PO PREFERRED NOT to dress like a prince, but when he had to, he dressed true to Lienid tradition. He buttoned up his nicest shirt and matched it with trousers the stewards had brought him. He unrolled his sleeves and tied his hair up neatly. He let out a breath as he looked himself over in the mirror. He was ready for another dinner with King Randa… and perhaps a conversation with Lady Katsa.
Dinner was more lively this time around. The dining hall echoed with the king's laughter and orders for more wine, and rightly so. King Randa had good reason to celebrate, what with Lady Katsa returning home successful from Estill. Even though Prince Raffin was absent again from dinner, more stewards were bustling around in the hall than all of the staff combined at Po's castle back in Lienid.
Unfortunately, King Randa had sat Lady Katsa across the room from Po. Fortunately, she was easy to recognize and within viewing distance. She had cleaned herself up from her arrival as well: her hair was free from its knots and brushed neatly behind her. She had on a green silk dress, earrings, and heels, both of which accentuated the beauty Po had not had the chance to notice before. It was a simple kind of beautiful, simple yet elegant. One of her companions from her arrival sat next to her, and she talked to the man on the other side of her. If Po hadn't known better, he would have said that she resembled very much a typical lady of the court rather than the killer she was outside of court.
That facade dropped every time Lady Katsa caught Po's eyes, the perfect distraction from her conversations. She thought him bold compared to the other people in the dining hall, and worse still was the fact that he could hold his eyes with hers. After a couple of glances, Lady Katsa disappeared from his mind and turned back to the man beside her. It was like that for a while. Po took a bite of the wild boar and vegetables on his plate before he felt Lady Katsa's eyes on him again. He caught them, and Lady Katsa was ensnared once more, but this time Po sensed hesitation coming from her: she dreaded the inevitable conversation she needed to have with him.
Lady Katsa was making this easier for Po, even if she did not think of Grandfather Tealiff to Po. She knew why he'd come to Randa City, and she knew she needed to talk to him. Po swirled his wine as he considered her.
The moment was over when King Randa called Lady Katsa's name. She arched her back as tall as the columns of Po's childhood home at the sound of her name, then recoiled and tried to make herself small as Randa's laughter followed, echoing off the walls. It was typical Royal Continent behavior of a king, but Po felt it shake Lady Katsa to her core. With her ferocity, he hadn't thought a person like the king could unsettle her. Was she so afraid of him?
And then Lady Katsa knew Po was watching. She blushed, looking like she would rather have been anywhere else but here. The men at her side leaned to her and said something, but Po felt her restless energy and knew she would leave the hall. She stood, and Po followed suit. The king stopped laughing when she did, and the people at the tables seemed to freeze and stand after her. She was all-too-aware of Po's eyes, which felt like fire burning through her.
One of her companions put a hand on her arm, and Lady Katsa recomposed herself. "Forgive me, Lord King," she breathed. It was all lies, and she spoke infinitely more calmly than she felt. "It's nothing. Please, sit down. Please," she insisted.
The people in the room blew a sigh of relief and sat down, and Po did the same, for he was Prince Greening Grandemalion here and he had no way of knowing why a strange Lady Katsa was acting out in the dining hall. Lady Katsa's heart beat as if she were sprinting when the king's laughter filled the hall again. She shared a few short words with the men beside her, her face all but crying out for help, and rushed for the exit, careful not to catch Po's eyes. When she closed the doors behind her, Po felt her spring into action. She whirled away as fast as she'd moved in Murgon's courtyard.
As much as Po wanted to, he could not follow her. Not when he would attract more attention. He set his glass down and played the part of Prince Greening Grandemalion for the rest of dinner.
Night had fallen, but Po had no trouble sensing where Lady Katsa was from her wild energy. He found her hard at work at the archery range. Her heels were off, and she was livid, her mind buzzing like a bee in King Ror's palace gardens. She gripped a bow like it was her lifeline and shot arrow after arrow at the targets, hitting the right places every time. Po didn't know whether it was a mercy or not that no thoughts of hers entered his mind.
She was fast, the arrow still flying in the air when she had another one notched. She was faster than anyone Po had encountered in Lienid. Faster still than Po, even with his Grace. Po leaned against the doorway as he watched her, and he knew she heard him when the wood groaned under him. She paused, her focus dissipating, knowing that it was him who watched her. She covered it up by slowing her pace and taking her time with each arrow now that she knew he was watching, watching her barefoot and her hair messy, with those all-seeing eyes of his. She turned her thoughts to Po, how he would have gone barefoot too if his feet hurt, or how he would not have kept pins in his hair if his scalp were screaming, or maybe he would have, since he wore his Lienid jewelry...
The Lienid people were thought strange to the Royal Continent, and Lady Katsa of the Middluns was no exception. He cleared his throat, deciding to change the subject. He said what any person would have said if they weren't Graced with perception: "Can you kill with an arrow? Or do you only ever wound?"
Lady Katsa's head filled with images of Po in Murgon's courtyard. She responded by notching two arrows and letting them go. One hit the target's head. The other went through the chest.
Po had not met anyone so accurate in both archery and hand fighting. It made sense, considering her Grace. "I'll never make the mistake of challenging you to an archery match," he admitted.
Lady Katsa was not satisfied. She steeled her jaw, offended, and grabbed another arrow. "You didn't forfeit our last match so easily," she said.
The words were as smooth as Lady Katsa's silk dress, practiced since Po was five years old. "Ah, but that's because I have your fighting skill. I lack your skill with a bow and arrow."
This piqued Lady Katsa's interest. She lowered her bow and turned to him. "Is that true?"
"My Grace gives me skill at hand-to-hand combat or sword-to-sword. It does little for my archery." It was a cruel secret Po kept, but such was the price of his Grace. Sensing Lady Katsa's energy calming, Po crossed his arms. He slunk a bit deeper into the room and leaned against a stone table.
Lady Katsa couldn't see him well in the night. From what she saw, she thought he looked lazy, like he would fall asleep at any moment… but she was still defensive. She knew he would move quick enough if she tried anything at him. "Then, you need to be able to grapple with your opponent, to have an advantage," she reasoned.
Po nodded. "I may be quicker to dodge arrows than someone Ungraced. But in my own attack, my skill is only as good as my aim." These words were easier to say, because they were true. They were the right words to be said, too, because Lady Katsa lowered her guard and grew more thoughtful. This side of her was good. Po needed that side if he were to ask her about his grandfather. "Can you throw a knife as well as you shoot an arrow?" he asked.
"Yes," Lady Katsa replied immediately.
Po laughed. He didn't know why he bothered asking. She was the Lady Killer, after all. "You're unbeatable, Lady Katsa."
Lady Katsa considered him, then went to gather the arrows she'd shot. She knew why he had come, and she had what he sought… but she would not tell him. He was not trustworthy to her. Po watched her collect her arrows, and Lady Katsa felt his eyes burning into her back. She put out the torches in an attempt to disappear from him. When the last torch dimmed, calmness enveloped her, but Po sensed her movements as clear as if it were day.
Po caught her glance as she snuck a peek at him in the darkness. She knew he couldn't have seen her when it was so dark, but his eyes were so direct that she found herself looking away. She made her way to the front of the archery range, the light illuminating her, and Po knew that she knew that he could see her. As she looked into his eyes again, Po gave her a small smile.
It seemed to do the trick. Lady Katsa flickered with curiosity. "Does your Grace give you night vision?"
"Hardly," Po said but could not hide another laugh. This he did not expect from Lady Katsa, but she was proving him wrong ever since she'd arrived at the castle. "Why do you ask?"
Lady Katsa didn't answer. She stared a moment longer into his eyes, her cheeks growing red, and then feeling irritated that he could meet her eyes again. They disturbed her just by looking at her, and she would not allow it. "I'm going to return to my rooms now," she said.
Po straightened. He knew she intended to leave sooner rather than later. "Lady, I have questions for you," he insisted. It was not the best time given her defensiveness, but he had no choice given that he couldn't lose her just yet.
She took off her quiver and put it down with the bow. Her sense of urgency dampened. "Go on."
Thank Lienid, Po thought. He leaned back against the doorway. "What did you steal from King Murgon, Lady, four nights past?"
"Nothing that King Murgon had not himself stolen," she replied coolly.
"Ah." On the outside, she was good at interrogations, but Po knew otherwise with the help of his Grace. "Stolen from you?"
"Yes, from me... or from a friend."
"Really?" Po crossed his arms. Her words were lies, but Po would help her save face. "I wonder if this friend would be surprised to hear himself so called?"
"Why should he be surprised? Why should he think himself an enemy?"
"Ah," Po said again. He thought back to his theories from before. "But it's just that. I thought the Middluns had neither friends nor enemies. I thought King Randa never got involved."
"I suppose you're wrong."
Po wanted to laugh at the irony. "No. I'm not wrong." His talk with King Randa yesterday had proved as much. As he stared at her, Lady Katsa was glad for the darkness that kept his strange eyes dim. Po pretended not to notice. "Do you know why I'm here, Lady?"
Images of Po earlier today in the courtyard appeared in Lady Katsa's mind. "I was told you're the son of the Lienid king," she recounted. "I was told you seek your grandfather, who's disappeared. Why you've come to Randa's court, I couldn't say. I doubt Randa is your kidnapper."
It didn't take someone Graced to know she was lying again. Despite this, Lady Katsa had no intention of confirming Po's words. And she didn't have to, because she had already confirmed it for him a long time ago. But Po wanted to make her think about it again. She must have known more about his grandfather. "King Murgon was quite certain I was involved in the robbery. He seemed quite sure I knew what object had been stolen."
"And that's natural. The guards had seen a fighter, and you're no other than a fighter."
"No. Murgon didn't believe I was involved because I was Graced. He believed I was involved because I'm Lienid." Coincidentally, Lady Katsa had thought the same thing back in Murgon's courtyard. Po tilted his head as he studied her, waiting for the thoughts to come. "Can you explain that?" he finished.
It was as if she were protecting her thoughts from him. "I see you close your shirt for state dinners," she said instead.
That was the last thing on his mind. Po looked down at his shirt and laughed. "I didn't know you were so interested in my shirt, Lady." And this was true enough, for his Grace had not sensed her.
Lady Katsa blushed as red as the tomatoes grown back home in Lienid. Her body began to buzz with that familiar restlessness. "I'm going to my rooms now," she declared. Just as she moved to leave, Po blocked her path.
She played the long game, but Po was no fool. "You have my grandfather," he said matter-of-factly.
"I'm going to my rooms," she repeated, and then tried to step around him. Growing up, Po was taught never to raise a hand at a woman, but he doubted it would scare the Lady Killer of all people. "I'm going to my rooms, and if I must knock you over to do so, I will," she warned.
"I won't allow you to go until you tell me where my grandfather is," Po decided. Her words were harsh, but Po knew what to expect from the Lady Killer this time around.
Po stood unwavering when Lady Katsa tried to move a third time. She replied with a feigned punch, relieved they were communicating in a way that she could finally understand. Po ducked easily under her swing, then dodged her kick to his stomach. Using the momentum, he came back with a fist to her stomach. Surprisingly, Lady Katsa stood still and took it to test his power, then regretted it because it knocked the wind from her. Po felt the challenge that rose in her and the satisfaction with which she seized it.
Lady Katsa jumped back up with a kick to the chest that Po couldn't block in time. Po fell, and Lady Katsa slammed on top of him. She went for his face a couple times, then kneed him in the side. Just as she grabbed his hands with the intention to immobilize him, Po flipped her onto her back. He pinned her down, but Lady Katsa put all her energy into her legs and managed to heave him away. When Po turned back to Lady Katsa, she was already on her feet, watching him.
She was like a wildcat, even as Po could anticipate her attacks before she made them. She left little time in between her attacks, leaving only enough for Po to defend himself. She was evasive in her words, but the fight was something else entirely. It awakened her, leaving her sharp and focused. For the first time in his life, Po laughed at his odds, because despite knowing her every move before she made it, he was at a loss of how to beat her. He was stronger than her, but she was faster. He could see her next moves a couple seconds or so into the future, but what use was strength when he couldn't land a hit on her exactly like he'd wanted?
They grappled like this for a while, though no one could gain the upperhand. Po sensed Lady Katsa grow more creative in her attacks, wondering if she could punch him like this or if she could kick him like that. It became more like a game, and Po found himself using his Grace to his advantage more than he had in any other one of his fights, experimenting with how he could move around her and land in his own attacks. Po hadn't gotten to see this side of her fighting in Murgon's courtyard. The more they fought, the more Lady Katsa warmed up to him. And when he secured her arms behind her back, grabbed her hair, and shoved her face to the ground, she spit dirt from her mouth and laughed.
"Surrender," Po said.
"Never." She wormed her arms free, kicked, and went to elbow his face. When Po sidestepped, Lady Katsa cannoned into him so the two fell again. This time, she succeeded in immobilizing his arms behind him, dug a knee into his back, and then shoved his face to the dirt. "You surrender," she breathed, "for you're beaten."
"I'm not beaten, and you know it." She was impossibly fast, but Po did not give up so easily. "You'll have to break my arms and legs to beat me."
"And I will, if you don't surrender."
"Katsa!" Po laughed, and she joined him, because no matter how threatening she was, this Lady Killer meant it as nothing more than a joke. When Po caught his breath, he finally assented. "Lady Katsa. I'll surrender on one condition."
"And the condition?"
Po took a breath. He turned his head as best as he could to look into her blue and green eyes, shining through the dark. "Please, please, tell me what's happened to my grandfather."
Her hold on him did not budge, but she considered what he said, wondering about how much Po's grandfather meant to him for him to have asked.
"Katsa," Po mumbled into the dirt. He couldn't beat her, but he did have a chance at communicating with her. His Grace was particularly good at that. He settled on what Katsa knew about him, what she had heard from him directly. This was the way any normal person would have built an introduction on, and this was the way that Po would have to follow. "I beg you to trust me, as I've trusted you."
She hesitated. He's right. Then, slowly, she let go and moved to sit next to him. A picture of Po lying in Murgon's courtyard flashed in her mind curiously. "Why do you trust me when I left you lying on the floor of Murgon's courtyard?" she asked.
Now that the adrenaline was leaving him, Po's body ached for the first time in years. He rolled onto his back and sat up with a groan. His shoulder protested, then his face. One of his eyes was blackening. Po considered her words. "Because I woke up. You could have killed me, but you didn't," he replied. He turned to look at her and immediately regretted the sorry state she was in: her striking green dress was muddy and torn, and her face was bruised from when he'd shoved it to the ground. Her face, so mesmerizing in the night, was going to be scarred tomorrow. "Your face is bleeding," he said softly. He reached out to wipe her face, but the moment had passed. True to her nature, she waved his hand away and got to her feet.
"It doesn't matter," she muttered. Her pain did not bother her nearly as much as Po sensed it in her body, but her restlessness returned. "Come with me, Prince Greening."
Po did not like the way his name sounded on her lips. It was foreign and cold how it was said in that flat Royal Continent accent. He could act as the formal Prince Greening with anyone else on the Royal Continent, but he could not act as Prince Greening with Lady Katsa. Not anymore. "It's Po," he said as he got up.
"Po?"
"My name. It's Po."
As Katsa studied him, a mirror image of him appeared in her mind, the way that he groaned and his exhaustion in the way he slouched. His golden eye was black and swollen. His clothes were not spared from the dirt, and his shirt was torn. Luckily, Po blew a sigh of relief. His shirt was still capable of covering his Lienid markings.
Anybody else would have apologized or offered their sympathies to Po. Katsa only smiled. "Come with me, Po," she offered, and Po felt her guard drop entirely. "I'll take you to your grandfather."
If she were Lienid, Po would have kissed her forehead in thanks.
