The first thing that Aylar noticed about Leonidas' new appearance was the nature of it.

  It was not a tame beauty, like a courtly tapestry or regal painting, but a primal one; beautiful the way a naked blade could be beautiful, and gorgeous the way a roaring maelstrom was gorgeous when viewed from behind powerful wards. The armor did not merely encapsulate him; it announced him, turning the First Archon of Terran Blood into an icon, a warning, and a beacon of order all at once.

  Aylar had seen Leonidas fight in the Arena, like many others. She had watched him stand after surviving attacks and calamities that should have killed him, but she had never seen him framed so… imperiously—alone, unmoving, and willing to become the living fortress between what he saw as his charges and, seemingly, the entire world.

  She realized she was staring after a moment, and, as gracefully as she could, she shifted her gaze toward the nearby lawn near the statuesque human Archon.

  The lawn, it seemed, told the rest of the story: seven Haelfenn sat cross-legged in the grass, weapons piled nearby in surrender. An eighth lay wounded and pale, a ninth lay dead—torn in half by what looked like a detonation—and all of them stared at Leonidas with the hollow, careful stillness of people who had seen an apex predator’s fury, and decided against testing it again.

  Off to the side, she noticed belatedly, sat a blonde Haelfar noblewoman. She was slumped like a discarded doll, weeping without dignity, and clutching at her abdomen as if she had lost something precious beyond reason.

  “Dagger-Master,” Aylar called in English, while turning to the Dawnguard’s officer, identified by his mark of rank and plumed helm. “I would like to understand what is going on here. Why is there a full Dagger of Haelfenn mercenaries, including two injured and one dead, on the lawn of a Terran domicile? Why is there a Dagger of the Dawnguard here, so far from the usual Residential Quarter patrol routes?”

  “Your Highness,” the Dawnguard Dagger-Master said politely, his expression tense with displeasure at speaking English, but respecting Aylar’s unspoken wish for it anyway. The Haelfenn could learn it easily after all; most simply refused to. “I am Dagger-Master Valerian Cade. I arrived here with all haste in order to respond to reports of a threat manifestation within the Terran—”

  “Lie,” Leonidas said coldly, his voice cutting through the Dagger-Master’s words like an unsheathed blade.

  Valerian looked back at Leonidas with an expression mixed between uncertainty, fear, and hatred—then turned back to Aylar.

  “Despite what the First-Sword believes, your highness, that is the truth!”

  The declaration of title sent a ripple through the Royal Guard present, and more than one turned to first look at Aylar in shock, and then stare at Leonidas in stunned uncertainty.

  First-Sword?! Aylar thought in bewilderment, barely recognizing Tychar staring a hole through her. What? Since when? How?! Only the Crown can appoint a First-Sword! That gives him status above the Royal Guard, what the hell is going—

  +{Focus, Aylar,}+ Ceruviel said sharply into her mind. +{I will discern the reason behind this presumption later, but do not correct him, and do not grow distracted. Roll with the blows. Divines only know what idiocy my Heir has gotten us into. Now we must extract something beneficial from the mess.}+

  Aylar sent a formless wave of thanks to the Dusk-Lord for helping her recover from the shock, and leaned on her [Heroine’s Will] to reinforce her composure.

  Thankfully, Valerian had not noticed her distraction.

  “I do not see any cause for concern regarding a threat manifestation here, Dagger-Master Cade,” Aylar said while stepping forward, resting her left hand on the pommel of her blade, while her right settled in at the base of her spine in an official posture. “If Archon Leonidas does not believe there to be one either, then by what grounds are you still here?”

  To this, Valerian did not waver, but instead bowed his head as if in thanks, and then pointed at Leonidas.

  “Your Highness, I implore you not to be fooled by this lowly Terran. Though he may have won your trust as First-Sword, I fear you have misjudged! By his own admission, this Terran has committed a capital crime: he has destroyed the Core of a Lath-Var!”

  Aylar translated the words ‘Lady of High Birth’ automatically in her head when they were spoken, and looked back to the weeping blonde seated on the grass. Her eyes narrowed, and she looked toward Leonidas. He hadn’t, sure…?

  “Is this true, First-Sword?” she asked, using the proper address and still wondering what the hells had happened.

  To his credit, Leonidas responded without missing a beat.

  “I have sworn testimony from these seven—” he motioned to the Haelfenn on the grass, each one looking like they’d prefer to be anywhere else “—that this woman, Lath-Var Baroness Caerynia Cartellis, planned to engineer an unlawful murder of a resident of Dawnhaven for the express purpose of kidnapping children. They will further testify that they were to enact this plan via aid received from a ‘sympathetic’ Dawnguard Dagger—”

  “Liar!” Valerian shouted and was ignored by Leonidas and Aylar both.

  “—assigned here before my arrival. The plan, insofar as I have been able to deduce, was that the Dagger would come and take custody of the children, while using the ‘tragic’ murder of one of their guardians—who would be naturally incensed by the kidnapping—as justification to place the children into ‘rehabilitative placement’.”

  Leonidas stopped after he made his report and looked down toward one of the Haelfar.

  “Lothran. Tell her,” the Archon commanded icily.

  The Haelfar whom he addressed met his gaze, flinched, and then turned to bow his head to her before nodding.

  “All true, Your Highness.”

  Aylar stared at the speaker and then turned to look at the noble daughter—Cerynia—with a mix of disgust and pity, but not regret. Now that she knew what was to happen, her fate likely may have been worse if she had been tried in a court; even with her father, the Count Cartellis, Aylar recalled, trying to bail her out of the consequences.

  “What brought about the Sundering of her Core, First-Sword?” she asked Leonidas simply.

  “I decided her guilt, her sentence, and carried it out,” the Terran answered steadily.

  “Under whose authority?!” Valerian demanded, as if asking the same question another time.

  “The only authority that matters, you sniveling rodent,” a familiar, scything female voice said as a pressure washed over the area, and the Dawnguard contingent suddenly became very, very still. Valerian turned slowly, face draining of color as Ceruviel Latherian approached the gathering with the clank of her moonsilver sabatons. “You enacted the Archon’s Mandate, I presume, Achilles?” she called to her apprentice.

  “I did, Dusk-Lord,” Leonidas answered formally.

  “The Archon’s Mandate covers all actions taken leading up to an Archon’s Mandate, Valerian,” Ceruviel explained curtly. At the same time, her gaze idly roved over the scene and settled on the Dawnguard Dagger-Master. “Any desire to refute the judgment of an Archon’s Mandate is lawfully handled by either the Archon presiding, or in the case of an Initiate or Adept—such as my Squire, for example—issuing it, their direct Mentor. In that case, it would be me.”

  Valerian seemed to stiffen at the words, and the air pressure in the area ominously thickened as Ceruviel smiled. Aylar felt her heart rate spike in a mix of awe and natural fear at the sheer power the Dusk-Lord wielded, seeming for all the world as if she could wipe away any of them with a glance of her eyes—which, in all likelihood, she could.

  “Would you like to contest the Mandate, Valerian?”

  “...no, Dusk-Lord,” the Dagger-Master ground out, averting his eyes from Ceruviel. Aylar thought that was faintly amusing, like trying to pretend a predator couldn’t see you if you didn’t see it. “However, while that matter may be settled, the greater issue remains,” Valerian noted, reaching into a small, standard-issue [Bag of Space] to withdraw an elegant scroll, which he held up toward Aylar.

  “This scroll details our orders, your highness,” he said to her, trying so hard to ignore Ceruviel that he may as well have been staring at her.

  The scroll abruptly ripped free of Valerian’s hand and, after a moment, Ceruviel stepped forward to claim it from the air—giving him a withering look when he opened his mouth to protest—and casually made her way to Aylar’s side while unfurling it. The Duchess read over it quickly, her eyes narrowing the more she did, and then finally shook her head in disgust and offered it to Aylar.

  The Princess felt as much as saw the faint distortion of a soundproof bubble erected around them both by the Dusk-Lord’s will.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “{It’s an order from the House of Lords to remand the children into custody for ‘unlawful accosting of a Highborn’, and to scrutinize them for ‘threat manifestation deficiencies’,}” Ceruviel said in disgust. “{What an elegant way of breaking tradition and law for the sake of greed.}”

  Aylar accepted the scroll when it was offered and read it herself, perusing the text until she reached the end. “{Signed by Ilyna,}” she noted with distaste upon seeing the signature of her younger brother’s seneschal, safe within the bubble of force. “{That damned creature, Ceruviel. She is wasted on Braedon, but she refuses to see it. He sees her as a broodmare and nothing more.}”

  “{She sees a man she can control and put on a Throne, Aylar,}” Ceruviel said idly while taking back the document. “{Being used for breeding is hardly an impediment when it comes to those kinds of ambitions, no matter the sex of the person in question. In many ways, she is not so different from what you may have become, had I told you Achilles’ ambition too early.}”

  “{I would never have been so—}”

  “{I said ‘not so different’, not that she was a precise example,}” Ceruviel cut her off sharply and eyed the document. “{This is legitimate, but it was passed without my input, nor Uriel’s. Our authority can be circumvented at great cost, but this document fails to do so properly. It would need your signature, or Braedon’s, to be truly binding, and even then, words are not enough to force us to ignore genuine villainy.}”

  “{Is this another ‘power itself is power’ lecture?}” Aylar asked warily while eyeing the Duchess.

  “{No, just an example. When you are Queen, you will need to learn to be decisive, my dear. That is part of why your mother asked me to watch over you—so you would learn these things.}”

  Ceruviel turned as if to walk away, and Aylar cleared her throat.

  “{A moment?}”

  The Dusk-Lord paused and turned, eyeing Aylar intently. “{Yes?}”

  “{First-Sword…}” Aylar said thoughtfully and turned to look out at Leonidas. “{I don’t know how he managed to pull that one off, but we could use it. If he is appointed First-Sword, that gives him some advantages, like being able to stand in for the Royal Guard. As an Archon, he may be uniquely suited to that role, in fact.}”

  “{A First-Sword is the Champion of the Crown, Aylar, not the Guard’s leader.}”

  “{They still command the Guard traditionally, but that’s irrelevant, yes. By appointing him, even though I’d be doing it retroactively, technically, he would be a valid stand-in for the bodyguards that would insist on going with me into the wilds,}” Aylar said while frowning in thought, and allowing her mind to puzzle over the issue. “{Think on it, Ceruviel: I would be high and clear of any unwanted watchers, potentially spies as well, and able to complete my Rite without anyone being aware of it!}”

  “{This all ignores the fact he is not First-Sword, Aylar Eldormer,}” Ceruviel said dryly. “{The moment Braedon returns, he will contest it and be done with it.}”

  “{He will, but only after he returns—when I am already long gone,}” Aylar said with a self-satisfied smile. “{You tried, Duchess, but I saw through that problem easily. I will be long-departed before my erstwhile younger brother returns, and when I return, it will be as Queen-Potentiate. Oh! This also means that when Braedon challenges me, I could invoke Leonidas against him, with the precedent of him being my First-Sword prior to my departure.}”

  “{That is a technicality, Aylar,}” Ceruviel warned her. “{And far less likely to pass muster than the law we know will work.}”

  Aylar knew precisely what Ceruviel was referring to and idly locked her jaw in a way she was told reminded people of her mother. The Right of Representation was, traditionally, locked to spouses and future spouses—with the unspoken understanding that if a future spouse accepted the right, they would have to see the wedding through or risk social suicide in every way that mattered.

  Not even monarchs were exempt from those traditions.

  “{I do not want to use a duel as a scapegoat for him to marry me, Ceruviel,}” she muttered, looking toward where Leonidas stood vigil before the house, slightly above them at the zenith of the very mild hill, designed to stop torrential downpour from flooding the homes. “{If I am to marry anyone, I want it to be for the proper reasons.}”

  “{It is a romantic notion, Aylar, but you will have to stop thinking like a girl and start thinking like a Queen eventually,}” Ceruviel said ruthlessly. “{Your plan for the First-Sword, though, is not without merit,}” the Duchess said in a tone of disgruntled concession. “{Playing into it for now may make you look impulsive, and it may ruffle some feathers among your loyalists, but that will help root out the weaker pillars of support—plus it will be an advantage when you leave for your Rite of Ascension. We only have three more sunsets, including today’s, before your day of departure.}”

  “{What of this writ?}” Aylar asked, not needing to be reminded, but smiling faintly at Ceruviel’s muted but-not-invisible excitement. The Dusk-Lord wanted her to ascend desperately so that she could return to the business of protecting Dawnhaven without complication.

  “{I will handle that,}” Ceruviel said coldly. “{But to avoid my undermining you, you will need to deliver the verdict. You know what to say?}”

  “{Of course,}” Aylar said with no small amount of confident pride. She had paid very close attention during her lessons on appointed regency and colony governance in place of a Monarch. Ceruviel nodded in approval of her confidence, and the privacy bubble of psionic power vanished as Aylar turned and strode out before Ceruviel, marching straight toward the Dawnguard and Valerian Cade with her best ‘Princess’ face on.

  “Dagger-Master Valerian Cade!” Aylar said, drawing attention as she came to a halt halfway between the Royal Guard and the Dawnguard. “We have reviewed your document, and I have seen that it is, in the barest form, legal, within the—”

  Valerian, however, was not as shrewd as he thought he was.

  “Thank you, your highness!” he cut in eagerly. “We will proceed with taking the named persons into custody, and—”

  “I think you misunderstand, Dagger-Master,” Aylar said with genuine cold anger. “If you had not rudely interrupted Our royal person, you would know that the document you gave to the Crown does not constitute a properly binding order to circumvent the authority of the Dusk-Lord nor Dawn-Lord. The order, Dagger-Master, was signed only by the Seneschal of the Prince and the Arbiter for the House of Lords. It was not counter-signed by my own seneschal, nor was it given to the Dawn-Lord nor Dusk-Lord for a cursory examination, as is their right.”

  “I…” Valerian swallowed and smiled. “I apologize for overstepping with my interruption, most benevolent highness, but I assure you, proper consultation was—”

  “Are you saying I am senile, Cade?” Ceruviel cut in sardonically. “Or are you implying I am too doddering to recognize a remand order?”

  “I—Ah, that is, no, your grace, Dusk-Lord, I mean,” Valerian said in what Aylar would generously call a state of semi-controlled panic. “I am sure, however, that the Dawn-Lord—”

  “If you say what you are about to say, Cade, and it is a lie, Uriel will cut your head off himself.”

  Valerian froze mid-statement, his breathing hitched in uncertainty, and Aylar felt a wry smile curve along her plush lips. “Dagger-Master, there is no shame in this matter. You were operating under faulty instruction, using improper paperwork—is that not the case?”

  The Dagger-Master looked toward his Dawnguard soldiers, toward Leonidas, and the house behind him, toward the Princess, and finally toward Ceruviel—whom he looked at only long enough to verify, perhaps, that he wasn’t in risk of certain death.

  “...yes, Your Royal Highness,” Valerian Cade said finally, his voice defeated. “It appears that is the case.”

  Aylar smiled without genuine warmth and nodded in understanding.

  “Then you will remain with my retinue of Royal Guards, Dagger-Master, even past the Watch Change if needed—so that we can go and confer with the Dawn-Lord directly about the proper processes. Do you understand?”

  Valerian looked at her sharply, face paling, and then glanced at the Royal Guard, to Ceruviel, and finally to Leonidas—the one piece that seemed to drain the last of his color from him.

  “I understand, your highness,” he said woodenly. “We will remain here until you move out.”

  “Good,” Aylar said curtly, and then turned and stepped toward number 17.

  When she did, the Dawnguard, defeated mercenaries, and even some of the Royal Guard seemed to brace for what would happen—but Leonidas, despite everyone’s varied concerns, simply turned his helmet to her. Only a small part of her was relieved. The rest of her had trusted him. She believed that.

  “The children and their guardians are inside, your highness,” he said to Aylar with a voice that had no right being so regal and boldly masculine all at once. “I thought it best if you and Ceruviel arrived before I spoke with them, given the need for me to be, ah, a discouragement.”

  “It was a wise choice, First-Sword,” Aylar said warmly, stopping next to him with a whispered ‘Explain later’ when he tilted his armored head just slightly at her use of the title. A slight nod followed, and he turned back to regard the Dusk-Lord like Aylar did as she approached, simply drifting up the shallow incline with her hands clasped at her spine, and her feet hovering a few inches above the grass.

  “What a wonderful mess you’ve found yourself in this time.”

  Aylar winced at her scathing tone.

  “I learned from the best,” Leonidas replied with a faint shrug.

  “Hilarious,” Ceruviel said blandly. “Now, dismiss your equipment and come with us. I have a feeling these children will need to see you to know they’re safe. We need to get them out of here, too. This place is no longer safe.”

  “You know where I’d put them,” Leonidas muttered, still in earshot of Aylar.

  “I do, and for once, I may agree with you completely—just when I feared you had no brains left beneath that bravado and muscle, after all. Well done.”

  Leonidas turned on his heel and shook his head at Ceruviel, then turned his head to regard Aylar expectantly as the warplate on his body began to dissolve, streaming away from the brooch-united suit he wore beneath, and dissipating into streams of crimson and purple energy.

  The Princess-Royal found herself watching his disarmoring with faint wonder as the energy dissipated from his body, and in place of the obsidian-steeled behemoth, stood the tall, handsome, cultured man that Ceruviel had successfully created a crush for within Aylar.

  “Shall we?” the Princess-Royal asked, and turned to walk toward the house without confirmation, as much to hide her faint blush as anything else.

  “There is one more across the street,” Aylar heard Leonidas note idly to Ceruviel as they approached the house. “He’s getting impatient.”

  “I know,” Ceruviel said with a hint of gleeful confidence, as a loud BANG and BOOM echoed from across the street. “The Royal Guard is handling it.”

  Leonidas snorted a laugh, and Aylar smiled to herself.

  Now, let’s see these prodigious Terrans. Aylar thought while cautiously picking her way through a shattered doorway. I hope they aren’t too scared.

  Please comment on what you liked or with theories you have!

  40+ Advanced Chapters can be found on my .