Princess Regan of Caldomaa's Story

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It was a beautiful day in Caldomaa, the sun was shining in the middle of the sky. It was the first day of summer, and it couldn’t be a more perfect day. The servants were preparing for the grand feast the royals were hosting for their guests. Scullery maids were cleaning the great hall from top to bottom, wail the male servants hung garlands of laurel leaves which were being tied together by the maidens of the castle, under a large oak tree on the grounds.

Princess Regan was sitting by the lake with her dolls all dressed in fine clothes, sitting at a small wooden table used for child's play. "Would you like some more tea, Sir Reginald?" she asked one of her dolls, and poured the good doll a beverage.

"Oh but of course, Lady Snugglebut" she said as she poured "tea" into another glass.

"and you Lady Fluffybottom?" She looked to the third doll, and smiled

"Are you sure? very well" then sat and poured herself a cup of "Tea".

The Gentlemen of the court awaited on the training grounds, for the jousting later that day. some gambling before the start, others preparing to be apart of the fun. Wail that was going on, King Sebastian found himself posing for a portrait, he was dressed in traditional Kaarveilian gnarb. A Hide Kilt, a tartan with a large Lions head on his head.

"Make sure you capture my warrior sprite." The King said to the Painter, who shrugged and urged him not to move. Sebastian tried, all the while her leg shot with pain.

Matilda was in a blissful state of happiness, she lay resting in the castle gardens, her eyes closed as the warm sun beamed upon her creamy palate, she had droned out the noise of the bustling castle, instead focussing on the soft songs of the birds, the trickle of the stream and light rustling of the leafs, it was on days like these that the Princess of Caldomaa truly felt at one with nature. She made a very pretty picture that day; if only an artist had been present it would have made the most stunning portrait. The setting was idyllic, Caldomaa’s green rolling hills of in the background, the palace centred, white wash walls towering into the pastel blue sky and then came the muse, with her raven curled hair sprawled around her like the darkness crowded the moon, the sun creating a unworldly glow of her skin, the small bouquet of wild daisy’s she had picked resting on her stomach as her small hands rested atop of them; she truly made the most breathtaking sight.

The princess could have stayed there for an eternity, but alas there was work to be done, or rather work she should be helping her mother oversee; at this current time Caldomaa was a hive of activity, ever since the King and Queen had announced this competition there had hardly been a moment for one to catch their breath, dances, feasts, jousts, hunts, everything that could possibly be happening, was happening. Mattie was a sociable girl, she liked to have a good time and enjoy herself, dancing, drinking and chatting gaily were all things that entertained her; however she had found herself wishing that the guests would leave and her family could get back to normal.

Normal…nothing would be normal after this, either she or one of her sisters would be married and their husband would then be named heir to the throne. It was the only way her father could ensure a successor, since her mother was too weak to have any more children. Opening her eyes, Mattie squinted her almond shape jewels, letting herself adjust to the bright sunshine, once she had done so, she pushed herself up from the grass, smoothing out the creases in her gown before idly making her way back towards the palace.

The corridors were alive with activity; she swerved her way in and out of servants until she reached her father quarters, the guards immediately let her enter, the doors closed behind her. Surveying the room she saw her father posing for a new portrait, smiling to herself, Mattie approached “you are looking most gallant and fierce, father” she spoke gently, placing an affectionate kiss on his cheek. Spotting her little sister, Regan sat at a small wooden table play with her dolls, wandering over she placed a loving kiss atop of young girls head “good morning, my little darling” she cooed affectionately “I have brought you some flowers for your tea party” Mattie beamed displaying the bouquet of wild daisies to her youngest sister.

Sebastian stood perfectly still as his daughter Matilda entered the room. At first the King hadn’t noticed her to his disgrace. He was far more interested in remaining still for the painter. This was the fourth attempt this week, in capturing Sebastian’s warrior’s stance, and he hardly wanted to wait around a fifth time for him to try again.

“You are looking most gallant and fierce, father” he herd his daughter’s voice from behind him, and smiled gently. “If only they could make this go much faster.” He said thinking of some ‘magic’ that would paint an image onto a canvas. “Ridicules” he chuckled, and without another word Matilda was had left with just a kiss on the cheek.

As she left, Sebastian got back to his concentration, the painter didn’t squirm or anything at his disconnection, which confused the king a bit. He looked at the man behind the canvas, as he was supposed to. Sebastian noticed that pale skinny man’s nervousness and he could not help but wonders if the man was more worried of him as a King or a man.
He heard a chuckle at the door, and his smile grew. He knew strength of it was his daughter Genevieve, his eyes now looking at the mirror that reflected the door behind him.

“Don’t just stand there at the door Gen.” he said to his daughter his posture unmoved. “Come in.”



Regan looked up at her big sister and smiled, “Thank you Mattie!” she said and took the flowers, “There so pretty!” she exclaimed and smelled them. Her face turned sour and looked to one of the Dolls. “Sir Reginald!” she gasped, “That’s mean!” A wise man would think she was talking to the doll, however if you were a member of the royal family you knew Sir Reginald was also the name little Regan gave her imaginary friend. So to tell the difference of whom she was talking to was rather hard.

“I’m sorry Mattie” she said looking to her sisters. “I’m sorry I have such a RUDE friend.” She pouted.

Matilda gasped in mock horror, crouching down to eye level with her baby sister “and just what did Mr Reginald say, my dear sister?” she asked casting a quick glance to the empty chair, which held her sisters imaginary friend. Many around the castle had told the royal family to not indulge Princess Regan’s imaginary friend, they said it would cause rumours and make her a social outcast. Mattie did not believe this, she felt rather sorry for her little sister, it couldn’t be easy being the only eight year old around and when your sisters were so much older and had their own duties to attend to it was no wonder she had turned to her imagination.

Although it did make her feel a little bit guilty for not spending much time with her little sister, still she might be married soon and her duties kept her occupied more than sometimes she would have wished. It was then she noticed Ser Gregoir, a most reliable and trustworthy knight of the realm, she can remember him from being a small girl. “Ser Gregoir” she greeted with a regal nod and a beaming smile.

Quickly glancing down at Regan she placed a kiss on her dark locks “I won’t be a moment, love.”

Walking over to the knight, she stopped just in front of him “To what do I owe this pleasure?” she asked, her small hands clasping in front of her, it was rather uncommon for Gregoir to address the royal family, it was usually the Captain of the Guard, Nikolas to relay messages and such “Is Ser Nikolas not on duty today?” she asked curiously, wondering where fathers handsome guard was that particular day.

Sebastian kept his smile glamming as his daughter entered the room, and placed herself over the artist’s shoulder. “Tis fine Gen, just being preserved for posterity.” He chucked slightly as the painter reminded him to remain still. He smoothed his facial muscles and took another deep breath. “It is an ode to your Grandfather, Gen.” he told his daughter, whom with her passion for books was surely well aware of his own father “The Great Lion”.

His eyes looked back to another man standing in the doorway; at first he did not recognize the younger man. It wasn’t until he introduced himself as Desmond when it snapped. He hadn’t seen the young prince in years, not since the boy was no more than a child. Sebastian always thought of the lad as the son he never had, it would bring him great pride to be able to call him son in-law.

“Desmond, I hardly recognized you.” He said still stature like, “Pardon my informality,” he explained. “I wasn’t expecting you till tonight.” He told the lad and pointed to his daughter. “I don’t believe you’ve met my daughter Genevieve.”
Sabastain frowned at a strange sound, “Is that a Swan?”



Regan smiled as she kept her little secrets to herself, she knew many ladies in the castle thought she was mad or something she wasn’t of course, but it was fun to make them think so. She nodded as Mattie went off, and smiled as she promised to take her ridding. “Oh goody, I haven’t ridden gummyshoes in so long!” she squeaked.

Sebastian exited the changing room with a proud demur, one that is to be expected of someone of his birth right and status. The noble crown of Mjolla Wolvesbane sat nestled on his brawl, Although it may seem strange to some that a man would wear a crown worn by a woman to Kaarviens it was a sign of the connection, a shared history of oppression and distain placed upon them by the Elves.

Mjolla was no more than Aleiia’s age, when she was married to her second husband Croalinus Olccinnius. Already a mother too four son, the elves tried to force Mjolla into giving them her first husband’s land. The woman refused and claimed it was her right to keep the land her sons would inherit one day. Mjolla fired a fierce rebellion and instead of being forced of her land, ended up forcing the Elves out of Kaarviel.

Sebastian walked to the courtyard of the palace, with the usual ores of chatter and greetings addressed to him. He merely bowed his head gently and went on his way towards the tournament field. He couldn't see his daughters of the bat, however he did see little Regan sitting in the royal booth when he reached it.
“Papa!” Regan grinned and rose from her seat.

Sebastian patted the girl on the head and smiled, “Where are your sisters?” he asked and sat down, “and your mother for that matter?” he laughed. True he was a little early, but that was like him, and the fact that he hadn't seen any of his daughters when he left the palace kind of scared him.

Genevieve was no doubt with Desmond, and that in itself was fine, but Matilda and Aleiia. He hadn't seen his older daughters since breakfast. Cordelia he was well aware was away from the fuss of the contest, and he understood her feelings towards the whole mess.

Taking a deep breath he waited for the rest of the family. As little Regan smiled and said with a full amount of energy, "I think Matilda is with Sir Nikolas, he asked for her assistance a while ago."
That in itself was a relief to the King, that Matilda was with a man whom he trusted like a brother. "and Aleiia?" he asked thinking of his eldest daughter.

Regan struggled, "I don't know where she is, but I saw her with an elf not long ago." Regan smiled she had been hiding in a tree the past hour, and saw a few things when no one thought was looking. Like one of the gardeners picking his noise.

Sebastian nodded, "well lets wait a few moments." he said gently.

It would seem that Desdemona had missed her family at breakfast, she had risen too late and thus her husband and daughters seemed to be already going about their business, something which she should also be doing, after all, a banquet wouldn’t organise its self. Luckily the herbs she had taken early had now fully reinvigorated her body, her energy and spirits replenished, she felt as she did twenty summers ago, although she knew it would not last, soon her aches, pains and fatigue would come back and once again she would return to her broken self, still with any luck this wouldn’t happen until this evening and then she could easily excuse herself to retire.

Mona forced down her breakfast, a few rashers of crispy bacon and a small helping of fruit, it was not much but it was all she could handle, besides she would eat plenty this evening at the banquet, or so she told herself. After a rather rushed breakfast, The Queen found herself conversing with the cook over the order in which the feast would be served and a last minute run though of menu, reminding of certain guests food requirements, much to their dismay. Once finished in the kitchens, Mona made her way back up towards the grand hall to advise over decorations and seating, luckily for herself not much was required for her to do, her ladies maids had seen too many of the preparations and everything seemed to be going swimmingly. No doubt throwing another leader into the pot would cause more troubles than it would solve and so she left, leaving the task in their very capable hands. That had been a new experience for Mona, once she had been at the centre of every banquet, gala or tourney, she had always taken control in the preparations and had enjoyed spending days going over every detail with a fine tooth comb, they had been tiring, exhausting in fact but ultimately worth it. This tourney had been one of the first where she had taken a more leisurely role, she still had the ultimate say over the preparations but her daughters and ladies maid had a much larger role this time.

After catching a glimpse at the time, the Queen almost gasped in horror, the tourney would be starting soon and she was not there. She had been planning on changing her gown for the competition but she would not have time now and so with a quick glance in the large, gold gilded leaf mirror, which hung just before the grand staircase, she smoothed down a couple of stray hairs before regaining her regal composure.

It did not take the Queen long to reach the tournament field, as she approached she could already see her husband and youngest daughter, Regan sat in the royal box bringing a happy smile to her features. “Husband” she greeted fondly as she approached, lifting her skirts slightly to climb the wooden steps to their seats, as she reached Sebastian, Mona placed a lingering kiss upon his cheek and took the seat next to him, pulling Regan into her lap as she did so “And how is my youngest sweetling this fine morning?” she asked, beaming with joy at the youngest of her daughters “and where are your other sisters?”

Sebastian rose as his wife entered the box, she seemed happy and smiley, as she kissed his cheek. Yet he couldn’t help but feel as if she was mad at him, for some reason. She did look beautiful though, just as she always did. “You look ravishing my love.” He spoke as she sat in the chair besides his, and with that he sat back down and kissed her hand. This vow of Celibacy she had was killing him; he wanted so badly to remain how things always were, however Sebastian did understand why his wife, thought it was necessary.

Regan giggled as her mother lifted her up on the large throne into her lap. “I’m rather good mother.” She smiled giving her a small hug, “However, after conversing with Sir Reginald, I discovered he is mildly racists, I just can’t be near such a person don’t you agree?” she looked at her mother with pleaded eyes, hoping she’d play along in her little game.

Regan watched as the first knights started to the course, and sighed. “I don’t know where they are, Matilda was with Sir Nikolas, but I don’t know where the other are.” She grinned and looked back to her mother.

“I left Genevieve with Prince Desmond.” Sebastian said to his Queen. Despite common belief Sebastian wasn’t in actuality King of Caldomaa he ruled Kaarviel, and a few islands of its coast, but Desdemona was the true Ruler of Caldomaa. Sebastian’s full title which he never uses is; Sebastain of Kaarveil King of The North, Consorte of Caldomaa.

“I pray Aleiia won’t be long, she typically isn’t this late. I would send someone, but she Regan said Sir Nikolas is with Matilda.” He hoped either of his daughters were not being swept by kind words, he needed them to be strong and not terry to emotions when picking a suitor. Dishonest men could use that to their advantage.

Sebastian grinned as his eldest daughter entered the Royal Box. That was one more added to the company yet still missing two, and of course there was the case of Sir Nikolas whom he didn’t like not having a few yards away. “It is good that you decided to make an appearance Aleiia.” He spoke in his low regal voice.

As he spoke Regan looked at her eldest sister and smiled, “I was just telling mother, I am no longer speaking to Sir Reginald, I’ve discovered he is mildly racists agents elves.” She shook her head disappointed.

“It’s too bad too, Sir Reginald and Lady Fluffybotton would have had such a marvelous Wedding.” She pouted, “Now he’s going to end up with that lupa, Mushy Sexopants.” Regan was aware she said a horrible word in front of her parents but it didn’t hit her till her father slapped her across the face.

“Watch your tongue, young lady!” Sebastian said in an angry voice.

“Sorry papa…” Regan said rubbing her cheek with her hand,

Sebastain looked to his eldest again, “Have you seen your sisters Aleiia?” he asked gently, looking to gather any information he could on Matilda and Nikolas’ whereabouts.

Mona smiled at her husband’s greeting, even after all the years of marriage Sebastian still had this way of making her feel like the only woman in the world, his green eyes shone with adoration and love, his kiss light and feathery against her cheek. Desdemona had been incredibly lucky to marry Seb, he was her best friend, lover and soul mate and despite the odds their marriage was one of pure love and devotion, something she wanted more than anything for her daughters. Regan shifted in her mother’s lap, gaining her attention as she spoke, playing along with her daughter Mona gasped as revelations about Sir Reginald’s racism came to light “How very naughty off him! I hope you told him that racism would not be tolerated in this kingdom, little dove?” Mona warned lightly, falling into her daughters imaginary game, she had been warned about doing so, people had said that it would make her unsociable and a outcast, but one look into her darlings eyes melted all apprehension.

“Sir Nikolas you say?” Mona asked curiously with a quip of her eyebrow, she liked the commander of the guard, he was a good and loyal person, truly dedicated to her family and the realm, although it did intrigue her what her daughter and Nikolas were doing together, usually he dealt with her husband.

Sebastian revealed their other daughters whereabouts, beginning with Genevieve and Mona frowned at that, she had heard rumours of Prince Desmond’s scandalous reputation and she did not know how she felt about her daughter being alone in his presence. “I wish you wouldn’t have done that my love, maybe we could send someone to retrieve her? She should be here now anyway” Mona spoke as softly as she could.

Aleiia hurried up the step to the royal box, making Mona smile with motherly pride, her eldest looked stunningly beautiful “you look lovely dear” she cooed. Mona found herself looking behind them for any sign of their other daughters, a small frown appearing on her lips, they could not hold off the tournament much longer.

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"I've never been so sure of anything in my life princess," Nikolas had spoken so tenderly that Matilda could have mistaken him for poet. His words brought a bright smile to her reddened smile, happiness emanated from the princess, had she found a man who would love her until her dying day? Possibly rule alongside her, not as her lord but as her equal. The man who would father her children and bring her more joy and love than she had ever expected; all this she read from the sincerity in his eyes, she her future his brown orbs and if she was correct it would be blissful.

“That makes me the happiest woman in the whole of Caldomaa” Mattie murmured upon a heavy breath, his lips were so close to hers, luring her forward, they were a mere inches apart when the trumpets sounded in the background. Pulling back slightly, Matilda chuckled lightly, taking his hand in her own she placed a gentle kiss upon his flesh “I should go, my family will be waiting and you must go compete” she sighed not wanting to leave, but her absence would be noted and didn’t particularly feel up her parents scolding.

Leaning forward once again, her lips lightly brushed his earlobe as her breath nipped at his neck “good luck, my love” she whispered lightly, her lips coming swiftly to his own in their first kiss, sweet and tender yet far too quick. Pulling back Mattie, smiled “Win for me” she muttered wanting nothing more than to be enveloped in his strong arms and skip the tourney but they would just have to make do for with that kiss for now.

The swan squawked, gaining her attention, turning to the bird Mattie frowned slightly “I’m sorry little dear,” she cooed, gathering what she would need to wrap the bird wing, it didn’t take long and soon the birds wing was bandaged accordingly “there all done, now you stay here until someone comes back to take you home.”

Trumpets sounded again as she turned back to Nikolas “I really must go” she sighed as she walked towards the door, her breathing slightly hitched as she gazed upon her champion “until this afternoon” Mattie smiled, as she swiftly walked out the door, any slower and she would have ran the risk of being pulled back to him and only the god know what would have happened. Never had a man had such an effect on the pretty princess, he made her stomach flutter with nerves, made her cheeks blush and make her heart pound. New developments but all very welcomed.

It did not take her long to reach the tournament grounds, she had practically ran through the palace only stopping when she saw the royal box before her, regaining her composure Mattie climbed the steps “I am so very sorry” she apologised to her parent, placing a gentle kiss to both of their cheeks “I had a swan emergency” she spoke truthfully as she sat down in the chair next to Aleiia, grinning at her older sister “and just where have you been all morning?”

Regan, smiled to her mother and said slyly, “I most certainly did, however he just didn’t take my advice.” She snuffed gently, feeling sadness for her no-longer friend. Perhaps she was growing up, getting over childish things. Then again on a more cynical note, perhaps she was just becoming sane.

Sebastian smiled as his daughter Matilda entered the box. “Well that’s almost all of our daughters my dear.” He said looking to his wife, with a slight chuckle as she remarked on her opinion of Desmond’s character. Even though Sebastian didn’t share the same opinion on Desmond, after twenty so years of marriage he knew better than to say she was wrong.
“Well yes, you are right my dear.” He said and kissed her hand once more. Sebastian looked over his shoulder to call a servant to him. “Fetch Princess Genevieve,” he said “and if Prince Desmond is still with her inform him of the contest.” The king said and sent the servant on his way without another word or thought.

Regan jumped down from her mother’s lap as the festival began. “Oooo…” she gasped, looking at a night at the far end of the field getting up to joust. “It’s The Knight of Samerstand!” she squawked. The Knight of Samestand was hardly a noble character; he was a murderous barbarian, who pillaged the northern end of Caldomaa for years. His real name isn’t known, but it is said he is descended from nobility.

“He’s so awesome!” Regan pounced, “he fought a whole town once with nothing but a rusty butter knife!” she grinned proud of herself. “I need his autograph!” she yelped.

Nikolas watched her go. He stood there alone, encapsulated by the whole moment. It wouldn't be lying to say he was dizzy, but such was the aftermath when a beautiful lady touches lips with yours. It was quick, but the effect was still there. Such a whisper of sensual emotion, but tangible enough to drive even the most stalwart of men mad for more. The effect Matilda gave Nikolas was overwhelming, and he had trouble focusing during those few seconds by himself. All those poems and sonnets the captain casually read before had all remained an enigmatic script until now. He thought it was strange for any man to feel this way, for he firmly believed that a man was was only measured in what he could amount to in himself. Matilda's kiss struck him so deeply, left not a wound but a piercing desire to secure a place in her heart. Something tugged at him, pushing him off the edge and towards the leaving princess to stop her and plan an escape from all the royal faculties and charge. To run away from it all and to live simply, away from the stress of the world. That dream saddened him, and reality hit like a brick wall with the squawking of a swan. He frowned, turning to the animal.

"And I suppose you'd have a better idea?" he said bitterly, scooping up the injured swan in his arms and walking out of the herbal office.

He walked down the halls of the great castle, and as he did time knew no presence, the world appeared as a great big blur vying for the next time he and the princess would have time together. Everything seemed so routine at that point, the courtesy greetings by fellow guards and his nodding response. The lively atmosphere of the festivities seemed empty to him, and he couldn't explain why. And once again he didn't pay heed to the confused onlooking of passersby when they saw an injured swan tucked under his arm. The festivities had already commenced Nikolas noted, given away by the pleasant smells and typical noble indulgence of the people around him. He had to find Ser Gregoir to give him supervision duty for the time being while he was competing.

Nikolas was never lost, but with the sudden surge of many people it was hard to get around. He made way to one of the central guard towers, assuming Gregoir would be there. On his way he was already met with a drunken brawl, but guards were already hot in stopping the commotion. Just like any grand scale event he expected all of his men to be at their best, and so far they did not leave room for doubt. The large oak door into the guard tower creaked as Nikolas opened it, and he entered, seeing Gregoir leaning over a table of maps and castle schematics. Around him were several officers and higher ranks Nikolas knew personally. Gregoir looked up from his maps and towards Nikolas, snapping at attention and grunting: commander in the presence. All the bodies in the room stood at attention.

"As you were," Nikolas said waving them off. The room went back to their typical duties. Nikolas head straight for Gregoir, and he already see the old knight frowning because of the beast tucked under Nikolas' arm.

"Glad you could join us ser," Gregoir said, and with that he went straight to business, "So far there hasn't been anything significant. The tourney's about to start and we haven't seen any sign of foul play. . . yet. If Sebastien would have damned let our engineers build an enclosed royal box I would be a lot more comfortable right now. . . but.. ."

Nikolas interrupted, "Then there wouldn't be much of seeing the festivities down below, would there Gregoir?" the captain grinned.

"I suggested a two inch arrow slit on all sides -- builders laughed me off," Gregoir replied with a straight face, "Fools,".

Nikolas chuckled, "Divert the crowds into these areas, have Jerald and Rickey bring their men to the left and right quarter-zone respectively. Get some men on horses patrolling the outskirts, presence keeps the peace, remember?"

The captain plopped the swan on the ground, he leaned over, resting his hands on the table, looking up at Gregoir.

"Gregoir, there is a favor I need to ask of you,"

Gregoir groaned, "Ser, the last time you spoke to me like this I nearly had my arm torn off by wolves because of your little escapade with that blonde barkeep, what is it this time?"

Nikolas blinked, feeling guilty, and spoke, "I'm competing in the tourney. I need you to take over supervising in my absence,"

The old knight stared at Nikolas blankly, "Is this about the princess?".

Nikolas nodded, "It's all about her,".

Nikolas could see the old knight sigh. Had this come as a surprise? The captain was unsure. It wasn't like Gregoir was unbeknownst to his feelings towards Matilda. Just up until now they had not come into full fruition.

"I hope you know what you're getting into," Gregoir replied, tugging at his grey beard, "I'll take your place up in the royal box, just. . ." he paused, "Think this through. I've never seen you as a man to be so easily swayed simply because of a woman,"

"It's not that simple, Gregoir," was all Nikolas could say.

"Women never are," the veteran said, "Keep the horizon in front of you," was all he said, referencing a common motto during both their time in Caldomaa's cavalry.

Nikolas did not say anything, he nodded, turned and walked out of the tower. There was preparation to be done.

***

Gregoir's old figure entered the royal box. He had done a bit of polishing to his appearance a bit prior, but there was nothing that would stop his appearance to betray the weathered exterior of an old soldier. The royal family sat comfortably there, and Regan was making a fuss over a man from Semastand. Titles confused Gregoir at times, what was the importance of a name to a dead man? He walked to the king and queen discretely, not allowing his presence to interrupt their view of the festivities.

"My King, my Queen," Gregoir said to each respectively, "Princess Alleia, Matilda, Regan," he nodded. He turned to Sebastian, "Nikolas is with the men briefing them on the tourney grounds, he asked me to be you sword," the old knight bowed his head in respect. He was unsure if either queen or king knew that Nikolas was competing, so he didn't speak of such.

And with that, his introduction was over. He stood at watch like a sentinel, taking up Nikolas' mantle in protecting the family for the time being.

The room had gotten pretty silent after her father left, Desmond not speaking another word since then. She herself did not mind really, it just meant she really didn't need to try and start a conversation. Not that she wanted to in the first place. The young girl cleared her throat just a little, she couldn't help but to feel as if she had forgotten about something. Finally she sighed, getting up from her seat, but just as she did so, a servant came into the room.

"Excuse me, Princess Genevieve," they said, "but your father had sent me to fetch you to watch the contest.' The servant looked over to Desmond, "I've also been told to inform you of the contest, the festivities are beginning."

Genevieve knew now what she was forgetting, the contest, she was suppose to be there as well to watch. Though she more than likely, wasn't going to. "Alright, I will take myself there, you may escort Prince Desmond there. I'm sure he doesn't know where it he is to go." She said with a slight nod of her head towards the servant, whom did the same.

With a quick curtsied to the Prince, she made her way out the door and down the long corridor. But before even walking out of the castle, she stopped at the library to grab a book. It only took a moment of her browsing through everything, till she found something. A fairy tale, that would suffice wonderfully. After that, she made her way to the contest grounds.

It wasn't long until she made it, book in hand, she entered the royal booth. Most of her sisters were there, and both her parents as well. "Sorry I am late," she said, taking her seat, "I had almost forgotten about this.. contest." Genevieve sighed and opened up the book in her hand.

"I do hope it can be somewhat entertaining," she spoke softly, "at least better than the Jester."

Sebastian watched at the tournament began, as the knight showed his daughters their skills in a good joust. They tried to flatter them with little rings and such and a part of the King smiled, as he thought of the silly Caldomaaen games he had some to understand. In Kaarviel a man wouldn't be caught dead trying to beg for a ladies attention. However Sebastian felt these knights actions were more based on greed then anything else.

Regan looked at the ring a knight had given her and grinned proudly, It was great fun and gently sat back down as her mother asked her to. "I don't like sitting down." she grumbled and crossed her arms gently. "it's so tedious." she complained.

The King looked to his wife and muttered something as Sir Gregor entered the box. "Do you think Matilda can look past her feelings for Sir Nikolas and even think of another mate?" he spoke sounding as if her was talking about breeding wolfhounds or something. As Sir Gregor informed of Sir Nikolas' tardiness he sighed knowing the old man was partly lying to him. "Wouldn't Sir Nikolas have been briefing the men before the festival even began?" he asked cooked eyed knowing something was up.

He hadn't even really noticed Genevieve enter the box, however Regan did and stood up in the most respectful way and asked her elder sister what she was reading. "Is it the story of the median and the Selkie?" she asked her eyes wide open.

Regan's mouth dropped her hero, the man she idled and adored lay defeated. "No, bloody way." she whimpered silently as she stood up from her seat once more and leaned over the edge. It wasn't possible her idle, the man who slaughtered hundreds with a rusty butter knife lay defeated in a joust. "Sir Reginald would remark on the elf of course." she said in her fancy voice, "but I am not sir Reginald." she said and lowered her head a slight tear in her eye.

Sebastian took notice of his youngest daughter's tears and gently stood from his seat and helped the young girl out of the box too her nurse maid. "Take her where she can collect herself." he told the servant and sat back down in his chair. Looking at each of his remaining daughters he asked, "what do you think of this young knight?" he asked referring to Terrowin. "He seems eager, if not over ambitious."

next opponent was a member of the Knights of Kardellia, and secret order devout in retaining the royal bloodline's honer. A Order sworn to follow only the true rulers of Kaarviel and Caldomaa and not any other pretenders.

Eyes laid upon the book, reading each line, her eyes going back and forth vigorously. Upon hearing her mother's voice, however, she stopped and gave the woman her upmost attention. "I suppose not all too bad," she commented, "though he was rather silent so there wasn't too much that I needed to tolerate of him." With that said, her eyes lay back in the book.

Soon after, she was spoken to by a young female. It was Reagan, curious of the material she was reading over. Her gaze went up and over to the small child, her lips forming a slight smile. "If you would very well like to know," Genevieve moved the book and patted her lap, "you can sit with me. I would not mind reading it to you." Before there was even a chance, the young girl seemed upset, and when she herself looked she saw Reagan's idol defeated and upon the ground.

Genevieve could not understand her young sister's affection for such a brute. The girl could only shake her head and look back down. Things within the pages were much more interesting than what was going on around her. At least in a book she was never bored.

A sigh escaped through the young princesses lips. Once again she was torn away from what she enjoyed most, only to look upon the grounds to the two knights. "Honestly," she spoke, looking back down, "I've no opinion at all."

“Good, as long as he wasn’t inappropriate, I have heard plenty about that boys reputation” Desdemona grumbled, a rather unusual action for the Queen to do, she was usually gracious and courteous towards all, however Prince Desmond of Galirel did not sit well with her, perhaps it was just her motherly instincts wanting to protect her daughters from such a cad or perhaps it was something more, either way she greatly disliked the boy.

The Queen turned her attention back to the tourney, although she was particularly enjoying herself, yet you would not have been able to tell, her poise and grace was a well practised façade, many could seldom guess on the Queen’s true emotions save her husband, he always seemed to know how she felt, something which she both loved and despised at the same time. She watched as Regan’s favourite competitor was de-saddled and the small pout on her youngest daughters face showed her discontent at the situation, the queen couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

“Don’t fret sweetling, I do not think he was harmed” Mona cooed reaching out to lightly squeeze Regan’s hand in a motherly gesture.

It was then Sir Nikolas entered the arena upon his steed, donning armoury she didn’t quite recognise. Mona looked over to Matilda, her happy smile radiating from her pretty face, so Nikolas was competing for the hand the hand of her second eldest, it all made remarkable sense now. The longing stares, the fierce protection, Nikolas was in love with her daughter.

Mona shifted in her seat at this revelation, Nikolas was a good man, kind and honourable, she should want nothing more for her daughter, but he had no titles, land or wealth, he had risen through the ranks, he was not born into them and that would pose a problem, especially for Sebastian.

The Queen bit her lip as she looked at her husband, his face red with rage “husband please think before you act rashly” Mona tried to soothe, knowing it was nearly useless trying contain the King when his anger took over. Looking back at her daughters, Mona forced a smile, trying to ease their worries, however the look on Aleiia’s concerned her, following her eldest gaze the Queen’s brown hues landed upon a fallen elf who’s eyes were solely fixated upon Aleiia.

Mona almost stopped Aleiia as she rose to her feat and approached her father but she knew Sebastian’s anger very rarely stretched to his children. Her words seemed to work and Mona quickly spotted a change in her husband’s demeanour, “You shall meet him at the feast, just as you will meet all the champions today.” Mona looked at Sebastian with anger in her eyes, how could he be so dismissive.

Reaching out, the Queen gently took Aleiia’s hand, pulling away “Darling sit back down” she commanded lightly, fearing a scene being made, she made sure her eyes connected with her eldest daughters silently speaking ‘I shall talk to him.’

---

Matilda was stunned at her father as his anger erupted in such a public place; so much was happening in such a short space of time that her head began to pound. Pinching the bridge of her nose, the princess closed her eyes briefly, waiting for the pain to pass. Although, upon hearing Nikolas’s name come from her fathers lips caused her head to shoot up and towards her father, then towards the tourney grounds.

Toward them rode a man upon his horse donning the armour of the Crimson Riders, she rose to her feat and hurried towards the barrier, not being able to contain the smile on her face, who cared what armour he wore, you only had to speak to Nikolas to know that he was a changed man, it did not bother her what he did to feel empowered just so long as he won.

Yet her father’s anger was threatening to boil over, turning back to him her cool blue eyes narrowed “Father please!” she pleaded in protest “Sir Nikolas is a good man and I would be honoured for him to fight for me in this tourney” she replied stubbornly, she would not relent, never. Mattie wanted Nikolas as much as he wanted her and once she set her mind to something there wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do to get it.

Aleiia then rose and tried to sooth her fathers anger towards Nikolas by putting herself in the firing range and declaring she had found a champion and an elf none-the-less. Matilda was thankful for this and she took the opportunity to turn back towards Nikolas, her eyes pleading with his to be careful, her father’s wrath was unprecedented and it would not have taken much for him to send him to the dungeons. Closing her eyes, she let out a small, barely audible whisper, which travelled upon the wind to Nikolas’s ears. “Should things turn sour, gallop away from here and don’t look back. I shall meet you upon the opening to the Forgotten Forrest at midnight.”

After she sent her message, Matilda watched as a rider approached her knight, her eyes widening as they removed their helm, tresses of brown curls spilling down her back. Her father erupted, “Gregoir, arrest that woman!”

Sebastian sat down his heart beat easing as the man close his eyes. His mind wandered to days long gone, when his daughters were all but tadpoles in a pond. When his biggest concern was whether or not his daughters would be seen at court that day. Simpler times, when he did not need to think of the future.

He opened his eyes to see an aged wife sitting beside him, and a different tournament before his eyes. He felt older, greyer then he had before. All but one of his daughters had fled from his side, married now with their own families. He was a Grandfather, one day his grandson would take his place upon this throne and led their people into a new age.

Now it was Regan’s time to choice her husband, she looked so beautiful. As the young men came galloping for her favor, Sebastian couldn’t help but notice her smile the same smile that he saw in his other daughter’s so many years ago. A young man, very young came, front and center lifting his helmet he pledged his loyalty and asked for Regan’s favor. She agreed and placed a garland on the man’s lance. It was rather unfair for the other men; his daughter had known this man her whole life.
“And too you, my King.” The man said, bowing genteelly.

“Good Luck, Sir. Sebastian Son of Kyren.” He smiled at the boy, his brother’s son and from the look at Regan’s smile, he champion. It was the same look he had seen on Aleiia and Matildas’ so long ago, and Genevieve’s when her time came.

Looking to his wife his kissed his love’s hand gently, knowing there time was nearly done. A new era was about to emerge, an era of a new beginning.

And they all lived Happily Ever After...