Okay, so anyone who is familiar with Archive of Our Own, you might wanna read this story there instead. Not because I'm going to stop posting updates on here, but I completely forgot to post a chapter on here that I posted on AO3. This chapter was posted two weeks ago there. I'm so sorry for forgetting guys! Didn't mean to! To make it up to you, I'm also going to post Chapter 9. Also, note that this entire chapter, except for a few lines, is a flashback.

RECAP:
Tori has joined the Bounty Hunters, who have left Aralos (they will be seen next time, don't worry)
Lukas and Emilia have escaped from Nakuuria and are...? (who knows ;D)
Lovino and Feliciano are still on Rela (yeah, nothing has changed since the last recap)
A rescue mission is being launched by the Resistance to save their friend Elizabeta from some pirates, we also met some other resistance fighters, like Kari, Romeo, and their leader, Yao.

WARNINGS: I shan't give any, because I don't want to spoil, but this chapter's not so bad.

Also, the future of this story is dark. I'm not saying I am quitting this at all, it's just that, considering some of the future content, the rating may go up.

Oslaholm, Fynkn
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(13 YEARS AGO)

For all her scrubbing, the spot just wouldn't come out. She had no clue what it was – paint? Tar? Something more sinister? Perhaps Queen Astrid was some sort of a secret assassin, who operated and disposed of the incriminating evidence in her royal chambers. The thought of the gentle but fierce queen committing murder was strange, unless in defence of her children of course, though it certainly helped to drive away some of the monotony of the task. Her mother, who was usually nearby, was working in the kitchens today, so she was without the friendly banter and joking that accompanied her mother's presence.

She sat up, brushing her silvery-white hair from her eyes. She would have to ask Lucaina for bleach to remove the spot, so for now, she hoped neither the queen nor King Oskar was paying too much attention to the floor. She was about to turn her attention to the windows when a voice called out to her.

"Kari! You're needed in the kitchens." She didn't even have to turn to know that it was Helene calling her. That woman's sharp, authoritarian tone never changed, even a little. She rolled her eyes, but complied. Helene shook her head as she judged Kari's handiwork. " You missed a spot!"

"You get it out then, dumhuvud!"

Marte Johannson was almost as bold as her daughter, though she still yanked on Kari's earlobe when Helene told her how Kari had spoken to her.

"You need to have more respect for your betters, girl." She said warningly as Kari rubbed the side of her head. She groaned and reluctantly agreed. As if she didn't have enough to worry about, now her head hurt as well. She was eleven, not three, and she did have respect for her betters. She just didn't consider Helene one of said betters. As punishment, of course, Helene was making her scrub the floor of the dining hall. The woman even had an air of arrogant superiority when doling out punishments. But that wasn't her concern. The dining hall was massive, and Kari had no helpers, since her friends Sofie and Hedda were busy taking stock of the palace's fresh produce today. She cursed Helene under her breath, deciding to just get to it. The later she started, the later she would finish. Moping already, she collected her cleaning supplies and made her way over to the dining hall.

Thank every god in every religion for Helene. If not for that stiff bitch, she would not have known what to fight for.

She had cleaned maybe 10% of the floor when she heard approaching footsteps. Being 11, and impertinent, she answered without looking, expecting that it was her mother or Helene, come to check on her progress so far. She groaned.

"I'm doing it, I'm doing it. Leave me alone." She said the last sentence quieter, but it was still easily audible. She heard the footsteps falter, and then continue approaching her. She huffed, dropped her scrubbing brush into the bucket, turned, and found herself almost at eye-level with the young prince. He blinked.

"Sorry miss, I was hungry."

Kari was only young, but still had a good grasp on mortification. And that was what she was feeling now. A gasp escaped her lips.

"I'm sorry your majesty! I thought you were my mother, or the head maid." The young boy blinked, looking completely baffled. For a six year old, he had a surprisingly intelligent look about him.

"It's okay." He said simply, "I once did that to Mor, she wasn't happy. But I only did it because I thought it was Lia coming to steal my toys again. She shouldn't do it, they're mine, but Mor and Far won't stop her." He pouted. Kari stared at him. He stared back.

"Do you have siblings miss?" he asked, the epitome of politeness. It took her a moment to get over her shock; which was primarily over the fact that the Crown Prince of Fynkn was calling her 'miss', and actually answer.

"No, but I have a cousin called Sindre" she managed. The prince cocked his head slightly.

"Does he steal your toys?"

Kari couldn't help but smile, "Yes, he used to, but he's grown up a little now". She had heard a few stories of the young heirs to the throne, though no-one had mentioned that the prince was so adorable. She felt like mussing up his hair and giving him a big cuddle.

"What's your name miss?" she smiled again.

"Kari Johannson, your majesty." He smiled shyly.

"That's pretty. I'm Lukas."

"Thank you, your majesty, though I think the name Lukas is very pretty too." Kari had been hoping it was an acceptable thing to say, and was rewarded with a small giggle from the prince. His questions continued, and she found herself sitting on the floor with him, talking casually. He really was a sweet kid. And he insisted that he call her 'miss' even though he far outranked her.

And when Helene came to yell at her for not being finished, Kari got to enjoy the look of horror on the head maid's face when the small prince lectured her about how rude it was to yell.

It continued. Somehow, the small prince deemed her worthy.

Sometimes, she would see him at a distance, and he would wave enthusiastically at her. Sometimes he would smile and say hello when she was on serving duty. Sometimes, he would come across her in the halls, or while working, and hug her legs with a loud 'hello miss!'. At one point, he did the latter while walking with his mother, Queen Astrid. The queen just smiled kindly and bid her a good morning, actually having a small conversation with her before moving on, Lukas running to keep up with her. He seemed to enjoy talking to her, and he quickly became like a younger brother to her.

The prince was polite and courteous to everybody, no matter how lowborn. He was surprisingly intelligent for his age, and loved nothing more than reciting interesting facts or explain what he had been learning in his lessons. Marte just shook her head, smiling at the small royal's antics. Helene told Kari that she still had to do her duties, but if the prince were to come along, to pay him mind immediately and entertain him as necessary. Helene seemed shaken from her first encounter with him. To yell in the presence of royalty when you yourself were of far lower birth was disrespectful, even Kari knew that. But she didn't use it to her advantage.

Well, not too much.

The prince was just pleasant to be around, in all honesty. He respected everyone, and insisted on helping Kari if she was having trouble. As time passed, she began to see him less. He needed more lessons, and needed to learn how to actually rule his people. It was disappointing to Kari, but she had expected it. She was five years older than the prince, and a servant. Any nobles would probably see her friendship with the prince as inappropriate, though the King and Queen themselves knew her by name and didn't seem to mind. But she liked to talk to him. As she matured more, it reminded her of her own years as a child, and she knew now that she wanted children in the future. Spending time with the little boy, and the few occasions she had been asked to briefly care for him had told her that already.

He was kind, he was good, and he reaffirmed her confidence in the Bondevik royal family. She owed him moments of innocence and laughter.

And later, when the world was burning, she owed him her life.

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9th of Jaune
"The Day of Death"

Kari was strong. Kari was brave. She had to be.

The world was burning. That was all that anyone was saying. She had not had the courage to pull apart the curtains and see for herself, because the others were saying that the world was burning. All of the light inside the castle was strange and ugly. Normally, the blue-grey hue of the stone walls was matched by the light. Today, redness crept through the covered windows, and cast garish shadows onto the floor. There was panic in the air. There was tension in the air.

Kari could also smell blood in the air, but no one had spoken of it, and she would not be the one to start a conversation. Her mother had her close, running her hands through her long, pale hair, eyes skimming the room, their speed driven by her fear and anxiety.

Screaming reached their ears. Now, she could smell people burning too.

Kari was no fool. She had heard of the escalating tensions, of restrictions and political crises, of murders and assassinations. Of military mobilisation. For over a year, the relationship between the Free Courts and the Saijani Union was akin to a ticking time bomb. But she had not expected that bomb to explode. But explode it had.

She moved away from her mother, towards the windows. The others watched her. She gripped the curtains, one in each hand, and pulled. They slid apart, and she looked outside.

The world was burning.

A thousand fires were burning, on the high hills and low valleys. Houses were crumbling, and even from this distance, she could see the people being gunned down, could see the animals running wild with fear. She could smell smoke, and carnage.

She closed the curtains. Her mother took her hand and pulled her away. The screaming grew louder, and Helene turned to them as heavy footsteps thundered in the distance.

"They are here."

Helene stood tall and proud as the others ran. From what Kari heard, she stood tall and proud until the invaders plunged a dagger through her neck. She regretted every harsh word.

They went via the throne room. The queen lay unmoving, drenched in red. The king, not far away, wasn't even recognisable as a human anymore. They had almost torn him to pieces. But the prince and princess did not lie with them, and that gave them hope.

Kari last saw Prince Lukas Aleksander Bondevik near the gardens, at the rear of the palace. He had blood all over him, and he was turning his mother's crown over in his hands. Unharmed physically but no doubt mentally destroyed. His mother's handmaid, Silje, was trying to keep fleeing servants out of the gardens, saying that the Saijans would know they were here if they continued to come. Lukas remained in a quiet reverie, his small sister Emilia clinging to his vest. He lifted his head, and called over Silje. She went to him immediately, and bent low to hear him. Her face slackened slightly, and she appeared about to protest whatever he had said, but he interrupted whatever word had been half-formed in her mouth with a quiet 'please'.

And Silje obeyed.

On the Day of Death, an eight-year-old Lukas Bondevik saw his parents die. He walked through their pools of blood, trying to get them to wake up. He picked his mother's crown up, found his sister, and his mother's handmaid, and went to the gardens, where he had a chance of escaping.

On the Day of Death, an eight-year-old Lukas Bondevik saw death and destruction all around him. He heard the vicious screams of the invaders who meant to kill him. He saw the small number of well-stocked ships in the courtyard. He ordered his mother's handmaid to fit as many of their servants on those ships as they could. He said goodbye to a nice girl who he liked talking to, and was fun to be around, and watched his chances of definite survival enter open space.

She had sworn.

Sworn that she would do whatever she could to help him. Whatever she could to defend him, or in the case of his death defend Fynkn. Sworn that she would find some way to repay the young prince who had saved her mother's life and her own, repay the young prince who placed the safety of his family's servants above his own.

In the time since, she'd grown bitter, and angry. The only people who she could bring herself to care about were her mother, and the prince.

But she would give her life for him, as he had almost done for her.

Because when his family was dead, and the world was burning, Lukas Bondevik thought of everyone but himself.