I ALWAYS LOOKED UP to my brother.
He was someone I trusted, someone I could put my hope in.
But, growing up, I had a friend, a best friend, and he had dedicated himself to me, and I dedicated myself to him.
I would give my life for his, and there's never a doubt in my heart that he would do the same.
My brother was hard to grow up with, and even now as a man, he is hard to get along with.
The friend…
He would tell me things, things I didn't believe.
But now, looking back…
I'm starting to believe.
AHIRU STUMBLED INTO THE breakfast nook, a little late, teetering on the edges of her gown, tripping over her tongue explaining why she was late.
Four pairs of eyes watched her.
She cleared her throat, and took her spot next to Rue, where she sat every morning, although they never spoke. Rue rarely opened her mouth, and when she did, it was only when she was spoken to.
There was a thunderous clap and it made Ahiru jump.
She looked to the door and there stood Drosselmeyer, grinning and rubbing his hands together, he strode in with his chin held high.
"Today is the day! The start of your Prüfung, Your Majesty! And art thou ready to perform?"
Autor sighed, "Yes, I am."
Ahiru was starting to wonder if learning how to walk like a Princess was really worth all the time it took when she could have been learning about what was going on in this castle.
She'd find Fakir and he would explain it to her.
She looked over to Mytho, and then to Rue, both with very different looks on their faces.
Mytho, as princely as he was, was not an actor, he tried to smile, but his smile was too wide, his eyebrows furrowed together and while he tried to look supportive, the doubt on his features was far too clear.
Rue, on the other hand, never lifted her eyes from her food, but Ahiru, being her neighbor at the breakfast table, was close enough to see her features, the corner of her lip curled in undisguised disgust.
Disgust for who? Ahiru wondered.
"Now, this is what you have been studying your whole life for! You will not fail."
Ahiru shuffled nervously in her seat, it felt like all this pomp and circumstance was just a cover, a way to push off Autor and Rue's wedding.
Just run the Kӧnigsspiel and be done with it. She thought.
Abruptly, breakfast ended by the knock of a Bookman.
Strange men, Ahiru thought, like a council of sorts, or an order of monks, all they did was run around in brown cloaks, obeying any order Drosselmeyer gave them, watching, always watching. They gave her the creeps.
"Master Drosselmeyer, it is ready."
"Excellent! Uh, have someone-" He made a lazy circle with his finger. "Clean this up." the Queen stood with him, following him like a ghost.
Autor and Mytho stood and came behind the backs of Rue and Ahiru's chairs, pulling them from the table before offering their hands, as they did at the end of every breakfast.
Ahiru laid her hand lightly on Mytho's arm, and she didn't miss Rue's backwards glance.
As soon as they stepped out of the breakfast nook, Ahiru could hear the crowds.
"All the nobles of every house have been invited." Mytho whispered to her. "It is custom that they watch and sign off in agreement."
"Agreement to what?"
"Agreement that they want Autor to be king, that they won't start a rebellion, that they will remain loyal."
Ahiru nodded. "So, is that the purpose of all this? So that the Nobles won't uprise?"
"Hmm? Oh, hardly, it's all show most days, but the Prüfung is important nonetheless." Mytho's easy going smile faded, and he turned serious, it almost frightened her. "It shows what kind of a King he will be."
She was lead to the ballroom, used twice previously for dancing, now it almost looked like a theatre.
Sunshine drowned the room in light and it wasn't until now that Ahiru saw that the room was made of brilliant, white marble; amazing what the sun did, shining down on everything and showing the truth of it all.
A balcony wrapped around the walls, creating a second story, like a ring. In the ring, she could see many faces that she knew, commoners, she saw the farmer's daughters, they sat with their legs sticking through the railing, she saw the young man that had broken his leg and surrounding him was his mother and what must have been four siblings. All sisters.
Ahiru looked around for Fakir, and she would have missed him had she not been heading for the seats that were right below him. He stood between windows, swathed in shadow.
She smiled, but focused her attention back to the floor she was on.
She had never been to any theater, the only thing that came close was the amphitheater in Arnis, only used twice a year, the two days that it didn't rain.
It looked like that, seats in rows, but raised slightly after the other, it was pressed against the wall, and it didn't curve like she supposed was normal, it looked much more like a box. It was cut into six sections, marked by the various colors that represented the five house and the royal family, she recognized Berinhard, who stood next to a short woman who seemed to be chastising him, but he smirked and shook it off.
She looked around at the other nobles from the other houses and almost broke her neck when her eyes darted across a man only for her to throw her head to get a good look at the man.
He stood, conversing with an old man who leaned heavily on his wooden cane, and for a moment she thought it was Autor, but the grey in his hair, and the wrinkles at his brow told her that this could not possibly be Autor. He wore a dark blue, with silver threaded throughout, and he noticed her staring. She looked down with a blush.
Ahiru lifted her skirt as she was led up to the top row, the center, lifted above all the other sections by a few feet, where sat three thrones and two additional seats made from velvet.
The Queen sat on her throne, her hands resting on each side of her, she sat back-breakingly straight, and if Ahiru looked for long enough, she could see the Queen blink.
Drosselmeyer sat to her right, Mytho to her left and Rue and Ahiru were left to the extra chairs, and, given that Rue had a higher ranking, she sat closest to the Queen, living Ahiru to teeter on the edge.
Autor, however, stood in the center of the room, by himself, standing like he was ready to fight the storm.
Five Bookmen walked in, and as soon as they did, a hush fell over the nobles and commoners.
It was starting.
One unrolled a scroll, and cleared his throat. "The Prüfung begins!"
Ahiru raised her hands to clap them together, but was instead met by silence, everyone in the room oddly silent.
She pressed her hands to her thighs and suppressed a bad blush.
"Intelligence!" A second bookman bellowed. "The Test of Intelligence will now begin!"
The third and fourth carried a table to Autor, the fifth a chair.
The second set a stack of books and scrolls on the desk and Autor took his seat.
"A great and terrible storm has caused great damage to the kingdom!" The first read from his scroll, "It lasts for seven days! And seven nights. The kingdom takes shelter, but when the people emerge, they see what has happened! Their crops have been ripped from the ground! Barns have burned down, and any surplus has disappeared!
"Autor, Crown Prince of Bavaria, what do you do?" With a flourish, he closed his scroll and offered a low bow, the other four offered the same. The first stayed by the door, and the others took position in the four corners of the room, and whenever they grew tired, they would turn in a circle, switching spots, but they never took their eyes away from Autor.
"What is left?" Autor asked. His voice even and steady. He wasn't nervous, and Ahiru didn't understand how he could be, just watching made her heart pound.
"Only food that has been stored in individual kitchens. Most livestock have perished."
"Besides that."
"Why, whatever do you mean?"
"Obviously, we are a trading kingdom, we deal with more than just farming."
It was too easy, even Ahiru could see that. She looked over at those around her, did they see it too? Did they catch on?
It was like he had the answers already.
The Bookman smiled, even the shadows of his hood couldn't hide it. "Most of our trade is not stored outside, so it is all safe."
"It is simple then." Autor took hold of one of the books, and flipped it open. "We can use goods to buy any food we need until the farmers can clean up their fields and start a new crop."
"And, what of the farmers?"
"What of them?"
"While the artisans and merchants will do well, the farmers will have to wait at least another year before they can turn a profit."
Autor didn't have to consider it for long, "That's what taxes are for, they shall be compensated for their loses and until they can make a proper living on their on, they will be provided for by the Crown."
"Very good, My Prince." The Bookmen bowed, and the four others with him.
The nobles bowed their heads and knees, and Ahiru looked to Rue and Mytho to see their responses, but then the Queen caught her eye.
Surely, a mother would be proud of her son for passing the first test, surely there would be an ounce of happiness in her eye, an upturn of the corner of her lip, but there was nothing, nothing but the glassy eyed expression that never changed.
They all rose and left, Ahiru rose a second late, but before Mytho came to offer her his arm, she was already off, determined to get to the ring and find Fakir.
She was tired of being lost.
Ahiru came to the stairs and waited as the commoners left, they smiled excitedly and talked about it.
"I wish a storm would come, we'd make more money being compensated by the Crown than what we make now!"
"I think he'll make a great king, don't you? No? Do tell me why."
"He'll make a handsome king!" A young girl said.
Ahiru stuck out her tongue in disgust but lifted up her skirts, there was finally an opening.
She raced up the steps, hoping he hadn't already left and was relieved to find him in the same shadowy spot he had been in before.
"Hey, Fakir!" She called, waving at him.
He didn't provide her with a smile the way she did, but she could see his lip twitching, and she knew he was repressing one.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"What was that?"
Fakir gave her a strange look. "You really didn't study up on Bavaria, did you? The Kingdom that you will someday be the Princess of?"
She grinned and shrugged. "I was busy."
"Right."
She leaned against the window sill, her back being warmed by the sun. "So, what is this Prüfung?"
"It's the first of five tests." Fakir said. "It will last until the end of the week, and if he succeeds, he'll be crowned King."
"Wow, really? What about the Queen, doesn't she have to- you know? I mean-"
"Not here. She has only been Queen by herself for so long because Autor wasn't old enough to take the crown."
"But now he is."
Fakir nodded.
"Why can't she remarry?"
"She did." Fakir looked down at the floor. "That's why Mytho and Autor look nothing alike, they both take after their fathers."
"Oh, so then, what happened to him?"
There was a dark look that came onto Fakir's face. "No one knows. He was in perfect health one day, and the next the Queen woke up with a dead man next to her."
A chill went down Ahiru's spine and she shivered. "That's scary!"
"It could have been worse. He could have lived."
Ahiru furrowed her eyebrows together, "What do you mean-?"
"Ahiru!"
Ahiru gasped, she walked over to the railing and looked over. "I'm sorry, Miss. Edel, I'll be right there!"
She looked at Fakir, who now stood next to her. "Sorry, I have lessons, tomorrow, there'll be another one of these things?"
Fakir nodded. "Yes, tomorrow is Strategy."
"And you'll be there?"
"I plan on attending all five."
Ahiru couldn't help herself as she smiled. "Good. I'll see you tomorrow?"
He rolled his eyes, "Let me walk you downstairs, then you can say goodbye."
"Oh! Of course!"
He held out his arm and she took it.
"So, Saturday, if all goes well, Autor and Rue will get married, and then, next Saturday…"
"It will be your turn."
"You only spend a month with someone, and that's enough time to know if your compatible? You hardly know someone after a month."
"Hey, don't worry about it."
"I can't! It's my life!" She looked up at him, pleadingly.
"From what I know of Mytho, and what I have seen in you, you'll be happy."
She paused at the bottom of the staircase, taking her eyes off her feet, she looked up at him.
"You really think so?"
"You're like him, kind and sweet, he won't hurt you."
"I thought you were worried about me hurting him."
She took a moment to study his eyes, they didn't match the rest of him, his skin was tanned, his hair was dark like the sea at midnight, and even his personality wasn't sunshine and fields of daisies. But, the irises of his eyes were a pale green-like sage.
Once, she sat on the beach in Arnis, the sky was clear of any clouds, and she felt warm under the sun, even as chilly wind blew against her cheeks, but she remembered watching the waves rise and fall, the way the sunlight caught the wave, turning it into the color of seaglass, so light compared to the deep, dark blue of the ocean.
His eyes made her think of the sea rising.
"Princess."
Ahiru jumped, her attentions planted on Miss Edel, who now stood in front of her on the staircase, looking more than smug.
"Sorry!" Ahiru lifted her skirt and let go of Fakir's arm, taking Edel's instead.
"WHICH FORK DO YOU use for the third course?"
Ahiru looked out the window, birds flew in the air, puffs of clouds floated lazily across the expanse of the sky, it hadn't been a long time since she had seen the ocean, but now she missed it. She missed swimming out as far as she could before she made her father worry, she missed the sea breeze as she waited for him on the docks, she missed the shells, and the pebbles; she missed it all.
"Ahiru." Edel slammed her book shut.
"Yes!" Ahiru jolted in her seat.
"My dear, I'm afraid you aren't paying attention."
"I'm sorry, Miss. Edel." ahiru paused and looked down at her fiddling hands. "I miss the ocean."
"Ah, a staple of Arnis, we are too far inland to have a proper ocean, but we do have a lake."
"A lake?"
Edel nodded. "Unfortunately, it's in the middle of the forest, and no one dares enter the forest."
"Except for the Königsspiel."
"Yes, except, of course, for that."
Ahiru sighed. "Miss Edel, I know I need to know how to be a Princess, but shouldn't I know a little bit of history about Bavaria?"
"In due time." Miss. Edel placed her book on Ahiru's head. "Now, let's practice your walk."
AHIRU'S BREAKFAST WAS INTERRUPTED once again by the arrival of the Bookmen.
She was lead away and back to the ballroom, and sat in the same chair as she had done yesterday.
She noticed that the balcony was less full today, but Fakir was still there.
"Strategy!"
And, it began.
Ahiru heaved a great sigh, already bored. So, it would be the same as yesterday, than.
FAKIR STOOD MUCH IN the same place as he had done yesterday, it was perhaps the perfect vantage point.
He knew Drosselmeyer wouldn't see him, the old fool refused to believe that his age was catching up with him, in the shadows and far away, Fakir knew he wouldn't be spotted.
Most of the commoners crowded the railings, trying to peer down at it all, but as they grew tired of standing, they would sit, or take up a space on the wall and lean, much like he had done, leaving him a clear view of Autor, and of those walking in.
He heard her, first. Her heels clicking against the tile, the wobbled, unsure steps she took, he saw her unusually bright hair, burning in the sun, and her dress, green today, blue yesterday, was perhaps the most extravagant of all, although maybe he only thought so, not because of the dress itself, but because of the girl who wore it.
He was embarrassed to say that he was only able to take his eyes off her when she disappeared below the ring, out of his sight.
"Strategy!"
Fakir's gaze snapped to the Bookman that read the scroll.
Fakir took a steadying breath, unlike Autor, he hadn't been fed the answers, but he was sure that his were better.
Like yesterday, in his mind, he created a system, all of the farmers, wrecked by the storm, could be given jobs to help clean up the damage of the storm, which included cleaning up the debris, fixing anything that needed to be fixed, and restarting the crops.
He wouldn't just give them money, he would give them jobs, and his kingdom would be restored.
Autor failed to mention how he would restore order, only that he would give them money, like how a master throws scrapes to his dogs.
Fakir felt his teeth grind, his fists clenched, and his blood boil, no, it wasn't time to be angry, not yet.
He would save that anger for the last test.
AHIRU DIDN'T EVEN HEAR what the Bookman said, she was busy trying not to fall asleep, and more importantly, not fall out of her chair.
There was something about a war, about what to do when an enemy attacks, something like that.
It was hard to focus when all she wanted was the half eaten breakfast left on the table.
She started eating the way Rue did, taking her food and cutting off pieces smaller than buttons, and chewing them slowly, it felt like a great waste of time, and she was almost always pulled away from a half finished plate.
She would give anything to eat.
She would give her right eye to eat something.
She would chop off all of her hair.
What could a leg get her? A whole leg had to be worth something.
There was a gentle hand laid over top of hers and she looked over at the pale, slim hand of Rue.
"Sit up straight." She warned. "The Nobles are watching."
Ahiru looked around her, and sure enough, the Nobles' eyes were not on Autor, but on her, slouching in her chair.
She cleared her throat and sat up straight.
"- we have to take into account the cost of war-"
"Oh, no." Ahiru groaned as quietly as she could. It was still boring. "I'll be right back."
"What? No, don't-!" But Rue couldn't stop Ahiru as she stood from her seat and made her way to the staircase.
Only a few Nobles watched her, but she could feel the scorching eyes of the Bookmen burning into her back as she climbed the stairs.
Think they noticed?
She stayed close to the wall once she stepped foot into the ring, walking, for the most part, behind the viewers, and made her way to Fakir.
He whispered under his breath, almost like he was answering the question posed by the Bookmen.
"Hey, do you know what's going on?" She whispered, leaning in close to him so that only he heard.
"Of course I do, were you not paying attention?"
"No, this is boring."
He shook his head, but she saw his smile. "A neighboring kingdom has threatened war, Autor has been going into detail on how to get ready for battle, but it's not the true answer."
"What is, then?"
"Peace, but it's not what Drosselmeyer wants, so it's not the answer the Bookmen want, so it's not the answer Autor will give."
"What do you mean?"
"By what?"
"The Bookmen, aren't they councilors of the Queen?"
Fakir scoffed. "They haven't been loyal to the crown for decades now. No, their loyalty lies with Drosselmeyer, they'd follow him to the ends of the earth, jump off it's edge if he said so. Drosselmeyer wants war, so the Bookmen want war, so war is what Autor will give them."
"And you said that the correct answer is peace."
"Yes. The grievance the kingdom has with us, if you listened is nothing but a misunderstanding. All the king would have to do is go and talk, straighten things out and make sure the blunder doesn't happen again. The strategy to war isn't how to fight it, it's how to end it."
Ahiru looked over the railing, to Autor.
"-every citizen would have to be trained to fight, to protect the kingdom at any cost, and once we've won, no other kingdom will contend with us."
"You would make a great king."
Fakir closed his eyes, and Ahiru looked up at him, wondering what it would take to form an uprising and get him on the throne.
"I hope I will."
"What?"
"Very good, my Prince!" The Bookman bowed, and everyone around her bowed, except Fakir, he stood straight, didn't even push himself off the wall.
But, she wasn't the only one who saw.
AHIRU SAT AT HER desk and heaved a great sigh, she opened her locket and out fell a key into her hand, she used it to open her diary, and with a pen, wrote the days events.
Normally, she wrote about what happened, her conflicting feelings, how she hated lying, and how much she wished she could be back home.
But, there was nothing back at home for her.
No, today she wrote down the questions that flooded her mind.
Did the Bookmen see her standing by Fakir the whole time? Or just when he refused to bow?
What did he mean when he said he hoped he'd make a great King?
Maybe he's going to start the rebellion!
Maybe not… Probably not.
I want to go home, but I can't. If I go home, I'll be all alone, I won't be able to talk to-
"Ahiru?"
"Yes?" Ahiru shut her diary and turned to the door.
Uzura stood in her shift, a candle in one hand, and a stuffed bear in the other.
"Mama is gone, and I had a bad dream, zura. Can I sleep with you, zura?"
Ahiru smiled, she locked her diary and blew out the candles surrounding her desk. "Yes, of course."
Uzura blew out her candle with a big intake of air, she left the candle stick on the bedside table, and threw the covers off before situating herself in bed and throwing them back over herself, and in a moment, she was fast asleep.
Ahiru smiled, she sat on her side of the bed, her knees gently bent, and she leaned over them, questions still flooded her mind, and she knew if she left the bed, it would awaken Uzura, and she'd have to come back anyway.
No, Ahiru laid down, she would have to deal with the endless frenzy of questions that flooded her mind.
Her eyes began to close, she looked out the window and saw the moon, so bright, a mirror in the black sky.
THE NEXT DAY, SHE didn't even go to her seat.
They stepped into the ballroom, and she leaned to Mytho and whispered in his ear, "I'll be right back." before hurrying up stairs.
Fakir didn't look at her, but said. "Good morning."
Her eyes flashed to him, and she grinned. "Good morning. What is it today?"
"So long as the Bookmen keep in order, and they always do, it will be Mediation."
Ahiru furrowed her eyebrows together, try as she might, she couldn't recall what the word meant. "Mediation?"
"It's always something simple, trivial, but it's less about what the problem is."
"What is it then?" She cut him off.
"How he gets them to stop fighting."
"Oh." She gave a firm nod. "But, if anything its collective anger, right?"
"Yes, a feud built up for years, and years, and years. The issue isn't the timber, but the straw."
"Have you had to deal with that before?"
Fakir nodded, much to her surprise. "Yes. Most people do, when they realize the Queen's catatonic and Drosselmeyer is the real man they'll be presenting their problem to."
"But why you? Why not the next ranking noble?"
"It's starting."
"Mediation!" The scroll unraveled.
Ahiru leaned against the windowsill, it wasn't as bright as it had been, in fact, in her time here, this was the first day clouds covered the sky. She felt cold.
Today was different, the Bookmen didn't present the problem, instead two actors came forward.
"That's Garnele and Tilly, two actors from the local theater." Fakir whispered into his ear.
They were both dressed as two farmers, and even carried farming tools, they bowed before Autor and started.
"Your Majesty, this serpent has been robbing me for two fortnights!"
"Isn't that just a month?" Autor asked, the tone of unhidden snark giving his words bite.
"I have been doing no such thing! This bottomfeeder-"
A sharp gasp.
"Has allowed his produce to overgrow onto my property!"
"They're both… girls." Ahiru tilted her head. "Why are they pretending to be men?"
"We didn't have any male actors this season." Fakir explained. "But, for the sake of the skit, they're playing men. Traditionally, a woman cannot present her problems to the King."
"Why not?"
"The man of the household is the one-"
"I know that, but why can't women present their problems?"
Fakir shook his head. "It's just how it works."
"That should change." Ahiru crossed her arms. "What if a girl is on her own? She can't present her problems to the King."
"Mm." He hummed. "I'll make a note of that."
She grinned, "Can you present my problem to the King?"
"I'll get it straightened out."
"Quiet!" Autor bellowed, making Ahiru flinch. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose just under his glasses. "You." He pointed to the woman on the left. "State your grievance."
"Uh-oh." Fakir said.
"Your Majesty, for a month now, my neighbor, who I share a property line with, has been stealing apples from my apple tree. It's vital that those are sold so I can provide for my children, and my poor wife!"
"Of course." Autor drawled lazily. "And you."
"Your Royal Majesty, my neighbor has not pruned his apple tree, it hangs over into my property and doesn't allow my produce to get the proper amount of sun it needs. I have simply taken the liberty of collecting the apples as reimbursement for impeding my farming."
Autor smirked, "It's simple, just-"
"Don't get me started on your petunias!" The one on the left shouted. "You don't grow them for sale! But I grow my apple tree to provide for my family! Tell me, Your Grace, what is more important? My wares, or his enjoyment of nature!"
"Well, I-"
"What matters is that that branch is on my property! Therefore, it is mine to do with as I please!"
"If you walked onto my property, would you be mine to do whatever I pleased with!"
"No! But I certainly don't block your apples from getting the proper amount of sun whenever I'm on your land!"
"You wish you could block the sun from my apples!"
"Yes! Because then they'd perish and my petunia's would have a chance!"
"ENOUGH!"
"He blew it." Fakir shook his head, but something grabbed his hand, and when he looked down, he saw how pale Ahiru grew, her eyes wide in fear, her chest heaving as her breath quickened. He looked down at his hand, and allowed his fingers to intertwine with hers. "It's okay."
Ahiru blinked tears from her eyes, Fakir spoke softly to her, and it broke her out of her panic. Her gaze traveled down her arm to their joined hands.
She let go.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be." Already, his attention was back on the Prüfung. "He let his temper get the better of him."
Ahiru swallowed, she nodded in agreement. "So, did he fail?"
Ahiru watched with deaf ears as Autor wagged his finger at the two actors.
"This test, yes, but the Prüfung? It will depend on the next two tests. Morale, and Strength."
She flinched when Autor grew to be too loud.
"How much longer?"
Fakir shook his head. "I don't know, it depends on when he'll wear himself out."
She wrapped her arms around herself, "I feel bad for Rue."
"Why?"
"In three days, she'll have to marry that."
WORD SPREAD QUICKLY AROUND the palace about Autor's failed test.
"How will he handle the Königsspiel? The fae don't deal well with a bad temper."
"The fae aren't real. He'll do fine when it comes down to him and a bear."
"We'll see if he can pass Strength, he never did well in his swordsmanship classes."
"What would you know about his swordsmanship classes?"
"I have ears everywhere!"
"You're a gossip, that's what you are."
As their voices faded, a woman stepped out of the shadow, having listened to their conversation, she smiled to herself.
No matter what Drosselmeyer did, he couldn't change what was to be true. He couldn't change fate, no, it didn't matter what he had done, or what he would struggle to do in the future, it was all set.
And, in a little over two months, the true King would be on the throne.
"Ooh, Miss. Edel!" Ahiru called out.
The woman smiled, and waved to her young charge. "Good afternoon, Ahiru."
"How are you today?"
"Well." Edel smiled. "The sun rules the sky, and the moon reflects the sun's glorious rays. But be warned, with the wind comes the storm, and the clouds block the sun, killing her with efficiency."
"That's pretty, Miss. Edel, is that a poem?"
Edel smiled, "Perhaps it could be. But, it is for you, Ahiru, and for you only."
Ahiru beamed. "Wow, thank you!"
"Run along now, there are no lessons today."
"Are you sure?"
"There is very little left for me to teach you."
Ahiru hugged her, one of the benefits of the girl being just a girl, she didn't have restraints.
AHIRU CHOSE TO SIT on the floor, Lottie sat in front of her and Ahiru braided her hair.
Fakir, also, sat with his back against the wall, and from time to time, would whisper altercations into her ear.
"He's trying to torture the prisoner for information. I'm not sure where his head went. There's no way he was taught this, no Noble will sign for him."
"Won't they? I thought it was all show?"
"Yes, but that doesn't mean they don't have a choice. He's fed all the answers, he's been raised to know how to answer these questions, but he's failing."
Ahiru shrugged, Lottie had nice hair, it was soft and shiny, much more the hair of a Princess than a farmer's daughter. Ahiru plucked a flower from Lottie's basket and made sure it was woven in.
"Maybe he's doing it on purpose."
Fakir quirked an eyebrow. "How so?"
"Well, maybe he thinks he needs to outsmart the questions. Come up with an answer that's his."
"He wouldn't- that's stupid! He wouldn't risk it like that." Fakir sucked his teeth, Autor wouldn't be so stupid would he?
No, not stupid.
Cocky.
"Oh, God. He is trying to outsmart the question."
He was sure Drosselmeyer wouldn't like that.
And he didn't.
For the past two days straight, Drosselmeyer sat rigidly in his chair, his fingernails carving deeper into the wood each day. He thought he raised that boy better! Running ink filled his mind, but no, not yet, there was still time to fix this. He had time to straighten up.
"What would you do?" Ahiru asked, leaning closer to Fakir.
"Let him go."
"Really? Aren't you supposed to keep war prisoners?"
"You can, but I never understood it. You're already at war. No man who fights is a man that's free."
Ahiru smiled, she couldn't stop the thought from coming again, Fakir would make a great King.
"So then, if the Nobles don't sign, what happens?"
"The Bookmen will meet to discuss, and of course, he still has the Kӧnigsspiel to run. For most, a win is enough. Some Nobles won't even sign until the Kӧnigsspiel is ran and won."
"What happens if he loses that too?"
Fakir took a deep breath, he eyes trained on Autor, he watched as Autor went on and on about ways to get the prisoner to talk, about how this could be the way to win the war. "If he loses, it means he died in the forest."
Ahiru stopped her hands, and looked at Fakir. "Really?"
He nodded.
"So, this is serious."
"It is."
"What's in the forest?"
"No one knows for sure. Only Kings have gone deep into the forest, and Kings never speak of the horrors that awaited them."
Ahiru took a deep breath, she felt concerned for Autor, as much as she disliked him, it didn't mean she wanted him to die!
"Would you protect him?"
"What?"
"Like you did at the Bauersspiel? You watched, and made sure that if there was any problems, you would help them."
"Yes, I will be there."
Ahiru smiled. "There, all done." She tied a strap of leather around the tail of the braid.
Lottie stood and ran away, leaving her basket beside Ahiru.
"He's a fool."
Ahiru looked back, Fakir had returned to watching Autor, or perhaps it was just listening, since their seated positions didn't allow them to see the bottom floor.
"He wants to use the prisoner as blackmail." Fakir rolled his eyes. "C'mon, we should return that basket to Lottie."
He stood and offered her his hand.
Ahiru smiled, she picked up the basket in one hand, and placed the other in Fakir's. He pulled her up easily, and soon they were walking away.
"Take off your shoes."
"Hmm?"
"Your heels. They're too loud."
"Oh!" Ahiru bent over and lifted one foot, to grab the back of one heel and peel it off her foot, but the action didn't give her much balance, and she started to fall.
And she would have, if Fakir didn't take her arm and hold her in place. "Thank you."
She switched legs, and dropped both shoes into Lottie's basket, Fakir kept his hold on her, and they tiptoed away, but not to the stairs.
"Where are we going?"
"This way, they won't see us leave."
Fakir took her the long way around the ring until they reached the grand staircase, the place she had entered with Mytho on the night of the first ball, before they left the room through a servants entrance.
"Oh, wait, let me put my shoes back on."
Fakir paused, and she dropped the shoes onto the floor, flipping them over with her toes before stepping back into them.
"Thank you." She smiled at him as she used his arm for balance once more.
"It's nothing. C'mon, we should go."
They made their way out of the palace, and as they did, they passed Edel again.
She bowed to both of them. "And where are you two going?"
"Lottie left her basket." Ahiru smiled sweetly as she held the basket aloft.
"A noble quest." Edel gave Ahiru a gentle smile before turning her gaze to Fakir. "I don't think we've had the pleasure of meeting. My name is Edel, I am a governess of Ahiru's."
Fakir nodded, and he gave her his name.
"An odd name, for a black smith's son."
He furrowed his brows. "How did you-?"
"I saw the competition at the fair. It was quite a sword, you have deft hands, a gift. Gentle hands that guide instead of push, care instead of force, love instead of hate."
"Um, thank you."
Ahiru leaned over to his ear. "She talks like that all the time, it's okay, you get used to it."
"Well, I shall not impede your quest." She stepped aside and with a broad stroke of her arm, let them walk past her.
"She's a strange woman." Fakir said, after they had walked away and he was certain Edel wouldn't hear.
"She's the best kind of a woman."
Fakir agreed, and soon they left the palace.
"Aw, it's still cloudy." Ahiru pouted, she held out her hand, expecting rain.
"Are you cold? We can go back and get your cloak."
"No, it's fine. I just miss the sun."
He glared up at the sky, suddenly wishing he had the ability to wipe it clean.
They walked slowly through town, until they reached the Southern wall.
"Her family farm is just outside this gate."
Ahiru nodded. "Good, my feet are starting to hurt."
"Sorry. I suppose we should have gotten different shoes."
Ahiru lifted up her skirt, hissing when she saw the satin shoes covered in mud and grass. "I'll live."
They passed through the gate, just as Lottie was running back.
"Princess! I forgot my basket!"
Ahiru giggled and held it up.
"You brought it! Yay!"
Ahiru handed the basket to Lottie, and watched as she turned on her heel and bounded back home, she couldn't stop her lips from spreading into a grin.
She looked up at Fakir, who was already looking at her, and said. "Let's go back."
They were even slower going back to the palace, taking their time, and resting whenever her feet hurt too much, but soon they were back at the steps of the palace.
She took a few steps, stopping only after she realized that Fakir let go of her, taking her hand off his arm. Ahriu turned back, it was the first time that she had the chance to look down at Fakir, his chin raised to look up at her, instead of the other way around.
"I'll see you tomorrow?"
Fakir gave her a half smile, and nodded, before it faded. "But, don't sit with me."
"What? Why?"
"You'll see. Tomorrow is Strength. That's the point of the jousting."
Then she remembered, the Black Knight, the knight who wasn't a noble, who remained unnamed.
"That was you?"
He nodded once.
"So, what will tomorrow be? Another joust?"
"You'll see. Until then." He bowed at the waist, lower, she thought, than he had ever bowed to anyone.
She didn't know how long she stood there, she watched him walk away, watched until his figure disappeared behind buildings.
Had he ever bowed to her like that before?
"Ahiru!"
Ahiru flinched, she turned to the castle doors.
"There you are." Mytho smiled at her, he traversed down the steps and offered her his hand. "You missed lunch."
"Sorry. I was walking."
"Come along."
Ahiru smiled at him, and took his hand. She was grateful she was marrying him, and not Autor, Autor scared her, her life as his wife would have been long and miserable.
Mytho was someone she could picture marrying, someone she could picture herself being happy with.
AHIRU FELT AWKWARD SITTING in her chair again after spending the last few days up in the ring with Fakir.
"Strength! The final test of the Prüfung!"
Some of the Nobles clapped, but not many, most, Ahiru could see, were tired. They wanted this to be done with.
"As custom, the winning Knight of the Joust is to fight the Crown Prince in a test of strength!"
That's when the whispering started.
The Black Knight, no one knew who he was.
Ahiru sat up straighter, suddenly nervous.
"The Black Knight!" The Bookman made a broad gesture, and the doors at the top of the grand staircase opened.
"It's Fakir."
"The black smith?"
"What is he doing?"
"So he thinks the rumors are true."
Her breath quickened, what rumors? What were they talking about?
The jeers and gossip continued as Fakir made his way down the steps.
He wasn't dressed like a knight, he only wore a pair of pants and a white shirt, no armor, no chainmail.
No sword.
Strength.
They were fighting.
Actually fighting.
Ahiru stood to her feet.
And, so did the rest of the Nobles, keen on getting as close to the fight as possible.
The five Bookmen had placed, in the middle of the ballroom, a ring, made with five fences, that Autor already stood in, and when Fakir came to it's edge, he launched himself inside, and once he did, the Nobles crowded around them.
Ahiru had to push her way through until she was standing beside Fakir.
"Fakir, what are you doing!"
"I told you, we're fighting."
She shook her head. "I didn't think you meant like this!"
He gave her a gentle smile, "Than what did you think?"
"Fencing! Or something!"
"Where we're heavily padded and there's no real danger of either of us getting hurt?"
"Yes!"
"I'm sorry to disappoint you."
"Crown Prince Autor!" The Bookman shouted. "Are you ready?"
Autor handed his glasses to Rue and removed his shirt. "Yes."
Ahiru looked across the ring, beside Autor was his betrothed and his brother. She looked into Mytho's eyes, begging him to stop it all, but he shrugged and shook his head.
There was nothing he could do.
"Fakir, don't."
"I won't get hurt, I promise."
"The Black Knight Fakir! Are you ready?"
"Fakir?"
Fakir's eyes flashed to Ahiru, but he nodded.
Ahiru screwed her eyes shut, and when the first hit landed, she covered her ears.
Everything was loud, the Nobles cheered the two on, and they jostled her, she felt her stomach being bruised by how often she was pushed and hit the fence. She gasped, and opened her eyes when she felt them fly past her.
They weren't equally matched.
Autor had nothing on Fakir, he stumbled back as he was hit again, and Fakir didn't look like he had a scratch on him.
"Kill him, Autor!"
"You're the true king!"
"Don't give up!"
Fakir delivered a swift kick, and Autor fell.
"No." Ahiru said so softly, she wasn't sure herself if she said it.
Autor rolled onto his side, he groaned and spat out blood.
Fakir offered Autor his hand, but Autor slapped it away, choosing to stand on his own, and Fakir wasn't so horrible as to kick him while he was down.
"No." She said again, when Fakir punched Autor's gut as soon as he stood back up. "Wait, stop!"
Fakir's head span around to face her, and it was clear, he enjoyed the fight as much as she did.
"I have to." He mouthed, but as he was distracted, Autor was able to land a solid punch on Fakir's jaw.
"Ha!"
Fakir rubbed his chin, his eyes still locked on Ahiru.
"Stop." She mouthed again.
He nodded, and closed his eyes, and the next punch that came, no matter how weak, sent him to the floor, and he stayed there, his eyes closed.
Knocked out.
The Nobles cheered, and Autor raised his fists in glory.
The Bookmen smiled, they nodded. It was agreed. The test was won.
Ahiru waited for everyone to leave.
Two men came and offered themselves to Autor as crutches, and as he yelled out, all followed, still celebrating his victory.
Once she could, she jumped into the ring, and went to Fakir, but before she could, Mytho knelt before him.
"Are you okay?"
Ahiru came to kneel at his head, and Fakir opened his eyes.
"He got in two punches, weaker than a hummingbird's wing."
"Actually, a hummingbird probably has very strong wings, it has to fly everywhere, and it's wings go so fast."
Fakir glared up at Mytho. "But imagine being punched by one."
Mytho nodded, "Yes, I imagine it wouldn't hurt."
Fakir patted his arm. "Go tend to your brother. Stand with him in his victory."
Mytho stood, only looking back once, but soon Ahiru was alone with Fakir.
"Are you really okay?"
Fakir sat up and wiped his mouth with his arm. "Yeah, I've been beaten up worse before."
"It still looked like a good punch." Ahiru grabbed his chin and turned his head, before poking where he had been hit.
"Ow!"
"Sorry. Should we ice it?"
"With what ice?"
"Oh. Right. Sorry. We normally just have… ice laying around."
He scoffed. "It's too warm for ice, but I'll be okay."
"Was that really necessary?"
"What?"
"The fight! Why did have to be so… barbaric?"
"At least we had our clothes on."
Her face turned red. "What?"
"The Romans. They would wrestle, with olive oil on their bodies, completely naked. But- uh. Ahem." Fakir looked away from her, his face redder than it was before.
"So. Did he win?"
"Technically, the goal is to knock out your opponent."
"But, he didn't."
Fakir nodded. "No one else knows, however."
"Why did you do that? Let him win?"
"If he lost this, he would have failed three of the five tests, and I need to him to run the Kӧnigsspiel." There was a fire in his eyes, a determination, and Ahiru couldn't figure out why.
"Will you challenge him?"
Fakir remained quiet.
"Hey, what did some of the Nobles mean?"
Fakir heaved a great sigh and laid back onto the floor. "Mean by what?"
"They kept saying stuff about the rumors, and for Autor not to worry, that he was the true king."
"An old rumor from years ago that some of the Nobles believed. That some of the townspeople believe."
"What was it?"
"That the Queen tried to kill her son. That she threw him out into the snow and stole a baby to raise as her own. That that baby survived."
Ahiru scrunched her eyebrows together. "That sounds like a Grimm's tale."
He scoffed. "Yeah, it does, doesn't it?"
"Do you believe it?"
"Why would I? I wasn't even a month old when it happened."
Ahiru hummed, she repositioned herself and laid down next to Fakir. "Oh, wow!"
"Hmm? What?"
Ahiru pointed up at the ceiling, she had never looked up, or even thought to, but the ceiling of the ballroom was painted.
Light fluffy clouds, little angels playing harps, the sky, in hues of sunset, seven swans flew through the air, and little stars were just starting to shine, but in the center of it all, was the sun, cradled by the crescent moon.
"I've never seen it before."
The sun was full, a pale gold, dull due to the cloud cover, and the moon was silver, but together they were truly the center of it all. All the angels faced the sun, the swans, with their white wings, encircled the sun and her companion. Even the hanging chandeliers didn't block her.
"It was painted as a gift for the first queen." Fakir spoke. "The first king won the Kӧnigsspiel, and when he and his wife were crowned King and Queen, he scoured the land for an artist with enough talent to capture his love for her. The artist was found not far from here, and she spent a year on it, and even after centuries, it's still a sight to behold."
"It is. Was she the sun?"
"Yes. He hadn't made that request, but the artist herself saw how much the king worshiped his queen, it was obvious that the king only reflected her gloriousness in his ways. He was kinder because of her, happier, a better king. Most say that he would not have won if he didn't have someone to fight for."
Ahiru closed her eyes, she could imagine the sun shining on her face and she smiled, "C'mon, I want to look at your jaw and make sure it doesn't bruise."
She stood, and so did he, she craned her neck to look back up at the sun and the moon, the first King and the first Queen, immortalized forever, overlooking all who stepped under them.
They stepped out of the ballroom, and the world was pandemonium.
Fakir grabbed the arm of a maid that ran by.
"What's going on?"
"The Bookmen are going into mediation!" She answered, wide-eyed, and unable to stay still.
"Mediation? What does that mean?" Ahiru raised an eyebrow. "Fakir?"
"It means they don't think Autor passed."