Over my Dead Body

I would not be shown up by this princess, but I was too angry to fight her now. The first man rushed me, but the man's movement slowed as I focused. The staff spun at my head, but I just ducked and closed the distance, delivering a calculated and controlled counter-strike to his midsection with the wooden sword. The impact was measured—not enough to injure, but sufficient to take the wind out of him.

The second man, seeing an opening, swung his shield at me in a wide arc, a feint to set up for a thrust with his short sword. I had expected as much, pivoting on my foot to avoid the shield and parrying the thrust with a twist of my wrist, pushing the sword away.

As the men regrouped, I faced them with calculated calmness, channeling my frustration into focus. I was not there to prove myself in combat—that I could do without question—but I had to demonstrate that I was not to be underestimated, least of all by Princess Lilliana.

The sparring continued a dance of wood and motion. Strike, block, counter. My movements were fluid, a craft learned from countless hours of practice and honed concentration. Sweat beaded on my brow as I worked to maintain control, keep the anger at bay, and stay the course.

Finally, as the last opponent stepped back, conceding the match, I turned to face Princess Lilliana once more. 

"Your Highness," I began, my voice steady despite the exertion. "I did not come here to fight you or to 'size up my acquisition,' as you put it. I came here to talk with you and the future."

The ice-cold glare I got as she raised her sword made me suck my teeth and click my tongue.

"Future?" she scoffed, her grip tightening on the hilt of her wooden sword. "You mean the future where I'm supposed to be whisked away to safety while my family and people fight and die? That future?"

Her accusation stung, but it was not unjustified. "If I have to, then yes!" I growled, tightening my grip on my blade. "I will drag you kicking and screaming if that is what it takes! You don't seem to understand just how serious the situation is!"

"Over my dead body!" She roared. "Overcharge!"

Her words echoed across the training ground, and I saw a fierce, unfamiliar energy start to envelop her. This was no mere figure of speech—this was a class skill and a potent one at that.

Princess Lilliana charged at me, her movements amplified by the skill she had just activated. Her movements were a blur, her strikes imbued with power and speed that were nearly superhuman.

I barely had time to raise my blade in defense, moving on instinct rather than calculated strategy. The wood of our swords collided with a crack that resonated in the air, and I could feel the force behind her blows.

We exchanged a rapid succession of parries and thrusts, and I could tell she was not holding back. Nor was I, for that matter. If she sought to test my resolve, to challenge my intentions, then so be it—I would not back down.

As we fought, I couldn't help but admire her ferocity and skill. She was everything the rumors said, and more. Despite the aggression, I sensed a controlled precision in her actions. She was a warrior, yes, but she was also a protector.

As our wooden swords locked together, with faces mere inches apart, I said through clenched teeth, "Your Highness, I don't want to be your enemy. I am here to help."

The determination in her eyes was as clear as the challenge they held. This was the Princess Lilliana I had been warned about—strong, tenacious, and unyielding, but she pushed me skidding back. "I never asked for it!"

Our swords parted with a sharp snap, and I steadied myself. "I know," I replied, catching my breath. "Unfortunately, we don't always get to choose our battles, or how we're drawn into them."

She lunged again, and our swords met in a dance that was as much about our clashing wills as it was about our physical prowess. Each strike, each parry, was a conversation—a debate of ideals and intentions.

"I fight for my people, for my home," she said, her voice laced with the passion of her convictions. "Your arrival changes nothing in that regard. It is your father that is attacking us! You should be the one to stop him!"

That finally hit a nerve, and the next strike was made by me. The impact sent her skidding back, but I continued, each strike more ferocious than the last until I smashed the sword from her hand. My final strike stopped before her neck and I leaned in close.

"If I could kill the son of a bitch, I would have already. If I could stop this war with this power, I would," I growled as my anger boiled over and then hurtled my practice sword into a training dummy, where it lodged firmly into the wood. Chest heaving with the exertion and emotion of the moment, I looked back at Lilliana, my anger subsiding as quickly as it had flared.

"But I am not strong enough, no matter how hard I swing a sword. I don't care how strong you think you are, you are a princess, and it is your job to use the brain you were given," I said, trying not to hiss, and then gestured to the men around us. "Everyone of these men is willing to die just to make sure that you will live so the kingdom that they have served their entire life will have a chance to rise again."

I didn't wait for her to answer. I was too angry and knew that I had gone too far, but my anger was justified. The fury at my father, at the destruction he was causing, was beginning to merge with the frustration of trying to make others understand the gravity of our situation. It was clear to me that there was no simple solution, no easy way to end this war, but retreating into stubbornness would only ensure more tragedy.

Walking away to regain my composure, I took deep breaths, willing my heart rate to slow down. It wasn't the princess's fault that we were in this predicament. Her defiance was born of a will to fight for those she loved, something that mirrored my own feelings.

"I don't want to be a savior," I called out to her, not turning back to face her. "I don't want to be the only one making decisions or carrying this burden. But we have to work together, Lilliana. We have to be smarter than our enemies, find their weaknesses, and exploit them. And we have to survive -- not just for ourselves, but for the future of our kingdoms."

For a moment, everything was silent, save for the distant clashing of arms and the muted bustle of the castle. I waited, not sure if she would attack me from behind or walk away in anger. 

After what felt like an eternity, her voice cut through the silence, sharp, yet not as heated as before. "Your words are fine, Gideon, but they don't change the fact that I didn't choose this path. I am not some damsel to be saved, and I will not be paraded around as a trophy for political gain."

I whirled around and glared at her. "Why do you think I care about politics? Is that why you think I am here? Is that why you think me, a Prince, came alone? Who in their right mind would do something so stupid?"

Her fiery gaze met mine, unflinching, but I could see the wheels turning in her head as she considered my words.

"I don't know," she admitted after a tense pause, her voice carrying a mixture of anger and confusion. "Maybe it's foolish to hope that someone would come here for any reason other than duty or obligation. Maybe I'm just looking for a fight because I'm so damn scared."

It was the first time I'd sensed vulnerability in her, a crack in the armor she wore not just as protection in battle, but against the world.

"Lilliana," I said, my voice softening, "I understand that fear. I'm scared, too—of failing, of not being strong enough, of losing people I care about. But I'll be damned if I let that fear stop me from doing everything in my power to protect them, to protect you."

Princess Lilliana's eyes widened at my admission of fear, her fists unclenching slightly as her defensive stance eased. The battle between her desire to fight every step of the way and the acknowledgment of our shared reality was evident on her face.

"I can't promise that this will get any easier," she said, the edge in her voice not quite as sharp as before. "And I definitely can't say I'm happy about this marriage. I've heard the rumors—you're betrothed to Marcella of Havenby already, aren't you? What does she think about all this?"

I felt my chest tighten at the mention of Marcella. "Yes, I am promised to her," I replied, unable to hide the concern in my eyes. "Marcella... She understands the situation, but it's complicated. You were not supposed to be part of this complication, but nobody expected that my old home was going to attack yours."

Lilliana's gaze turned icy, her earlier vulnerability momentarily forgotten as pride and anger flared anew. "Complicated? Is that what you call it when you string two women along for the sake of strategy? And now you dare stand here and talk about protection and fear?"

"Lilliana, please, it's not like that," I protested, desperately trying to explain the nuances of a situation I barely had a grasp on myself. "I never wanted any of this—the war, the double betrothal... It's all been thrust upon us. And Marcella," I hesitated, wrestling with the decision to disclose the private news, "she might be carrying my child."

The words hung between us, a revelation that seemed to suck the air from the training yard. Lilliana's face contorted through a gamut of emotions—shock, disbelief, and then a livid rage that outshone the wrath I had seen in our sparring.

"And you think telling me this now, like this, will change anything?!" Her voice was sharp enough to draw blood, and she stepped back as if I had physically struck her. "You have no idea what you're asking of me, Gideon! No idea what sacrifices you're placing at my feet!" 

Before I could react, she turned on her heel and stormed away, leaving me standing there amid the fallout of our confrontation. I had come to Jagar to seek an ally, a partner in this war, but instead, it seemed I had just ignited a different kind of battle—one I was woefully unprepared for.

With a heavy heart and a mind swirling with doubts, I wondered if uniting the kingdoms might be an even greater challenge than defeating the darkness that threatened to engulf our lands.