He was not sure he was hearing quite right. "I am what?" He asked his father, his brain refused to process the merchant's words.

"She is from a very wealthy family, and with this marriage we could almost double our trading routes. The nobility does it all the time; we merge houses and move up in the hierarchy." Gunther had never heard his father sound so satisfied with himself, and if he did not already know the cause for such glee, he would have been worried.

"I can't be engaged. I have never met her, or her family. Have you ever met them?" He tried to sound as respectful as possible, but his voice was teetering on the edge of irritation. Marriage was the last thing on his mind right now; he had knightly duties that needed his attention, attention that one woman was already successfully deviating.

"I met her father once, many years ago. But we sorted it out by letter," Magnus put his hands together and leaned forward, his tone sobered to match his suddenly serious demeanor, "Gunther, you are the heir to everything I own. Everything I do, I do for our lineage and for you. It is time you did something for us."

"Are you going to ship me to the continent?"

"Don't be silly, you can't just get up and leave; you are a knight of the kingdom. She will move here." Magnus leaned back and settled into his chair. Gunther could almost hear the poor chair groaning under the weight, "Asturias is not as kind to its merchants as Kippernium, and they have no particular ties to the kingdom. But you are a knight. That was a strong selling point, boy."

Gunther pressed his lips together tightly, "Right, a selling point." He repeated almost mechanically. The bitterness of having his ambition reduced to a simple political tool was almost palpable. He looked at his father and narrowed his eyes in irritation. More infuriating than Magnus' failure to tell him that he had been engaged, months ago, without him having the slightest idea, was his refusal to do so before his bride-to-be arrived. Did he think the less notice he gave Gunther, the less likely his son would be to fight against it? Gunther had never said 'no' to Magnus, so why his father found it necessary to continually blind-side was beyond him. But to be fair, Magnus' way of thinking was beyond anyone with a shred of humanity or dignity.

"Now go change into something more presentable; they should be arriving this afternoon and you want to make a good impression." Magnus said. He shifted again and the chair groaned, as though calling out for help. Gunther looked at the chair almost sympathetically; he had never thought the day would come when he would understand a piece of furniture, but today that chair was his brother in suffering.

Gunther sat on the edge of his bed and let out a deep sigh. All his spare time went into helping his father at the docks, and so when Magnus told him he did not need to go to the docks today, he was excited. "I should have known better." He said to himself as he reached under his shirt and gingerly touched the bruise on his left side. She had gotten him really, really good today. Somehow, he had left himself open and that ever vigilant frog-rider had hit him with the fury of the gods. How she could hit so hard was beyond him.

He lay down on his side and curled up, so what if he looked like a child? He was a knight of the kingdom and could do whatever he pleased. And right now, what he wanted to do was sleep. He'd meet her some other day when he was not so sore, tired and annoyed. He fumbled blindly for the covers, and when he found them he pulled them sharply over his head, sealing out the world and its problems. But that didn't work because in what had to be fewer than five minutes there was a sharp, impatient knocking on his door. "Gunther, they are almost here. Come down immediately!" Magnus' much, much less than welcome voice seemed to have no regard for the door that stood between Gunther and Magnus, because it simply boomed through the room as though he were standing inside, hovering over Gunther's bed like some immortal mosquito.

Gunther reluctantly sat up and pushed away the covers. If there was a day he had been more irritated than he currently was, he definitely could not remember it. He quickly changed his clothes and tied back his hair. He would go down, greet his future wife, and then leave her so she could go get some rest. If she travelled all the way from Asturias, she had to be deathly tired, which meant he could also catch up on some much needed sleep; free time was a rare luxury for him.

"E si ele é feio, o que devo fazer? Não quero as crianças feias." Gunther could hear her from the top of the stairs but he had no idea what she was saying. He spoke his fair share of languages, so would it have killed Magnus so sell him off to a family who spoke something he understood?

She was so engrossed in complaining to her father that she had not notice Gunther coming down the stairs. "Ja vi seu pai, ele será gordíssima."

"Elvira Petri" He said, bowing slightly.

She turned to face him and her words instantly died on her lips. Ethereal was the only way to describe her; she was so pale that every courtier between here and the continent must have been writhing with jealousy. Her thick dark hair was pulled back into an elaborate braid that hung over her shoulder, and was studded with so many gems that Gunther immediately understood why Magnus was so excited about this marriage. "Sir Breech." She said with a heavy accent as she curtsied. She looked up at him through her heavy dark lashes, her red-tinted lips turned up into an alluring smile. There was no denying she was beautiful; any man could see that from miles away, so Gunther could not help but wonder why the only thing he could think of was going back to sleep.

"Thank you for making such a long journey here, I hope it was not too taxing a trip." Magnus sounded like he was trying to make a deal, but trying just a bit too hard. If Gunther were a better man, he would have told Magnus flatly that his sycophantism was embarrassing.

"Not at all; we made frequent stops along the way. You can't travel such a distance with a woman and not expect frequent, lengthy stops." Laurencius Diaz was a mirror copy of Magnus, if a bit rounder and sleazier. Gunther shuddered; if this was the inevitable fate of merchants, he was glad his father forced him to become a knight instead.

"Gunther, show the lovely Elvira around the manor whilst her father and I speak." Magnus said, Gunther could almost see the greed dripping from Magnus' words. Wouldn't a trade link that went from the tip of the isles to Afrikiya be the perfect wedding gift for Magnus?

"You don't actually have to walk around right now; you must be far too tired for that." Gunther was genuinely thinking about her well-being, but when she shook her head vigorously at his suggestion, he suddenly found himself thinking about his well-being.

"I am far from tired. I want to see everything; this is going to be my home and I should know it. But I want to start with the castle." She said, she sounded so happy that Gunther could not bring himself to be irritated anymore. "I want to meet the courtiers and noble. Oh, and I want to see were you work Sir Breech."

"Of course." Gunther said as he offered his arm. When she spoke about the castle, her large, liquid brown eyes lit up, and it was so endearing that he could not even think about refusing. It was as though he were dealing with a six year old princess Lavinia all over again. "We can walk through the village, just so you get a sense of what Kippernium is like."

"Walk?" She said sharply. She planted her feet firmly on the ground and refused to take another step, "No. The sun is far too bright for me to walk; I will burn."

"What?" Gunther asked in disbelief. He stared at her, this was twice in one day he was being forced to accept something that was, to any sane person, utterly ridiculous. She looked back to him with those soft brown eyes, the only colour in her face aside the deliberate rouge on her cheeks and her thin, dark eyebrows. Of course, he thought to himself, she could not be from Asturias and be so pale unless she lived in the shade; that kingdom did not even have a real winter.

"One of your servants could carry a canopy over me." She shrugged, as though she had not just suggested the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. Even Magnus would not do such a thing. "Call me spoiled or whatever you would like, I know what I want and what I don't want, and I don't want to walk all the way to the castle in the sun."

"We will use a carriage." He patted her hand gently.

She looked at him through her heavy lashes and smiled that deliberately alluring smile, "You are too kind."

Gunther's automatic reaction was to nod tersely and focus on the task at hand, but he had to be charming; she had not travelled across the continent just to be dismissed by her future husband. He smiled and touched her hand gently, "Anything for you." She turned her hand upwards so his palm was resting in hers, and she wrapped her fingers around his hand and then she did not let go. Even when she was in the carriage and gawking at everything in sight, she still kept her fingers wrapped around his hand. Although Gunther found this a little more than irritating, in the name of chivalry he chose to bear it silently. Perhaps if he just ignored it, he would forget that this random woman from Asturias had laid claim to his hand and simply refused to give it back.

As they neared the castle, if quickly dawned on Gunther that she would want to socialise with the courtiers. And if she spoke to them, she would learn why everyone hated the Breech family, a fact he was beyond certain his father had neglected to mention to her family. "Elvira I must tell you something before we get to the castle," The seriousness of his tone caused her to immediately shift her attention to him, "My grand-father made his fortune during a war. He traded with the enemy, so my family name may not be the most highly esteemed."

"That's it?" She asked flatly, "You sounded like you were going to say all your family's ships sank."

"I am seen as a blood traitor." He said slowly, not quite understanding her dismissal of something so serious.

"So one of your ancestors did something bad, whose family tree is impeccable? My family has also done some things that I am not proud of, but I am not my family and you are not yours." Her words felt like the gentle, inconspicuous touch of a friend. The kind of gesture made by only those close enough to you to notice your discomfort and try to ease it. Her snobbishness and unapologetic expression of whatever she wanted to do were armour. Just like his derision and swagger were also armour. "People like us will be called names all our lives, made fun of behind our backs, for things we have no control over. It hurts, but it makes us steel. It also gives us the license to do as we please; what are they going to do? Mock us like they are already doing?" She was looking out the window as she spoke, as though these words he had been dying to hear were simply throwaways. Gunther was staring at her, silently trying to mull over her words, when she let out the highest pitched scream he had ever heard.

"Are you ok?" He asked, the carriage was just pulling up to the front of the castle. She shook her head forcefully.

"Um dragão! Um dragão! Ha um dragão!" She said frantically through heavy breaths.

"You have to say it in words I understand."

"A dragon!" At her words Gunther's concern instantly dissipated. He looked up just in time to see the overgrown lizard land inside the castle. Of course anyone who did not know that dragon was just another citizen of Kippernium would panic at the sight of a dragon casually flying overhead. He knew it was a perfectly rational reaction, but could not help but think that she was being a little bit too dramatic. Jane was less than twelve when she climbed up the side of a mountain to confront a dragon on her own, if a skinny twelve year old could do that, Elvira could calm down and step out of a carriage.

"It's fine. He is an ally of the kingdom." Gunther said as he stepped out of the carriage. He offered her his hand but Elvira shook her head and scurried to the other side of the carriage. "Trust me, I swear I will protect you if anything happens." Gunther said in the most patient, charming and polite tone he could, because he was about two minutes from walking back home and leaving her there. She could cower in the carriage until midnight for all he cared.

After nearly half an hour of patient coaxing, she finally gave in and cautiously stepped out of the carriage. However, her fear meant that this time she laid claim to his entire arm and refused to give it back. Latched on tightly like some overgrown leech, she followed a mildly annoyed Gunther into the castle. Whilst Gunther appreciated how much affection she wanted to show, he was not the affectionate type so her constant touching him instead of being endearing, simply forced him to learn to ignore her. And it worked. All those years of learning a knight's discipline actually helped him forget about her arms wrapped tightly around his till he found himself almost wondering why people kept stealing glances in his direction. And then she would leap at the slightly sound, wondering if it were the dragon, and Gunther would be reminded that he had a woman clutching to him for what looked like dear life.

But this time she hadn't leapt. Elvira had not really said anything to draw his attention to her presence, but he suddenly found himself fighting the urge to shake or off his arm and erase any trace of affection. It was as though her grip had gotten tighter and heavier because now Gunther was painfully aware of just how inappropriate her actions were. But pushing her away would be rude, so he bore her weight as he walked over towards Jane who had noticed him and raised a questioning eyebrow at Elvira's death-grip. His steps suddenly felt awkward and clumsy as he walked towards Jane who took a break from arranging the newly sharpened swords to smile at him. It looked innocent enough but he knew she was mocking him; he had known her long enough to learn that nothing she did was innocent, especially when it came it him. So why did her clearly mocking smile make his breath catch in his throat every single time.

"You look like more of a mess than usual." Somehow in his mind insulting her first lessened the humiliation of anything she would say about his current predicament, and created some sense of normalcy in which Elvira could wholly be ignored until she was not quite there anymore. Misunderstand what? He was not quite sure of that. He was engaged to his new found dead weight and the only way to misunderstand would be to assume they were already married.

"I'd say the same to you, but that'd be implying that there are days on which you look good." She replied sharply. Her bright green eyes travelled from Elvira to Gunther and back to Elvira. Elvira's arm suddenly felt like hot iron wrapped around him. Finally, Jane bowed slightly and introduced herself. Elvira raised a questioning eyebrow at Jane; she had a streak of soot across her left cheek and her hand were slightly darkened from helping Smithy. Elvira ran her hand lightly up Gunther's arm and he had to physically fight the urge to push her away,

"Darling," She drawled in her thick accent, "who is that?"

Gunther unconsciously shook her off him and moved away slightly, putting distance between them and stepping closer towards Jane. A gesture at which Elvira frowned.

"Jane is my partner. We were squires together as children, and now we are knights together."

"There are just somethings you can't get rid of no matter how hard you try." Jane added. Again, with those sharp words and that mocking smile. Why couldn't he have thought to say that?

"She is a woman," Elvira said, her voice thick with derision, "or at least I think that is what she is supposed to be. Has anyone told her that? Does her family know she walks carries on like this?"

Gunther stared at her, lost for words. He was trying to understand what could have prompted her to act like that. "Excuse me? I am a fine woman and a finer knight for it." Jane replied. Her voice was calm and even, and Gunther knew that when her voice was this even, Jane was fighting to hold on to the last shreds of her civility.

"A finer nightwalker, you mean? I don't know what other kind of woman would travel alone around with a man she is not married to." Elvira, her voice cold and even, was working very hard to explain that Gunther was now hers and hers alone. She was not an idiot; she had felt Gunther tense under there touch the moment he saw Jane, and the way he had shaken her off was insulting to say the least.

Jane began to retort but before she could finish her first word Gunther cut in, his tone even more dangerously cold than Elvira's, "Jane is a finer woman than you could ever hope to be. If you wish to embarrass me by insulting someone, do not try your betters. Whilst I am being honest, the only person here who looks like a nightwalker is you, although I am not sure if you are pretty enough to be one."

Gunther could feel her staring at him, seething with rage, but he looked straight ahead refusing to grace her with so much as his attention. Furious, Elvira spun round and stormed off. He was not sure what exactly she was saying, but he did not need to understand Portuguese to know that she was insulting him.

"Who is she?" Jane asked, reeling from how awful that brief interaction had been.

"According to my father I am supposed to marry her." He should not have been so cold to Elvira and he knew it, because once they returned to the manor she would probably run sobbing to their fathers, and Magnus would be beyond furious, and he would have to deal with it all. But even if he could go back a few minutes, he would it would do it all over again. Word for word. Perhaps worse.

Ever since their first real mission together, when he saw how cruel the world could be to a female knight, he had been strangely protective of Jane to a degree that sometimes made him, himself, uncomfortable. He was even more protective of her honour; the first fight he had ever gotten into off the battlefield had been because some idiot thought it would be funny to grab Jane and proposition her in front of all the other knights. She would have put him in his place. But Gunther was faster than she was; before she could deliver one of her sharp, biting insults Gunther had one had on the knight's arm that was holding onto her, and other right between his eyes. The knight staggered backwards and Gunther hit him again, this time knocking him to the ground. Glaring at the fallen knight, he knew Jane would be furious with him because he had robbed her of the chance to prove that she could stand on her own two feet. But he didn't do it because he thought her weak; he was the last person who would ever make the mistake of underestimating her. He did it to let all those present know that anyone who touched her would have to fight two people. Or at least that was what he told himself his motivation was, because he forcibly buried that anger he felt seething in his chest at the sight of another man laying a hand on her.

"You probably should go after her." Jane said almost dismissively. Her suggestion smacked him like an insult, not they kind they shared because they had been doing so for years, but a genuine and cold insult. Not unlike the one he had just so kindly given his wife to be.

"I don't want to" Gunther replied. He fixed his eyes on the smudge of soot on her cheek, but decided to leave it there.

"Are you going to marry her?" Jane was being reasonable and he did not like it. He just wanted to arrange the swords with her and pretend that Elvira had never left Asturias.

"I guess so." He shrugged. Jane just looked at him, her unamused gaze made him acutely aware of just how childish he was acting. He had responsibilities, and they both knew it.

"This is why nobody likes you, Jane." Gunther said, surrendering to her more mature reasoning. Even as he left her, he could not help but think how much easier it was to be around her than anyone else. Gunther had only one thing of importance in his life, his knighthood. That was all that ever mattered to him, but once in a while when it was just Jane and him training, sitting and laughing together by a camp fire, or even just looking for an inn to rest along one of their journeys, silent from hours of travel, there was a close second.

When he reached the castle gates he realised Elvira had already left; he could not find her anywhere and the carriage was gone. Were he a better man, he might have felt bad because his words were harsh enough to make her run off. But Gunther was polite, not necessarily nice. He let out a short laugh under his breath before turning and heading back into the castle, perhaps there was still time to help Jane arrange the swords.