When I wake up in the morning, not even the faintest of scar-pink rays of dawn have begun to peek over the horizon. By the time I'm dressed in my uniform, a sharp knock echoes off my door.

"Who is it?" I call as I open the door. Lamp light blinds me, whisking away the last bits of grogginess my eyes desperately cling to.

Arlin's face greets me as he lowers the arm with the lamp. "Rise and shine, sleepy."

"I was already up," I say, shoving him lightly. "Where do we go for training?"

"There's a training area inside the garden. I'll show you."

As he turns and begins walking, a cool breeze hits me, leaving me desperately wishing for a warm cider to wake myself up. I glance back at my hut. The thick line of trees I had noticed yesterday had been a bright, bold wall in the distance. Now, in the dim light of dawn, they loom menacingly over the land.

A grey-blue fog settles close to the ground, and I note the dense properties of it. If someone manages to cross the border, it would be easy for them to go unnoticed on a morning like this.

An eerie silence befalls the castle's corridors as I follow Arlin through the hall. The castle chef is already working on the royal family's morning meals, flitting around the room with all the grace of a dancer, her face shiny with sweat. She swipes at it quickly before glancing up at me with a smile.

By the time we reach the training area, Castien is already stretching and examining the practice weapons, testing their durability. He glances up at Arlin and I and smirks, spinning a wooden staff over his head and around his waist with ease. Arlin ignores him, and I roll my eyes as I tie my hair up with a ribbon I found in my hut.

A weapon rack carries everything from wooden weapons to real ones. Each resembles a real weapon but is safe enough that they won't inflict mortal damage. I test the weight of one of the wooden swords and slice it through the air. It glides with all the ease of my father's Moldath sword back home, and I push back the well of memories that bubbles up.

"You ready to warm up?" Arlin asks as he steps onto the platform and readies his stance.

"Am I not even allowed to stretch first?" I step up and bounce up and down on the balls of my feet.

"Since when have you ever wanted to stretch?" Arlin points out.

I tip my head to the side. "Fair enough." I lunge at him, and he swings out with his right arm. I sidestep his body and duck under his arm, bouncing up again and spinning around.

He shakes his head and steps forward again. A breeze tickles my face as his left fist swings at my cheek, narrowly missing. I can tell he's holding back. That blow should have hit my face.

He has always been intimidating to me. Seven feet tall, with broad shoulders, his sheer size is so intimidating it stops fights from ever starting in the first place, or it usually lets him win every fight just as his first punch lands. I never dared to stand up to him in hand-to-hand combat before. But I must get over that now if I want to stay on the king's guard.

I launch at him, and he dodges right. His left hand knocks me sideways like I weigh nothing. I cough and drop to one knee. He moves to swing again, and I arch my body out of the way. His fist misses my side and sends him falling forward, putting him right in line for a choke hold.

He tries to stand, bringing me up with him. My feet leave the ground, and I wrap them around his shoulders and swing backwards before he can react. He tumbles backward, body slamming into mine as we hit the ground.

All air leaves my lungs as I let out a strangled croak.

Arlin stands up quickly and grimaces. "You didn't get enough momentum to flip me. You knocked me off-balance, but that's not enough to keep you from getting injured."

I cough and sit up, wiping away the tears that threaten to slip out. "Yeah, yeah. Gods, you weigh so much."

Arlin chuckles and walks back over to the rack of weapons.

"That was eventful," Castien says as he makes his way over to me. "You almost had him."

"I'm glad someone thinks so." I rub my elbows as I stand up. "He doesn't see that. He only sees me as his little sister, not what I truly am."

He chuckles, his lips rising in a lazy smile. "And what are you? A lioness?"

I glare at him. "Not funny."

He shrugs. "It was a genuine question."

When I continue to ignore him, he shakes his head. "Fine, then. Would you like to spar?"

"That's a dumb question." I stride over to the rack of weapons and grab my weapon of choice: a staff.

Castien does the same, and when we're both back in the circle, he smirks. "Ready to lose?"

"Are you asking yourself that question?" I shoot back. From the impression I got from him yesterday, he holds a surprising, ever-present amount of charisma and confidence. That can often be a pitfall. "Just because I am a woman and centuries younger than you doesn't mean I'm an average fighter."

"I guess we'll find out soon, won't we?" He widens his stance and bends his knees slightly, raising his staff at me.

I inch closer to him, careful not to get too close. In a split second, he spins to strike at me, but I parry it before swiping my staff under his feet. He flips with the movement and lands gracefully on his feet, taking advantage of his position by hooking a foot around my ankle and pulling.

He pins me from behind as I let out a gasp. Grasping at any chance to get away, I kick him in the shins, cursing my ability to watch my back. As Castien stumbles, I take deep breaths to center my balance as bright spots dance in my vision.

Having recovered from the kick, Castien runs at me once more. I jump over him, wrapping my legs around his neck and swinging myself dangerously close to the ground, gaining enough momentum this time to force him to the ground.

A hiss of air leaves his chest as he hits the ground, and I put my foot in the crook of his back and press. Hard.

"Submit," I say, my voice barely more than a huff.

He taps the ground with the palm of his hand, signaling his defeat. I fight back the sigh of relief that almost leaves my lungs.

"Gods, that was amazing, Sig," Arlin says as he helps Castien up.

"Yeah..." Something seems to click in Castien's brain as he stares at me, pressing his fingers to his shoulder. It's as if he's seeing me for the first time.

"That was quite the spar. You're the new recruits?" A broad-shouldered man enters the garden square, clad in a maroon tunic and some training slacks, and followed by a few others.

Castien stands straighter as he looks across the room at the guard. "Yes. I'm Castien, and these two are -"

"Sigrid and Arlin. I would know those faces anywhere." He steps forward, face softening as he sticks out a hand. "I grew up in a village with your father. We were good friends. My name is Eddard." He nods his head at Castien. "It's nice to meet you, Castien. I haven't spoken with an elf in quite some time. I believe it will be a positive change of pace."

One of the other men scoffs. When Eddard narrows his eyes at him, he steps forward. He isn't as heavy-set as Eddard, and is significantly shorter, but the aura enveloping him gave me the sense that he shouldn't be underestimated.

"An elf on the king's guard." His lip curls up in disgust as he scowls at Castien. "Uncanny." He jerks his head up. "I think he ought to go back to his own country." He nods his head at me. "Her too."

I recoil at his words. Me? I was born in this kingdom! I have as much right to be here as he does.

Castien's jaw sets in a sharp line, outlining his already chiseled features. Even amid defeat, Castien wasn't this ticked off. Can someone he barely knows really get under his skin this much?

"Tanru, that is enough." Eddard turns to meet Tanru's gaze. Before, his eyes were light with kindness and joy, but now they're so dark they are almost black. This is a warning, and Tanru would be wise to accept it.

Tanru seems to understand because he bows his head and looks away.

When Eddard turns to smile at us again, the light has returned to his face. "Now, then, I feel obligated to apologize on Tanru's behalf, and welcome you to the guard. I wish you had more time to acclimate to your surroundings, but I fear that we simply do not. Sigrid, it has been requested that you report to your post at the prince's quarters. Castien and your brother will stay here with me."

I nod and walk back into the palace and stop. Finding the prince's quarters is easier said than done when I don't know my way around.

Footsteps echo down the hallway as someone walks past in the distance.

"How convenient." I take off after the person, hoping they will know where Prince Kael's quarters are.

At the end of the hall, I spot the man and sprint to catch him. He takes long strides, and despite the lack of a height difference, I can still barely catch up.

I shake my head and give up on trying to catch him. "Hey!"

He turns, and I stop in my tracks. Thick curly hair the color of charcoal, and umber skin stands out more prominently than most humans. His eyes are a maple color, and I can detect a hint of moss-green when sunlight glints off his irises as they land on me.

My heart thuds in my chest. Whatever I had expected before he turned around, this was not it.

He waits for me to say something, eyebrows furrowing when I just stare at him. "Yes?"

I shake my head. "Sorry. Do you know where the prince's quarters are?"

The look of confusion clears from his face as he nods. "Yeah. I'll show you the way."

I exhale my relief. "Thank you."

He jerks his head to the right and starts walking. "So, you must be one of the new guard recruits?"

"Yeah. They assigned me to the prince."

"I see." As he walks, I notice how wide his shoulders are. Is he a guard? He's built like one but isn't wearing a uniform.

"So, what do you do? In the palace, I mean?" I ask, noting a couple of the rooms as we pass so I can remember how to get to Prince Kael's quarters next time.

He shrugs. "I'm one of the servants."

I furrow my brows. He doesn't look like a servant. And with what he's wearing, he isn't dressed like one either, unless even the servants' clothing is well-made.

"Hi, Prince Kael," a servant calls from behind us, and the man beside me stops in his tracks.

I watch him and my eyes go wide. "Wait."

A smile ticks at the corner of his mouth as he stares down at his feet. "You caught me."

"You're the prince?" I stop and snap to attention, cutting my gaze to the ground. "I'm so sorry."

Amusement lifts the corner of his brow. "What are you apologizing for? I'm the one who lied to you."

I look up at him through my eyelashes and shuffle my feet a little. My mouth stays shut. I'm not sure what to say.

"I was just heading back to my room. It's not far from here."

"Perfect."

He grins again before turning and resuming his walk. "Well, let us go, then."

I dip my head in shame as I follow Kael to his room. How could I act so stupid, just because he's the prince?

The west wing isn't much different from the rest of the palace, disappointingly. When we reach Kael's quarters, there is another guard waiting outside of it. He doesn't seem much older than me, though it is hard to tell since he's full human.

"Cretus." The prince nods his head at the guard as he approaches. "I'm back. And I found someone along the way."

Cretus regards me with a calculating glare. He practically scans me from my feet to my face. "We haven't had another female guard in a while. And Rita isn't exactly the best at the whole... feminine thing." He glances at Kael with a small smirk, as if trying to mentally communicate. "Doesn't really look the part."

Kael shakes his head as Cretus laughs. I grit my teeth. If this is how I'm going to be treated, simply because of my assignment, I'm going to have a long couple of months – or longer, depending on how long it takes to locate the source of the threats.

"Perhaps you would like a break from your post?" I ask.

Cretus stops laughing and stares at me again, this time tilting his head a bit like a confused animal. "I guess you're right." Then he turns to Kael again. "I won't be gone long."

I glare at Cretus as he strides past me. I open my mouth to defend myself to Kael but am met with the sound of his redwood door shutting, leaving me alone in the corridor.