he knew about the Kalds—ice giants from Kalderland. There was little he knew beyond her own knowledge, though she had hoped that with his northern experience, he might know more. All in all, Raff the Ruthless seemed nothing more than a catastrophic disappointment.

When the time came to bid him farewell, she was nearly weeping with joy to be rid of him. He offered her a deep bow and a smug farewell. His face was easy to read; he believed that the afternoon had gone well. Let him believe what he wanted. He would be the one duped in the end.

There were still a few hours left before the evening meal, and Lena had one further errand before she could prepare for it. Ramar insisted on accompanying her to Ivrir's accommodations, her arm draped through his, while her handmaidens trailed behind, whispering. "That was very bold of you," he said, "to talk politics with Raff. I am impressed that you did."

"Impressed? And why is that?"

"Because we learned a great deal about him, didn't we?" Ramar grinned. "After all, we both know how your father dealt with the uprisings."

"We certainly do, you more than anyone." She paused. "Our king is wise, and when he isn't, he has you." She nudged his arm and smiled up at him.

Dragonwall's king had first sought to determine the reasons for the uprisings and why the rebels moved against the law. In so doing, he discovered a great many flaws in the governing of Celenore. These were failings of the lord governor himself. The people could not be at fault for wanting better living conditions.

"You will make an excellent queen someday, Lena."

"You really think so?" She lifted her chin a little higher.

"I know so."

They arrived at Ivrir's door where Ramar bid her and her handmaidens farewell. Avra, Cora, and Theresa hung back in the shadows. She knocked, hoping Ivrir would be within.

The door opened a measure and Ivrir popped his head out. His eyes widened. "Princess Lena!" he gasped, opening the door wide enough to bow. "I...I was not expecting you." His hesitance was a favorable contrast to Raff's egotistical flamboyance.

"Might I come in and speak to you for a moment?" It was very forward to request something like this—time alone in his quarters, even if just for a few minutes—but she had a job to do and had no qualms about taking matters into her own hands.

"Of...of course, Princess. Please, come in." Ivrir Ironborn stepped aside. With a single expression, she signaled to her ladies to wait outside.

When he shut the door behind her, she walked into the middle of the room, pretending to study it. "Tell me, Ivrir. Are you skilled with a bow?"

His brow furrowed. "Of course I am, Princess. Like all Drengr, I have mastered the basic weapons for killing."

"Good!" A slow smile came to her face. "I was hoping so. How would you feel about spending time at the target range tomorrow? Perhaps after breakfast?" She was scheduled to spend her morning meal with Civoi. This would give her something to look forward to afterward. "I have several hours free between then and the midday meal."

He quickly hid his surprise. "It would be an honor, Princess. I only hope that I might display as much skill as you undoubtedly possess."

A nervous laugh slipped from her lips. "Of course. I'm sure you'll do great." Since her parents had refused her lessons, she had no skill whatsoever. For a moment, she considered telling Ivrir this. He deserved to know she was using their quality time together for her own personal goals, but at last she decided tomorrow would have to do. "Until tomorrow then," she said, bidding him goodbye. Then she slipped from his room and told her handmaidens exactly what had happened. 

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