7. Jeanette
14 years old
"We have ten minutes to take down camp," yelled the captain. "Doreen, what is this mess? Jeanette, why aren't you taking down the main tent like you were assigned?...You forgot your own belongings? Well, that's too bad. Nina," she called, and she turned her gaze towards Nina, who knelt on the desert earth, rolling up the tarp from her tent. Her equipment sat in a reasonably neat pile next to Lehran, ready to be strapped to his saddle. The captain said nothing and went on. This part of military training, the organization and timeliness, came easily to Nina – it was really the only thing that had.
She balanced her tent bundle atop the rest of her gear, patted Lehran (who was half-dozing, eyes dim) while telling him to stay still just a few minutes more, and went to check up on how the others were doing. The captain had put her in charge of supervising supplies and camp for her squad. There was a joke that this was the role given to the squad member who wasn't good for anything else, but Nina knew that the captain was a stickler for spit-and-polish. Among all the squads, hers seemed to receive the fewest comments in this aspect, which Nina considered praise in its own right. Which was good, because she had no lack of criticism anywhere else, even these two years in.
But that could have been said for everyone. All of the trainees had their own stories of personal tongue-lashings or punishment from Captain Cordelia, and the saving grace was that they had received them in relative privacy. The captain used many tactics to keep them in line, but humiliation wasn't one of them – and it was a lot easier to commiserate with the other girls about needing to scrub the stables for carelessly breaking a lance, for instance, than it would have been if one was called out and given the punishment in front of everybody else.
Nina helped Doreen take down her tent, then looked over her comrade's gear to double-check for scorpions. They were on the very edge of the Plegian desert, close to Ylisse and surrounded by loyal cities. Over the past couple of years, Lucina's offense against Risen that remained in Plegia had morphed into a campaign against the surviving followers of Grima who had been directing them. Years after the Fell Dragon's defeat, members of the Grimleal clung to power in Plegia, and had started to regroup somewhere around the city of Istra. Lucina had made it her mission to track them down and force surrender. It hadn't escalated to the level of an all-out war, but this expedition of Nina's had been the first full-corps field mission – trainees, squires, and knights – in months, and rumor was they were preparing in case they should be sent to fight in Plegia again.
When Doreen's equipment proved scorpion-free, Nina looked over at the rest of her squad, and considered telling them to hurry up. If they didn't move soon, she'd remember that she was burning hot and sweating, and that dirt blown by the warm wind stuck to her hair and face and the backs of her thighs.
She was fourteen and a half, and set to complete the initial stage of her training within the year. If they were really sent to war, this might be her life before long.
As she stared into the distance, she saw a flying creature heading towards them from behind a crag, swerving and dipping in the air as though it might fall any moment. She was about to call out to the rest of the squad when others noticed also, murmuring and pointing.
Jeanette ran over from her own squad, looking over her shoulder every other second. "Do you see that?" she called to Nina, her face twisted in fear. She grabbed Nina's arm and watched beside her.
"It'll be fine," said Nina, though her own voice betrayed her. "No matter what it is, there's one of them and dozens of us."
Somebody had fetched Captain Cordelia, who rushed over to get a better view from near where Nina was standing. "Is it one of ours?" asked the captain. But it was soon apparent that the faltering creature was a rare wyvern with a rider.
"It looks like they mean to land," said one of the knights.
"I don't think they have a choice," said the captain. "Any of you who are finished packing, take your lances and follow me!"
"I'm going," said Nina as she detached herself from Jeanette. Jeanette gave her a knowing nod, still looking worried. Nina roused Lehran and followed the captain alongside a few other girls to meet the arrival. By the time they reached the newcomer, both rider and wyvern had landed – it was more of a competent collapse – on the desert earth.
The captain did not bother to land. "This area is currently occupied by the Ylissean Pegasus Knights. State your business!"
The man on the wyvern cried out in a hoarse voice. "Milady, I come bearing a message from Lucy for the Exalt."
The captain seemed taken aback. "And what would that be?"
"It is contained within this letter." The man, who was lightly armored, took an envelope from a bag at his hip.
"And is it good or ill?" asked the captain. She landed and dismounted.
"I know not; I was only told to bring it posthaste."
"Allow me to see it." The captain approached him and took the envelope. She flipped it over and examined the wax. "This is indeed her seal."
"Please, if you can send somebody to take that the rest of the way quickly...and if you would be so gracious to allow my mount and I to rest at your camp."
Satisfied by proof of Lucina's involvement, Captain Cordelia nodded. "That would be no problem. We were about to leave, but I will ask some of my knights to remain here with you until your wyvern can fly again. You've done well to bring this so far." She turned back towards her pegasus.
Before the captain could call anybody else, Nina flew forward. "Captain, please allow me to bring the message to the capital."
The captain regarded her. "For what purpose, Nina?"
"Should it contain bad news, it's better that my father learn it from me than anybody else. I wish to be with him as he reads it." The words spilled out of her mouth. She took a deep breath. "Also, Lehran and I were on the defensive side both this morning and yesterday. He has more stamina than most of the other pegasi to begin with; I know he's the most fit to fly the distance."
The captain's eyes softened. "Fine, then. Take it to Chrom. Do you wish one of the knights to accompany you?"
"No, it will be quickest if I go alone. I'll ask my squad to carry my equipment back."
"Leave quickly, but be sure you're prepared for the flight." She handed Nina the letter. "I will be counting on you. Godspeed, Princess."
In the span of minutes, Nina rushed back to the now-straggling camp, told her squad to split her gear amongst themselves, refilled her canteen from the barrel, and gave Lehran a leftover oat cake that he, sensing the mood, ate in record time.
"You're going to need it," Nina whispered to him. "Come on. Let's go."
They took off. Nina had her sister's letter stuffed securely in her saddlebag, despite the urge to clutch it to her chest with one hand. She dared not open it before bringing it to Father. She couldn't bear to. Lucina, presumably, had written it herself – that was good. But the urgency with which she sent it had Nina worried. It could be that Inigo had fallen in battle, or that Fiora had been kidnapped. It could be that she was trapped in a fort with her militia, besieged by cultists, running low on supplies. Or that the remnants of the Grimleal had organized enough to declare themselves a new ruler and a new nation, and were marching on Ylisse this very moment...
She didn't allow Lehran to stop, for if he did Nina was sure they would lose more time than they now gained by flying alone. They arrived in Ylisstol late in the afternoon. Nina dropped Lehran off at the royal stables, where he was well known, before practically barging into the castle, still fully armored.
"Milady, the Exalt took ill earlier," Captain Frederick told her when she asked about her father's whereabouts. "Pray wait until your mother is released from court –"
"I cannot," said Nina. "It's a message from my sister."
She rushed past him to the private quarters. Father had fallen ill. He hardly ever fell ill. Yet she wasn't surprised to hear it, what with how they were still rationing wheat in the cities from the year's bad harvest, and how one of the bridges to Perathi had collapsed, and – especially – the stress of the skirmishes in Plegia. Father had been saying that he meant to ride there himself if it came to war. He and Mother had actually had arguments about whether she would be best with him on the field or ruling from Ylisstol should the worst happen. Morgan had recently sent a letter saying he meant to visit for a while, and everybody thought it was obvious Mother had called him back to take whatever duty she didn't.
When Nina knocked on the door to her father's suite, it was opened by Emma, who looked deceptively innocent with her big eyes and her hair parted over her shoulders. Nina stared her down. "Let me in. I have a message for Father."
"No," said Emma, belligerent as always. "He's sick and I was told nobody should see him."
"Surely I don't count."
"I don't know if you count."
"Who put you up to this?" asked Nina. "Mother?"
"She's been busy all day."
"Abel?"
Emma glanced to the side. "He told me she was going to be busy all day, so..."
"Stop it. This is important." Nina went through the door anyway. Emma jumped aside to avoid her, then made a dash to get to the bedroom first.
"Father, Nina's here, she came in even though I said she couldn't."
"Nina?" came Father's voice from down the hall. "She wasn't to be back until nightfall."
"So I should tell her to leave? We're not even finished reading. Or, I was going to play my flute –"
"Emma, that won't be...let your sister in."
Nina ran into the bedroom, where her father sat in bed on top of the sheets, pale and still dressed in a day shirt. "Father, I'm sorry to disturb you, but I have a message from Lucina. I came ahead of the other knights to bring it."
"What?" Father's voice was hoarse. "Is there trouble?"
"I don't know. All I know is that it's urgent." She held the letter out to him, seal on top.
Father took it and stared at the seal. He broke the wax bit by bit and took out the letter within. First he frowned, but then his eyes went wide. "She's taken the fort in Mascos!"
"What?" asked Nina.
"The main base. We've as good as won...well, she has, really...just look here." He was breathless.
Nina leaned over to read what turned out to be a rather short message.
...I wished to tell you discreetly, because I fear this news, were it to escape, may cause retaliation elsewhere in Plegia. As it is now we are planning to attack the remaining base before they have a chance to regroup.
I have avoided asking for reinforcements, but I would now request horses and pegasi, fifteen of each if they can be spared, sent to Istra as soon as possible.
The worst of this fighting is behind us. Please, as always, do not worry about me.
And with that, Father looked ten times better than he had before. Against Nina and Emma's protests, he got up out of bed and tracked down Frederick to tell him to begin rounding up the mounts. While still barefoot, he pulled Mother out of court to tell her the news in hushed tones that didn't stay hushed for long. He ultimately collapsed again while heading to write a response to be sent with the animals, and had to be served dinner in bed.
When all was said and done, Father insisted that Lucina make a visit to Ylisstol. She came back in winter, just before the new year, riding up to the castle with Fiora sitting in front of her, Inigo keeping his balance with a fractured arm beside her, and some of her militia from Istra following. Officially she was "Lucy", a relative of the Exalt's with a similar name, but no princess – but that was just a pretense, as Nina heard that much of the city knew who she was anyway. Princess, I have heard tales of your exploits in the war, and I have been praying for your success...I fought beside the princess in Valm at the Ingle...Princess Lucina, heroine of Plegia.
Nina wondered if there had been some miscommunication, and people really believed a fourteen-year-old had led the defeat of the Grimleal; or if people outside the castle really did know that she and Lucina were different, since nobody approached her in the streets offering their thanks and praises.
"Ah, you'd be surprised how many people know that the Exalt has two older children," said Andronicus, the husband from the Feroxi cafe.
"Really?" said Nina, who was sitting alone at the counter today. "How much older? People don't wonder how he could have children that were of fighting age during the last war, or something like that?"
Andronicus shrugged. "I don't think most pay as much attention to that as you think. They know there was a birth here, a marriage there, and assume that certain things aren't announced..."
"Nobody besides Lucina and her troops in Plegia even did anything during this conflict," Nina muttered under her breath. "Now half the city is acting as though they were invested in it."
Andronicus put down the mug he had been cleaning and slung his towel over his shoulder. "I've also heard her called a sibling, and nobody seems to have trouble believing that. To be honest, were it not for you and your mother coming here to spill your life stories, I don't know what I would think myself. Stranger things have happened since the Risen came."
(And therein lay the danger in visiting the cafe. Nina liked it enough to have made a habit of going herself, but there remained the mortifying possibility of her mother walking in one day to find Nina at the counter, or vice versa. Nina usually made her own visits during the castle's dinner in hopes to preclude this.)
"I don't..." She probably did divulge too much. She wasn't the one who had revealed Lucina's relation to the owners, though. "My mother wouldn't 'spill her life story.'"
"No, you're right...she only makes you think she did."
Nina covered her face. "Why does it feel as though my entire life is some sort of charade?" she muttered.
"What's that?"
"Andro, where did you put the milk from this morning?" Virginia ducked her head around the corner from the kitchen. "Oh, Princess! How good it is to see you." She came around to the corner and curtsied. Nina nodded in return. "Where has your friend gone, may I ask?"
"Ah..." Nina folded her hands. "Jeanette was...recently betrothed," she said, "and she arranged for dinner with her fiancé and his family this evening."
"Oh, this is news!" exclaimed Virginia, oblivious to Nina's tone. "You're both rather young. I expect the wedding won't be for some time?"
It was suddenly even more difficult to speak. "No," said Nina, her voice coming out high-pitched and short. She took a deep breath. "No, as I understand it, her family thinks she should marry within the next couple of months or so, so that...she can be married before she would take her vows as a knight."
Virginia's hand covered her mouth. "Does she intend to drop out?"
"I think so. I think her...fiancé wants her to. So that she won't be sent on duty."
"That's a shame," said Virginia lowly. "After all you two have put in."
Nina nodded.
The announcement had come out of nowhere – well, almost nowhere. For a couple of weeks beforehand, Jeanette had started talking about a friend of her family who had begun writing to her recently, a young man she had always enjoyed talking with in youth. And, when this was all it was, Nina had been happy for her. This young man had stopped by the barracks to watch one of their loosely organized sparring tournaments over the gate, and had caught Jeanette afterwards, asking her if she wanted to go out for dinner in the city. Nina had tagged along then, because Jeanette had invited her.
Stupidly, Nina hadn't seen what he had been getting at. As far as she was concerned, it had just been a reconnection of childhood friends. But Jeanette had disappeared for dinner a couple of times after that. A few weeks later she had gone home for a weekend, and when she came back, she was engaged.
There were few secrets in the barracks. Captain Cordelia, of course, had to be told directly, because Jeanette had to speak with her about leaving. Apparently, the captain sat down with Jeanette and spoke with her for a long time about whether she really wanted to leave the knights and go through with the marriage – not so much because of her age or because of the quickness of the engagement, but because she and Nina and everybody else knew that Jeanette's family had been having problems with money recently, and the captain feared that this arrangement wasn't entirely of Jeanette's own will.
Jeanette insisted then, as she would to Nina when recounting the event later, that she wasn't stupid enough to get engaged if she didn't want. While it was nice to have her parents support her in something for once, she said she wouldn't let them boss her around if she didn't want to be married – since it would be easy enough to continue until she was knighted and then be largely free of them if she so chose. But now that she was going to be married, she had to admit that she was somewhat relieved to have a reason besides cowardice to not go off to battle, should there ever be one.
It all sounded very much like Jeanette, which was why Nina couldn't figure out why it made her so angry. She was saddened that Jeanette was leaving the knights, of course; but that was something she had half-expected for the past several months. No, the thing that bothered her most was the fact that some boy, some person she didn't know, had the gall to get close to Jeanette so quickly and so stealthily that Nina hadn't realized it, and had gained so much sway over her so as to be responsible for her leaving. Not only Jeanette had fallen for it, she had also neglected to tell Nina anything about it until after it was done.
Nina left the cafe and kicked at every rock in the road on her way back to the barracks. After she switched Lehran to his flying tack and flew him back to the castle, she indulged him a sugar cube while she stuffed one in her own mouth, and aired senseless complaints to him as she brushed his wings and coat. Once he was set for the night, she proceeded to go to the training hall to jab at some leftover target with a practice lance in hopes of working out the ache in her chest.
It was poor form to wallow in her annoyance while everybody else at the castle was so joyful, not to mention impossible under the scrutinizing gaze of Captain Cordelia at the barracks, so Nina tried her best to keep herself in check. She worked herself as hard as she ever had in training, made herself smile through state and family dinners, and grew nearly as quiet as Abel anywhere else. If Jeanette or her family noticed, they certainly didn't say much.
Her sister had been away so long that her renewed presence at the castle was strange, to say the least. Nina realized now how much the difference in their ages meant. There were new lines on Lucina's face, and she was beginning to look more like Mother as they both showed signs of age. Lucina wore her hair up now, and her straight-backed posture had lost its stiffness, like it had ceased to be a formality and was finally the way her body naturally stood. She moved effortlessly among other adults, accepted compliments with a curt nod as much as her own smile, and laughed in an honest, breathy way that was far from how Nina perceived her own girlish giggle. She looked like a military leader – she looked like a woman. And when Fiora pulled her arm for one thing or another, she smiled in a wan, beleaguered way that made her look like a mother.
Inigo was much the same as he ever was, though partially confined to a splint. He made up some new fake story to explain this to the younger children practically every day, increasingly embellishing the tale as it went on until they screamed in laughter at each new absurdity. He was very good with them – particularly Emma (who tried to argue him into admitting his bluffs as early as she could) and Imogen's younger brothers (who were now visiting in residence as well.) Fiora, for her part, adored him. She had been born with her mother's blue eyes and her father's white hair and the Mark of Naga a bit to the right below her collarbone. She would grab on to one of her father's long legs to play at being pulled along, and climb onto his lap during meals. When Nina saw this, she found herself surprised by vivid memories of doing the same.
Since they were close in age, Emma and Fiora gravitated towards each other. But after repeated incidents of Emma presuming to talk for Fiora, including one in which she had insisted that it had been Fiora's idea to stay up late and try to sneak outside the castle after dark, Father had pulled aside Nina and Abel and Imogen – and Morgan too, who was a bit incredulous at being called with the rest of them – and asked if they would keep an eye on the two girls whenever they were together.
One Sunday evening, Nina had taken over this shift – the two were playing at the harpsichord above the great hall, and Imogen had stormed out with her hands up, saying she couldn't take the sound anymore – when Father and Lucina came up behind her on the balcony.
"Well, it took them long enough to discover that," said Father.
"Now that we can expect a fair amount of stability, I've been thinking about getting an instrument for the house," said Lucina. "It would be nice if Fiora and I could learn together. I regret that I haven't been able to spend time with her since this began."
"Don't. She'll understand, if she's anything like you."
"At this age?"
"Maybe not. I think she'll just be happy to have you back more often."
Lucina shook her head. "I can't imagine three."
"Or five, for that matter?"
She looked away, smiling. "Inigo probably can. Which, to be honest, scares me sometimes." She exhaled. "Still. I don't know what I would have done without him."
Father put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a solemn look. "I'm glad," he said. "Not about whether you wouldn't have known what to do, but – you know."
Lucina smiled again. "I know."
They were beside Nina now. "Nina, how are you?" asked her sister. "Are your ears bleeding yet?"
"No," said Nina. "It's worse when Emma plays alone."
There was an abrupt, cacophonous chord as Emma whirled around. "Hey!"
"Fiora, it's time for your bath," called Lucina. "The harpsichord will be here tomorrow." Fiora tapped at a few more keys before standing up from the bench, and they both left with words of good-night. Emma turned back to the keys with a grumble and resumed her attempts.
"Nina." Her father stood right beside her. "Is everything all right?"
A few days ago, when the question had first come, she'd stubbornly said she was fine and walked away. She'd avoided having to talk, but felt awful afterwards. This time she shook her head. "It's nothing to be worried about. I've just...been a bit angry with a friend recently."
"Is this your friend in the knights?" Now Father placed his hand on her shoulder. "Would you like to talk about it?"
Nina didn't think she could properly explain the depth of her mood, nor the reason for it. "Not right now." When Father shifted like he meant to speak again, she continued: "It's not something I think I can do much about besides move past it."
"I see." Father made a sound like a sigh, but it sounded more contemplative than frustrated. "Well...I'm not sure if this would help, but are you willing to speak with your mother and me right now? It regards something else we've been wanting to discuss with you for a while."
Puzzled and somewhat apprehensive, Nina followed him as they left Emma to herself on the balcony. By Father's manner, she didn't think it was anything bad – in his view, at least.
Perhaps, now that she was nearly an adult, her parents had taken a page out of Jeanette's parents' book and were going to encourage her to find a nice young suitor soon.
(She thought of Father's persistent bearing towards Inigo. Right. As if.)
They went to the study, where Mother was waiting at her perpendicular half of the desk. Father moved a third chair from the side in front of the desks, then went around to sit in his own. Nina angled the new chair so that it was facing the junction and sat down.
Her parents looked at each other. Father gave a half-shrug.
Mother spoke first. "Nina, you know that as the first child born to us in this time, you are officially the crown princess of Ylisse. Therefore, we've decided that now is the right time to begin teaching you how to rule the country one day."
Nina blinked. "Me? Still?"
"Yes." Father looked a bit confused. "You. Still. You've done nothing to take yourself out of the running."
"Well...I thought you might want to make Lucina the heir, after all the success she's had in Plegia and whatnot."
"Well, while I'm sure Lucina would be as fine as you for it, you know why that can't be the case."
"Because she shouldn't properly exist? But that's not how it is, Father; I've heard people talking about her, all throughout the capital. Everybody more or less knows who she is now."
"Ylisstol is hardly the entire halidom –"
"No, Chrom, she's right," said Mother. "That's no longer the problem it may have once been. And it's no use pretending we didn't leave openings for Lucina or Morgan to take over should something have happened when she was young." She turned to Nina. "The main thing, Nina, is that they are no younger than we are. Your father and I don't plan on dying anytime soon, so there's a sizable chance that by the time we're both gone, neither of your siblings will be fit to take over the country themselves, much less have any significant reign." She folded her hands on the desk. "Now, should something become of us earlier, we've made it clear that they are to help you rule. But it is important that you learn to carry out the responsibilities of the Exalt on your own, because what a nation needs more than succession in itself is good and consistent governance."
Nina stared at her lap.
Mother's voice was direct. "Nina?"
"If it's primarily about age, then," said Nina, "why don't you educate Abel? Or Emma, for that matter?"
Her parents looked at each other again.
"Because – that's not how it works," said Father eventually. "The Exaltship passes to the oldest child of each generation. That's how it's always been, in almost every monarchy in the world."
"And Lucina and Morgan might as well be part of our generation," continued Mother. "So if we discount them, the succession falls to you, as expected." She continued to look at Nina a minute more. "Nina, why do you look so shocked? You have always known that there was a possibility for you to rule."
Father glanced towards Mother and shook his head, just slightly. Then he leaned forward. "I know this may seem overwhelming right now. But that's why we want to ease you in."
"Are you going to have me dismissed from the knights, then?" said Nina. "Seeing as how I'd be a part of their ranks come June –"
"No, Nina. The pegasus knights are the best place for you. Gods, I'll bet you've learned half of what you need already from training and patrols. All we're asking of you for now is to make time here so your mother or I can introduce you to our duties. Captain Cordelia will accommodate that."
"I don't accept special treatment." Nina's voice came out sharper than she'd meant.
There was silence. Father sat back. "Nina, you're a princess. You've been receiving special treatment all your life. Now you're approaching the part that supposedly justifies it all."
"I..." Nina's hands bunched in her skirt. She shook her head. She wasn't receiving special treatment in the knights – was she? The captain had no patience for her at the beginning. "But that's why – why in the knights – I've, I've never asked..."
She felt her eyes grow hot, and started blinking frantically to keep the first tears at bay.
Mother held out her hands before her. "Nina, what has gotten into you?"
Father reached for her arm. "Robin –"
"I'm asking this honestly," she insisted. "Your father's right." She searched Nina's face with worried eyes. "Is the succession really what's making you so upset? Or is there something else?"
When Nina didn't answer, she kept talking. "You've been walking around like a revenant for the past week. You've hardly said a word to any of us. Even Morgan says you won't talk to him." This was true, and Nina felt a small spike of guilt. "I know your father's tried to ask you what's wrong, and you won't answer him, either. Now it's showing up here –"
"Robin. Listen, she talked to me before we came –"
"There's nothing to talk to you about!" Nina exclaimed. "It's something ridiculous, it's nothing I should be bothering everyone about –"
"It is something you should be bothering us about, if it's going to upset you this much!" Mother took a deep breath. "Nina, we're your parents. We're worried about you. I just don't understand why you feel you can't talk to us about whatever this is."
"Are you saying you want me to tell you about everything? Because I doubt you'd have the patience for even a day –"
"That's enough," commanded Father, and the room went silent. He put his hand on his forehead. Then he looked up. "Robin. I talked to her earlier." He turned to Nina. "Nina. Do you understand what we are asking of you in regards to the succession?"
Nina nodded.
"Good. That is all that I wanted for tonight." He steepled his hands in front of his forehead.
Mother was looking away, biting her lip in a frown.
"May I take my leave?" asked Nina.
"Yes," said Father.
Nina stood up. As she was turning, Mother spoke. "Nina. I only wish that you don't feel the need to keep anything from us." She paused. "I know how much it can hurt...to feel you have nobody to go to."
She heard Father exhale at that. "I don't feel that way," said Nina awkwardly. "I just..."
"Don't want to talk about it," Father offered. "We understand."
Nina left, feeling oddly empty, as though she'd spent all of her previous pent-up emotion in her parents' study, even while trying to avoid the main issue. Now, as she thought of it, her anger with Jeanette really did seem trivial next to her new concern.
She was crown princess; she supposed she always had been crown princess. But it had become something she didn't think about, since it had been years since anybody had referred to her as such. The idea that she was not in fact the eldest princess had been long accepted by the whole of the castle, and Nina figured that many had assumed – as she had – that her much more accomplished siblings might as well be stuck back in the line of succession.
But apparently, they were already too old. Which Nina understood. She was, in truth, not surprised that the crown had fallen back to her – a proper princess, Marie had once called her – and, to be honest with herself, she didn't think that she would be entirely incompetent as Exalt, someday. It was more that she was afraid of having to prove her worth now, afraid that she would be failing the knights if she were distracted by royal matters now, when she had been looking forward to flying as a fully-knighted member in just a few months' time. Come to think of it, she had been too focused on training to learn the answer to the question Mother had brought up long ago – as a princess, would she even be allowed to be knighted?
Having lost track of where she was walking, she reached a dead end somewhere near the stairway to the servants' quarters, and a new thought came to her as she paced back. As the heir, she would be expected to marry and have heirs of her own at some point. Wouldn't she? The indirect line of succession existed in case the Exalt were killed in battle, or fell sick, or otherwise died young as the previous Exalt had. Nobody would think it wise of her to pass the crown to her brother at some old age. And everybody would say she should have a spouse to lean on and work alongside, since her parents ruled together in all things. Most things. Had her father's sister ever planned to marry?
It was dark, but not exceptionally late – barely seven-thirty, according to the clock in the east corridor. Nina wanted to clear her head, so she went outside and around to the stables to fetch Lehran and bring him to the barracks for some evening training.
She entered the castle stables to find a slight commotion: Lehran had gotten out of his stall, and was trying to harass some poor mare over the gate to hers.
"Stop it!" she said. Lehran looked towards her and fluttered his wings. Nina placed her hands on his neck and turned him, as calmly as she could, towards the stall he was usually in. It was locked. "How did you – no," she ordered, standing firm as he tried to jerk his head back around to get another look at the mare. "You're not supposed to be interested in girls without wings." With another few seconds of holding, he consented to being led.
The relatively small stables on the castle grounds weren't meant for pegasi, meaning there wasn't a mesh around the stalls to keep any from escaping. She'd always thought Lehran was too big to squeeze himself between the gate and the rafters, but apparently he'd figured it out.
He was much more agreeable once they were outside, where he pranced in place and flapped his wings eagerly. Nina gently ordered him to be still before getting on his back. She felt the bite of the cold air and wrapped herself in the riding cloak she kept in the stables, tucking it beneath her thighs, before finally giving him the command to take off.
Lehran was so dark that he was practically invisible while flying at night. On this night in particular, the knowledge gave Nina a strange thrill. If she wanted, she could fly off somewhere for a day and camp outside Ylisstol, or go to a nearby town. She wondered how long it would take for her family to begin searching for her if she were to do so. Would anyone realize she was gone until the next morning? And how long would it take for them to find her after that?
Not very long, Nina supposed, even if she went as far as she could and wore a disguise. Somehow she would screw up and leave a trail. No, if she were actually going to run away, she could start by not being dumb enough to bring her own black pegasus.
She was a princess, a knight-in-training, and now the formally designated heir to Ylisse. It couldn't be healthy for her to even entertain such a horrifically irresponsible fantasy.
"I shouldn't dream about running away," she murmured to Lehran, who probably couldn't hear her over the wind. "It would create more trouble than it's worth, wouldn't it? Besides, I wouldn't leave you."
It was easy enough to find the barracks by the remaining city lights, though Nina figured that Lehran could find his way there even if she were blind. She guided him to land in an empty training field. Few lights flickered from the main buildings; dinner was some time ago, and the knights would have been left to their own devices, though many would be preparing for bed already. Nina took Lehran to wait outside the armory while she went to get a lance and rings to hang from one of the quintains.
"Where are you going?"
Nina was stopped by a sharp-faced woman with auburn hair in front of the armory, leaning against the wall of the building. The woman was dressed smartly, but carried a sword at her side.
Nina frowned. "I'm a trainee. I'm here to pick up practice weapons."
"Not right now, you're not. The captain's talking with somebody. I'm pretty sure they don't want to be interrupted."
"Oh." Nina idly stroked Lehran's mane. "In that case, I'm waiting."
The woman scoffed – or laughed, it was hard to tell – and looked away. A minute later, though, Nina caught the woman glancing in her direction.
Nina quickly looked down. But then, feeling silly, she raised her eyes. "Are you Severa?"
The woman regarded her coolly. "And you would be?"
"Nina. I'm Lucina's...and Morgan's sister." She stepped forward and held out her hand.
Severa showed little reaction, and Nina wondered if the woman had recognized her after all. She looked at Nina's hand, then took it. "Nice to meet you, Princess." Immediately she stepped back against the armory wall.
Nina edged back towards Lehran, feeling oddly ashamed. Her very existence was probably a sore spot for the captain's daughter, who could have no counterparts in this time. The term "sister" couldn't have helped. What should she have said? The Exalt's daughter, and left it at that?
She glanced up. Severa was staring impassively out towards the bunks. If anything, she looked bored.
The armory door creaked open. "I'm sorry about that," said the captain, looking over the edge of the door. She noticed Nina. "Hello, Nina. Coming to practice even on Sunday?"
"I had some time," said Nina.
"And a good use of it. But remember that I expect you to be in top form tomorrow morning, all right?"
"I will be. Have a good night, Captain."
Wordlessly, Severa fell into step with her mother, and the two headed off. Nina waited a moment to see if somebody would follow them, then cautiously opened the door to the armory.
There was nobody in the front of the building, at least. Nina took a lance from one of the racks, and it was only when she walked around a few of the shelves to fetch some rings that she saw Jeanette standing silently at the end of a rack filled with spare breastplates.
Jeanette noticed her. "Hello, Nina."
"Hello." Nina stopped. "Jeanette, I saw Captain Cordelia leave just now. Her daughter said she'd been talking with somebody. Is...everything all right?"
Beneath her open cloak, Jeanette was wearing civilian clothes, a pale green blouse with short shoes and a skirt. Not even battle-dress, which Nina had taken to wearing even without her armor out of habit. "Oh, everything is fine. I was just talking with her about leaving and all that. I...moved out Friday, you know."
"Oh," said Nina. "That was...quick." She looked towards the back in a pretense of looking for the rings. "Well...she didn't give you any trouble, did she? I know you talked to her already."
"It was just more of the same. She doesn't think I'm making this decision for myself or something...it's so patronizing, you know? She did bring up how much has gone into my training, but I paid for my own armor and everything. It's not like we ended up going to war after all."
Nina knew the captain had a point: who knew how long it would be until there came a recruit whom Jeanette's pegasus would take to? Unless she was planning to buy him, also. "Are you making this decision all for yourself, though?" asked Nina. "I mean, not to leave the knights, but...to go off and get married."
Jeanette laughed. "Okay, but really, Nina...who makes a decision all for themselves? Unless you're going to...abdicate the crown, or something..." Nina looked back just in time to see Jeanette shrug, then walk idly down the rack of armor. She stopped, and gazed into a breastplate like she was entranced by her own faint reflection. A shy smile was mirrored there. "I mean, Bersch is...I'll admit I went into this thinking it would be enough if I just liked him – you know, I've known him forever, and he's not bad-looking, but I've been spending a lot more time with him and talking with him and...I think I'm starting to fall in love with him." A strange wonder came into her eyes, like she'd only figured it out as she said it. "He's so...gregarious, I guess, but I don't feel like he's ignoring me when I talk too much. And he's well-read and funny and he's really good at drawing..."
Jeanette fiddled with a strand of her hair, then looked up. She was right in front of Nina, eyes shining. "And, you know, it's – it's really nice to be kissed," she said, hushed as though there was somebody else to hear.
Nina had the mad urge just then to grab Jeanette by the shoulders and kiss her herself.
So she did.
It was quick, too quick to think through. Her hands on Jeanette's shoulders, warm through her blouse, a brush of smooth soft lips – then, because she knew in the back of her mind how selfish she was being, she pulled back. Her heart pounded. She saw Jeanette draw breath again.
Jeanette stared somewhere around Nina's chin, mouth slowly falling open.
Nina needed to say something. "Like...like that?"
Jeanette lifted a hand to her lips. "What is wrong with you?"
Nina dropped her hands from Jeanette's shoulders just before Jeanette twisted away, then stood dumb as Jeanette pushed her aside and ran down the corridor between racks and out the front door of the armory.