3Author's Note: As usual, characters and locations belong to Blue Byte and Ubisoft. Thanks for letting me ruin their lives.
Lady Alandra de Westerlin was having a bad day.
She'd thought that once the war with the Red Prince was over life would be easy. No more big battles, fears of invasion or traitorous colleagues. But no. Even apart from all the smaller conflicts since then, maintaining an empire was proving to be just as difficult as building one. She had a pile of paperwork to sign off, training to oversee, and supply lines to review before sunset tonight.
And to top it all off, she had a splitting headache.
She shoved back her hood and pressed her fingertips against her temples with a groan, leaning her elbows on her writing desk.
"Are you all right?"
She glanced up. Lord Marcus was standing in the doorway, transparent concern on his face. She hadn't even heard him come in.
Forcing a smile that was more tired than cheerful, Alandra stood up. "I'm fine. I just need to go and rest, that's all."
She walked slowly out and into the great hall of Vestholm Castle, leaving Marcus blinking at her.
...
"She all right?"
Marcus snapped out of his reverie and turned to face Lord Thordal, who'd just entered the hall from the direction of the stables. "She says she is."
"That doesn't mean much." Thordal nodded towards Alandra, who was going up the stairs. "That lass would say she was fine with an arrow in her leg."
"I heard that!" came a faint call from the top of the stairs..
Marcus shook his head at Thordal, suppressing a smile. "An arrow in the leg is a bad example. They aren't that bad, really."
"Speaking from experience, lad?" Thordal chuckled.
"Naturally."
The older knight grinned broadly, then frowned. "What about you?"
Marcus blinked. "What about me?"
"Are you all right?"
He shrugged. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"You've been sulking like a bear in hibernation for weeks."
Marcus grinned. "It's been less than exciting around here recently."
Thordal looked sideways at him. "True, lad. But I reckon you've got other reasons for being in the doldrums."
"What do you -" Marcus tailed off awkwardly as Thordal nodded significantly at the staircase. "Oh." He felt his cheeks grow hot.
Thordal threw back his head and laughed loudly. "I knew it!"
"What's so funny?" asked Kestral, sauntering in the same door Thordal had.
"Look at him," Thordal chuckled. "Boy's face is as red as his crest."
Kestral looked at Marcus for a moment, then grinned. "What did you say to him, Thordal?"
"Nothing," insisted Marcus, swallowing.
"Just hinted at the reason for his grumpiness and he starts blushing." Thordal grinned broadly. "Must have struck a chord."
"Struck a chord?" Kestral scoffed. "Rolled over it with a boulder, more like."
"You're completely mistaken. I don't even know what you're talking about."
"If you don't know, then how do you know we're mistaken?" Kestral raised an eyebrow. "Come now, Marcus, we're not blind. We've known for ages. Even Hakim knows."
"What do I know?" said Hakim, appearing through the stable door.
"About Marcus and Alandra."
He cocked an eyebrow. "I am aware there is a certain mutual interest, if that is what you are referring to."
"How did you all find out?" Marcus stammered.
"Hmm, what gave it away?" Kestral said sarcastically. "How you always take each other's sides in arguments? How you panic whenever she goes into battle? Then there's the specific instances, like the time I spotted you two on the stairs -"
Marcus' blush deepened. "That's enough," he snapped.
"Admit it," said Thordal. "You've both been down in the dumps because neither of you has the guts to speak up."
"It's none of your business," Marcus said rather lamely. He drew himself up a little, attempting and failing to regain his dignity. "If you'll excuse me, I have tax reports to file." He stalked off, leaving Thordal and Kestral laughing, and Hakim grinning smugly.
...
About half a hour later, the Knights of Darion, sans Marcus and Alandra, were gathered in their usual positions in the chart room of Vestholm Castle. Hakim and Thordal were studying a chart of Gueranna and discussing the rebuilding plans; Crimson Sabatt was sipping a cup of tea at the writing desk, occasionally pointing out the chart's inaccuracies; and Kestral was curled up in a chair just far enough away from the fire to avoid charring her hair.
"Apparently, a second storehouse needs to be built," Thordal said, gesturing to the town centre on the map.
"Is that really necessary?" Hakim asked with raised eyebrows.
"Yes, since you burnt half of the original one down," Sabatt said dryly, stirring her tea.
"We could just rebuild the existing one."
"And leave the people without a place to store their goods?" The former enemy, now ally, of the Darion Knights raised one delicate eyebrow. "Where is your concern for the common man, Southerner?"
"I think they need a nudge," mused Kestral.
"The common man?"
"No." Kestral shot Sabatt a brief death glare. "Marcus and Alandra."
"What about them?"
Thordal grinned. "Have you seen those two? They're besotted."
"I knew that." Sabatt rolled her eyes. "But what precisely does it have to do with us?"
Kestral drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair. "They're never going to act on it without help."
"And you're suggesting we give them that help?"
"Well, duh."
Thordal's grin widened. "What's your plan?"
"I don't have one. Yet. I was just wondering if you lot were willing to cooperate."
"Do you honestly think I wouldn't?" said Thordal with a laugh.
"Crimmy?"
Sabatt sipped her tea. "I fail to see how cooperation would benefit me. In fact, a pair of lovebirds around the castle is likely to do the exact opposite."
Kestral shrugged. "Fine then. Whatever."
Sabatt blinked, opened her mouth, then closed it. Kestral picked up the poker and stirred the fireplace for a moment.
"Of course," she said quietly. "It is an excuse to torment the pair of them as much as possible in the name of helping them."
Crimson Sabatt pursed her lips, then smiled. "I might as well. The denial in the air is beginning to make me sick, anyway."
All eyes turned to Hakim, who had listened silently to the entire discussion. He raised his eyebrows. "Do you not think it is a breach of privacy?"
"Of course it is," said Kestral.
Hakim gave a lopsided smile. "Very well. I shall assist."
"Good." Kestral jumped up, grabbed a map of Vestholm from the rack, and spread it out on the table with a flourish. "Crimson and gentlemen, we have a strategy to plan."