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Chapter Text

After a series of tosses, turns, and some groaning, the young Altean prince was finally jolted awake from his sleep. Still high from adrenaline, his deep-sapphire eyes frantically scanned his surrounding area as the sounds of his uneven breathing permeated the still hour.

He finds himself inside a fairly humble abode: surrounded by pale stone walls decorated with unlit candles, a small amount of furniture, a large floor mat, and 2 small windows on the left bedside—the one nearest to him is currently barricaded, for some reason. He recalled that the barricade was a request made by his advisor, Malledus, to ensure the prince’s safety. Apparently, he originally wanted both shut, but disputed with Sir Jagen, claiming that sunlight was necessary for the prince’s growth. Hence, the one-window barricade.

Once he confirmed which plane of reality he was conscious in, Marth finally attempted to calm his racing heart. He clutched where his heart would be before he purposefully took slow breaths. As he was doing so, he notes something that was unlike the subject his unconscious mind just conjured.

I’m still alive.

In amidst those thoughts, the young Altean felt fibers of his skin rise. Studying his arms, he quietly grunted at the sight of pale skin before he embraced himself to combat the creeping cold. The sun isn’t even up yet, he concluded based on the breeze. He cursed his past self for forgetting to close that blasted window. After he violently shook his arms, he rose from his bed, then planted his feet onto the floor mat. As the prince made his way to close the window, images of his home flashed in his mind.

An image of serene fields of wheat and rice welcomed him. Humble farmers were waving in the prince's direction, bright with smiles and cheerful greetings. But one blink instantly turned said fields into a burning wasteland. The warm display of farmers was replaced by several bodies littered across the field. Many wore bloody cuts and protruding weapons, while others had mangled flesh and burnt marks. But for as confusing as the scene was, one thing was made clear. 

Their prince abandoned them.

The young royal repeatedly tried to blink the image away, but the lifeless eyes don’t stop staring at him. So he tried to shut his eyes and physically shake those thoughts off his head. 

When deep sapphires shot themselves open, he finds himself in a whole new space entirely.

He is on horseback, cloaked up from head to toe, as he pressed himself tightly unto the armored knight in front of him. The young prince recognizes the purple armor, which belonged to Sir Jagen. Sighing to the odd relief of familiarity, the prince shifted his gaze to his right to see three more horsemen. All familiar, although one looked off. Instead of the red plates like Sir Cain’s, or Sir Abel’s green, it was… a floating silver armor.

Sir Frey died because of you.

Palms clammy and fingers stiffened, Marth violently clutched his unruly hair as a shock of pain shot through his temples. While fighting his unsteady breathing and palpitating heart, the prince failed to notice his lost footing until he felt his knees and elbow make contact with the floor. The impact elicited a quiet, and quite frankly pathetic, whimper from the young prince as he felt sharp bolts rush from his knees and elbow. A great deal of shame washed itself into the little prince as he curled himself into fetal position, clutching on aching knees. The moment he felt his eyes sting from salty tears, Marth no longer tried to suppress his quiet sobbing.

Marth allowed himself to retreat in this pathetic state of being until the unwelcoming breeze of the night was no longer bearable. Steadily, he raised himself to finally reach the offending window. Once he heard the satisfying click, the prince released a deep breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.

Deep sapphires blankly stared at the shut window. It was only the second night in this who-knows-how-long exile, so he knew he needed much more time to adjust to his new living conditions. Fort Eurus, the eastern fort of Talys, was so generously offered by King Mostyn for the Altean refugees to stay. Despite the kingdom’s low resources, they showed the prince incredible kindness by making their place as comfortable as feasibly possible. But no matter how much Talys offered her warmth, memories of the ablaze Castle Altea continues to haunt the lost prince.

After a few steady breaths, Marth briefly inspected the newly-formed wounds before stepping away from the window. The night breeze didn’t freeze him anymore, but he couldn’t quite will his anxiety to stop.

“...how am I sleeping after this?” he muttered to himself.

Having lost interest in going back to sleep, Marth moved past his bed to walk towards the exit.

He thought that, perhaps, he could start his training early today.

Rays of light peeped through velvet curtains as the scent of the sea danced through the halls. Through the calm castle corridors stood a tall, brawn yet uneasy man. Donned in pads of leather and his steel blade, former-gladiator-turned-mercenary/bodyguard, Ogma shifted his dull blue eyes through every crevice he could find within the hallway. He had only one objective in mind: find the Talysian princess.

The young lady was supposed to be seated by the breakfast table a while ago, yet neither the chef nor their only maid was able to summon her, so the ex-gladiator was tasked to find her. Unfortunately, a full glass of searching yielded no princess. Instead, Ogma is left alone and Caeda-less as he combed through the west hall of Castle Talys.

“Still looking for the princess, big guy?”

Maybe not so alone after all, Ogma thought as soon as the gentle voice spoke behind him.

Turning to face the source, his gaze falls into an amused fairly-aged woman, leaning her side in the castle pillar. She was a former Grustian knight who’d retired to this tiny, secluded island from the busy mainland of Archanea. She didn’t necessarily serve Talys, but she seemed to hold very high regards for King Mostyn. But that wasn’t a story the merc felt the need to know.

“Edith.” Ogma called out.

Chapped lips raised into a playful smirk. No matter the background, Edith was fond of teasing younger folks. But when she recognized the mild discomfort, the war veteran had to fight off every urge in her to tease the younger man. She ultimately chose to answer simply, “yes?”

Unknowingly biting his bottom lip, Ogma eyed Edith’s immediate surroundings before he turned his full attention to her. “Have you seen Her Highness? She was suppos--”

“--supposed to be in the breakfast table?” Edith finished Ogma mid-sentence. When she earned the mercenary’s glare, she answered the question unbothered. “No need to fret over that, big guy. Your princess is only down there.” At that, she raised her hand from her elbow, letting her thumb point behind her.

Dull blue eyes scanned the easygoing veteran before they followed the thumb’s direction. His sight is lead to a village south of Castle Talys.

Basil Village, thought the mercenary. It wasn’t far from where he was. It would only take less than a hundred breaths to reach there by horseback, but with a pegasus…

Before the mercenary could ask Edith anything, she let out a grunt while she pushed herself off the castle pillar. Once the joints in her body stopped protesting, the veteran returned her gaze to the questioning mercenary. “I passed her by while I was out for bread. And it looked like I correctly guessed this was off her curfew, yes?”

Nodding, he felt his scarred brows furrow into disapproval. He wasn’t mad at Caeda, for he knew that the young princess needed to satiate that adventurous side in her. She was a curious child, after all. But that didn’t mean Ogma liked letting the child freely loose like that.

Not with the ever-present threat of banditry.

Although something about Edith’s story struck the mercenary odd. “If I may,” he started. “Why didn’t you just escort Her Highness here, Edith?”

At that, the elderly woman only huddled over as she cackled at the mercenary’s confusion. Truthfully, she could have just escorted the little princess back here. She taught the child some pegasus riding tricks after all, so the girl would’ve complied to her escort. But that wasn’t really the goal she had in mind.

Once recovered, she let her lazy teals stare straight to disgruntled dull blues. But in contrast to her previous display, her chapped lips lifted to a more sincere smile instead. “I passed by her playing with the village children. Not only did she share food, she was teaching them how to read.” She paused briefly to admire the gradually widening eyes of the merc before she continued. “Before that, she had apparently also been helping the fishermen by buying them fish bait. Why would I be compelled to stop that?”

Ogma was taken aback. Kind, pure and devoted: the mercenary was more than familiar of the princess’s biggest traits. For a long time ago, the young princess had also extended that kindness to Ogma himself. Back then, in Archanea, while he served as a gladiator-slave, it was Princess Caeda who took the whipped blow for him from his previous master. Ever since that brave act, the ex-gladiator hadn’t spent a day of life ungrateful for the princess.

As he silently reminisced the past, Ogma felt something swell in him. Fatherly pride, he joked internally. Or perhaps that was the truth, even though he didn’t feel anything familial with the princess—as he rightfully should, he thought.

Realizing that he had been silent for too long, he shook his head off his dazed state. “I see. Would that be all?” He asked curiously.

The smile from the war veteran slowly returned to a smirk when her teal pupils shot the mercenary a knowing look. “I mean, if you don’t feel like letting me take you there…”

As if on cue, he hears an excited whinny from the castle windowsill. Alongside the sound of flapping wings and Edith’s chuckling, Ogma’s mind was praying for the rest of this day to be peaceful.

It was a beaming morning. Perched atop a tower roof, Caeda felt the salty breeze graze her toes as her legs dangled over the edge. While she swung her feet freely, she leaned forward to peer over the bustling village. She watched from children run through paved roads with innocent vigor to merchants excitedly chat with fishermen. When one of the children tugged a man’s shirt before fleeing, Caeda couldn’t resist the smile tugging her lips.

The day had only barely started, yet the princess was already exhausted from the ‘community service’ she did earlier.

“You’ve done so much for us already, Princess. Why not head back home and retire for the day?”

Nearing jumping from shock, Caeda followed the trail of voice before her soft blues rested on the source. “Father Wrys? How did you get here?”

Chuckling at the child’s confusion, the old priest pulled himself further up before settling on the rim of the attic entrance. “Ladders, my lady.”

Fighting the flush off her cheeks, the young princess turned away from the friendly priest for a moment before muttering, “I knew that.” When the priest didn’t reply with more than another chuckle, Caeda cleared her throat before she returned to the elderly. “It’s alright. I just don’t feel like going home yet.”

The priest tilted his head in concern, but remained silent.

When Caeda realized the potential implication of her answer, she quickly clarified. “O-oh! It’s nothing you should worry about, Father Wrys. I just kinda grew bored of father sharing the same stories over and over, you know.”

The flash of worry from the friendly priest vanished somewhat, “I see.” His wrinkled lips slowly rose into a reassuring smile. “So the problem is that he’s running out of stories?”

“Hmm… that’s… you could say that.” Caeda pursed her lips. It truly wasn’t an issue to be worried about, but it still felt wrong to be untruthful to the kind priest.

The real reason why she ran from Castle Talys wasn’t because of her father’s repeating stories. It was related to their visitors’ arrival two days ago. They were refugees from the felled kingdom of Altea, an ally to her country. When she heard what had happened to the Altean victims, her mind had been restless since.

Archanea is at war right now, the princess anxiously thought. Gra destroyed Altea to leave thousands dead and homeless. If it had been Talys… Cold sweat dripped from her jawline as she felt her pale knuckles turn paler.

“Why not tell your own story?”

Forgetting the presence of another, Caeda had to shake herself awake to catch the priest’s words. “…what?”

“Your father had been doing all the storytelling, yes? So, why not take his place instead to share your own story? I’m confident King Mostyn would be delighted to hear your tales, my lady.”

Right. Stories. That was the excuse she used.

But if there’s anything she learned from being royalty, it was that half-truths make good lies. Amongst other things, she chided herself silently.

Because the “repeating stories” part wasn’t exactly a lie.

“Okay. I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Father Wrys.” She returned the priest’s wholehearted smile. Even if it wasn’t the intention, at least she found a solution to another problem.

After she said her thanks, she felt a sudden gust of wind throw her way, nearly blowing her skirt off. When she turned to face the offending source, she regrettably let out a quiet squeak.

“O-Ogma?!”

Chapter Text

“You wound me, little bird.”

“I-I’m sorry! When I saw Ogma, m-my vision kinda tunneled, and didn’t notice you…”

“You noticed my passenger, who was seated behind me, before you noticed me? … H-how could you, princess?”

“Edith.”

Chuckling, the war veteran shrugged off the man’s glare before she returned to giving her winged steed some treats. “Okay, okay. I’ll stop teasing the princess.”

“You’re lucky that King Mostyn is a merciful man,” grunted the mercenary.

“I’m lucky that King Mostyn has a sense of humor,” corrected the old veteran.

Caeda chuckled at the two grown adults. Who knew that even an elderly war veteran could have the heart of a child?

After Edith flew Ogma to Basil Village, they immediately spotted the princess atop the bell tower. When she tried to explain herself, Father Wrys intercepted her and did the work for her. Although something in her felt like the priest didn’t exactly believe the story either. Regardless, neither of her two guardians-of-the-day asked questions.

Right now, they are in the village stable to collect her own pegasus.

“I guess we should get going now, little bird.” Edith’s voice broke through her thoughts.

When Caeda nodded, she felt Ogma push himself off a wall before making his way to the exit. “I’ll be at the gates,” was all he said before disappearing completely.

As Caeda prepared her ride’s reins, her pegasus gently pressed her curious snout at the princess, earning the mare a childish giggle. “Stop that, you…” She felt herself snicker.

After a short game of tugging, Caeda heard the elderly ask her. “How was your morning here, by the way?”

Caeda brushed her silver steed’s beautiful mane before she turned to her sometimes-teacher. “I had a great time here, Miss Edith! I didn’t realize just how many different kinds of bread we had here…”

The elderly woman let out an amused huff. “Wait until you see Grust, birdie. You haven't seen half of it.”

Excited with child-like glee, Caeda raised herself to her toes as she tried to peer over her curious mare. “Really?!”

Although delighted, Edith was surprised at the princess’s thrilled response. But she had to resist the urge to cup the child’s cheeks with delight, for as adorable as the princess was, she was still royalty. “Yes, little bird,” she eventually settled her response. “I’m sure you’ll get your chance to explore them one day.”

Although Edith meant to encourage the child, Caeda felt her chest tighten at the reminder of the ongoing war. She couldn’t erase the image of their Altean visitors’ sunken eyes, matched with their ragged looks. Especially the young prince.

As the distressing thoughts plagued the princess, she yelped as she felt the reins in her grip jerk. “H-hey! N-Nora—“

At the sound of distressed neighing, Edith quickly but skillfully tugged the princess from the agitated mare. “Princess,” she calmly but sternly called. “Remember, she can sense your feelings.”

Although shaken at first, Caeda eventually stilled her own breathing before she hastily rose to her trembling steed. “Shh… I’m sorry, Nora. I didn’t mean to scare you…” she hushed her winged beast. She felt ashamed—stupid, even—for forgetting the key detail to raising pegasi. That pegasi were empaths. It didn’t help that Nora was barely an adult herself.

With the help of Edith’s mare of her own, the little mare eventually was calmed enough to listen to her owner. “Nora…”

“…I think we made Ogma wait long enough.”

Caeda made a strong effort to avoid eye contact when the uncharacteristically quiet woman led her and their mares out of the stables.

Aside from the occasional teasing from the eccentric woman—much to Ogma’s chagrin—their flight to the Castle Talys was surprisingly uneventful.

As strong yet youthful wings flapped to the rhythm of feathered hooves, Caeda allowed herself a moment of peace as the ocean winds blew past her face. The morning sun only exemplified this feeling of serenity with its gentle warmth as it bathed her skin.

And she made sure to treasure this moment of respite before she had to meet her father.

It wasn’t because she feared King Mostyn’s wrath—far from it.

She feared his plans for her for the rest of the day.

So it didn’t take long for the princess to attempt her escape to her bed room.

Unfortunately, the King thought ahead of her.

“And where do you think are you going, young lady?”

“Eep!” She let out another embarrassing yield when she ran straight to the Talysian King. “F-father!? H-hi there… I was… umm…”

The older man raised an eyebrow as he watched his precious child sheepishly attempt to answer him. “Yes? You were…?”

Caeda gulped as she felt her father’s heavy gaze on her. She knew that skipping breakfast would lead to this, but she underestimated how prepared she was at her father’s stern gaze. Even if she had a knack for it, she really wasn’t fond of lying. “I was… gonna head to bed. Because tired…” The princess inside her was already screaming before she finished that sentence, but she really couldn’t care less. Whether if she was partially or wholly truthful, she knew her father would figure out the answer anyway.

“It has only been two hours after sunrise, darling. Why are you tired?” Despite the king’s stern gaze, his voice was gentle. King Mostyn wasn’t known to be ruthless compared to the other known kings in history. Even though he was a capable fighter, his love and kindness was really what made him king. And that love would extend to his family.

“…couldn’t sleep,” was all she was capable of saying.

“So you skipped breakfast to escape to Basil, so you could keep your mind off of the war?”

Like an open book, thought the disgruntled princess.

King Mostyn watched his child stare at her own feet. It wasn’t hard to tell how the princess was feeling, and he knew the girl wasn’t fit for whatever request (or punishment) he thought up for her. “You said you were tired, yes,” he spoke instead. When Caeda quietly nodded, the King gently grazed his hand over his daughter’s cheek. “Okay, dear. Why don’t you go and catch up with your sleep while I decide a suitable punishment for you?”

Caeda quietly scoffed at her father’s suggestion but complied nonetheless. She didn’t think she had the energy nor the position to bargain anyway. “Mmh. Good night.”

The king allowed his daughter to pass him by. Once the girl was out of sight, he finally let out an audible sigh. She’s more affected to this than I thought, pondered the king. He had hoped that the princess would be able to help the Altean prince’s burden. But if she wasn’t up for the idea…

No, I must trust that she is stronger than this, King Mostyn firmly reasserted. It was completely natural for a child to be shaken by the news of war, but to assume she wouldn’t grow stronger from that pain was foolish.

And even if she would struggle to fight it, the king knew the princess wouldn’t be alone.

A few hours passed after that busy morning. She didn’t recall much after speaking with her father besides collapsing into sleep. When she felt sun rays turn harsher, Caeda let out an exasperated sigh before she pushed herself off her bed.

After a generous amount of stretching, the princess finally felt energized enough to trek off into the castle halls.

Although Talys had a king and a castle, they didn’t have an order of knights, for the country felt too small to warrant one. Besides, historically speaking, the Talysians were battle-ready tribesmen, so mercenaries and sellswords were almost more common than fishermen.

So the silence in the halls was something Caeda felt too used to.

Another reason why I left earlier, she felt herself solemnly smile at the sight of emptiness.

But she wasn’t here to loiter in the halls.

A couple of footsteps after she stepped out of her bedroom later, she was standing before the King of Talys. A smile of relief graced the man’s lips. It seemed like, whatever the older man was thinking earlier, he was worried over nothing.

“Good afternoon, Princess,” spoke the friendly king. “How was your sleep?”

“I don’t even remember sleeping,” the royal child let out a lighthearted laugh.

The king nodded with a simple “good.” He paused for a brief moment before he felt himself grin at the princess’s guarded gaze at him. “Relax, darling. I won’t make you take over cleaning the duty this time.” He couldn’t resist the chuckle from escaping his lips when he heard his only child let out a relieved sigh. “I do have something to ask of you, though.”

The young princess took in a deep breath. “Yes, father?”

“Remember Prince Marth?”

At that, Caeda felt the colors in her face drain away.

And the forlorn look on the princess was not lost on the king. “It’s but a simple request. Can you do it for me?”

She took in a copious amount of air before she slowly breathed them out. “What do you ask of me, father?” Caeda was caught off-guard when she heard her father stand on his feet. “Father?”

King Mostyn took a careful stride at his child as he wore a solemn smile. When he fully made eye contact with her, he spoke with his tone matching his daughter’s forlorn look. “I was hoping to take Prince Marth around Talys. Although the prince is in-hiding, I intend that his stay here would be as comfortable as possible. Make him feel secure—at home. Even if it is temporary.”

“…I see…” Caeda bit her lip as her gaze slowly drifted from the monarch. She couldn’t take her eyes off the ground as she recalled a recent memory.

That had been her intention when the morning after the Alteans’ arrival came. She was more than happy to help lighten their burdens, even if only a little. But his look of restrained grief held her back. Like a caged and cornered hound, she knew that approaching the prince at such a vulnerable state was a dangerous move.

Not when the boy’s knuckles over his rapier was as white as clouds.

As memories of that morning passed, she felt a comforting warmth planted over her shoulder. She trailed her gaze at her father’s hand before looking up, her soft blues making contact with her father’s clouded ones.

“I don’t expect him to adjust quickly, so we have to start slow.”

‘We,’ the princess repeated internally. Quickly remembering to answer her father, Caeda poised herself up, befitting for a princess, before she spoke. “So, what are we to do, father?”

“So I was hoping to invite him—and his knights, of course—for tonight’s dinner.”

Chapter Text

I missed one breakfast and now he wants a whole dinner party, the young princess mentally chided her father as she braced through the winds and the comparatively harsher sunlight. She had taken flights worse than the all-too-clear summer skies—not to mention humid ones. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed to curse at the dreadful heat. Even if she was a summer person. Supposedly.

“May I ask a question, my lady?” The young princess heard the sound of her passenger against the gusts of wind.

“Go on,” was all she could respond with as she raised a palm from her reins to block the blazing sun from her eyes.

“If all His Majesty requested was to forward a message, why didn’t he just a send messenger?”

Because father is a funny man, was what she would’ve answered if she weren’t royalty. Instead, took in a deep breath as she thought about how to phrase her answer. “It is because I am to speak with an important person.”

She didn’t hear an immediate response, but she assumed that an affirmative grunt was supposed to take place. The winds probably drowned them out. After a short silence, her passenger spoke again, “will you be alright, my lady?”

Huffing at the very notion that assumed the princess was incapable, Caeda swiftly turned her head to catch the concerned look of her supposed-bodyguard. “I’ll be fine, Ogma. Remember my last training results?” A confident smirk raised the corner of her lips. She knew that bragging didn’t befit a princess, but the freeing sensation while airborne nulled every internal voice scolding her.

But the look of concern from the mercenary didn’t falter. If anything, his brows only drew closer. “Forgive me, princess, but that doesn’t prepare you from possible arrows.”

The princess scoffed in respond as her soft blues scanned off the field below her feet. Although there were forests, they were neither dense nor widespread enough to scare the bold princess. “I don’t remember bandits to wielding bows, mercenary.”

“Neither do I recall pegasus knights wielding swords.”

She knew the mercenary hadn’t meant it to sting, but Caeda winced nonetheless. When she took up lessons in pegasus-riding, she didn’t expect to have learn how to wield lances. Unfortunately, she had trained with her sword long before she even touched a pegasus, so the sudden transition from swordplay to lancework hadn’t been so smooth. In fact, that transition wasn’t even finished yet.

“…please forgive me, Your Highness.” Ogma quietly woke Caeda out of her dazed silence. “I had no intention to disrespect.” He truly hadn’t meant to belittle the royal. He only spoke out of concern—fear, even—for the young princess. Especially when considering his past as a gladiator…

She let her own silence linger for a moment. Caeda truly disliked being looked down on like that, but seeing the anxious gaze from the usually-steely man made her falter. As much as she hated to admit it, she supposed she still had a lot of room to grow. She was only thirteen, after all.

Breathing out a defeated sigh, she filled in the quiet winds. “…If it makes you feel better, I’ll remain in Fort Eurus until you get back.”

She didn’t miss the mercenary’s hesitance when the blonde man responded with a quiet, “very well, Your Highness.”

Shortly after dropping Ogma at his destination, Caeda took to the skies again. It wasn't like she had plans for the rest of the day anyway, so she had no qualms with the sudden promise she made earlier.

The only problem was: how was she to approach the prince?

Forwarding a simple invitation didn’t require a lot of planning, but staying over until daybreak did. Several questions ran through her head as the summer breeze rang through her ears. How would Prince Marth react to her impromptu stay-over? Would she be able to help the prince feel comfortable before the dinner? What if Prince Marth declined the invite? Would he even accept another person in his life without fearing loss?

You two barely spoke, you neanderthal, she thought she heard the sound of her own unamused voice.

A small pondering later, she eventually felt inclined to agree to that voice. There was no reason to assume the prince’s behavior when she barely even knew him. The most she recalled of the prince, besides the war thing, was a small ‘hi’ back when they were fledglings. But that memory was only made possible due to their fathers’ longtime friendship.

But now, the other half of that friendship is gone. The man had left the young prince without a father. And if the known brutality of war spoke of anything, he may as well be without a family now.

At the thought of the prince being orphaned, Caeda felt every fiber in her heart constrict. What did the boy do to deserve that pain? And to have to shoulder his broken country’s suffering on top of that… 

Caeda did not envy the poor prince’s disposition, but that didn’t mean she was to take that privilege for granted. For pity was far from the only thing that blossomed out of her heartache.

A few moments later, Caeda eventually caught sight of the eastern fort.

Fort Eurus, that eastern fort of Talys. Known to be the youngest of the three Talysian forts, it was only recently erected after the total massacre of Auden Village, an old village south of Fort Eurus. It had been meant to hold villagers for refuge from potential pirate attacks. But as of now, that fort is holding the Altean refugees.

As she felt the weight of Nova’s feathered hooves land on the earth beneath, Caeda readily hopped off her steed before the entrance. She had to greet the visitors before she’d accidentally scare them with her sudden arrival, after all. Initially, she was met with silence when she tapped the fort entrance, but another tap resulted in an audible budge.

As the thick wooden door swung itself, the princess was greeted by one of the Altean knights. He was a young man with short green hair that paired well with his jade eyes, but his demeanor undeniably spoke of chivalry.

But those pair of greens widened into saucers at the sight of the princess. “Princess Caeda?” The knight asked bewilderedly. “Of purpose has brought you here, princess?”

Caeda chuckled at the knight’s astonished expression. But she tried reassuring the alarmed foreigner nonetheless. “There is nothing urgent to be concerned about, Sir… er….”

“Sir Abel, Your Highness.”

“R-right! Abe—Sir Abel.” Drat, she going to have to pay mind to knight titles from now on. After she mentally chided herself for that slip-up, she cleared her throat before returning to the patient Altean. “You see, I wish to speak with your prince. Would you allow me the honor, Ab—Sir Abel?”

She released a quiet sigh of relief when the knight moved aside to grant the princess entrance. As she stepped foot in the fort, the first thing that caught her attention was its surprising silence. She recalled that there were more or less seven refugees—including the prince—so she hadn’t expected a crowd. But it still felt too quiet for its size. When she heard the satisfying click from the door behind her, she felt the green knight quickly catch up to the princess’s pace. “It is quite… quiet here, Sir Abel.”

Before she could mentally pat herself for remembering the knightly title, she received a quick response from the knight in the form of a solemn nod. “Two of the knights had gone off to a nearby market for tonight’s supper.” He reported dutifully. “Sir Jagen and Malledus are currently overseeing His Highness’s training.”

At the sound of the last part, Caeda couldn’t miss the silent sense of melancholy from the knight. It is only his second day here in Talys yet he’s already prepping himself for war.

How old was he supposed to be again?

But as Caeda mentally performed a headcount of the Alteans, her unspoken question was swiftly answered by the diligent knight. “You… need not worry of the last one…”

Caeda couldn’t tell if she wanted to laugh at the knight’s poorly disguised exasperation or press for details. Instead, she respectfully chose to shut up.

A few brisk footsteps later, Sir Abel and the princess stood before an archway. From the sound of winds and the chirping birds, Caeda surmised that the archway led to the fort’s training grounds.

But before the princess could comment anything, a loud crack of wood rang from outside. Startled at the sudden noise, Caeda instinctively raced through the archway to follow its source. Likewise, Abel swiftly followed suit.

Once outside the fort, Caeda took a sharp breath when her frightened pair of blues caught sight of a fallen straw dummy, a shattered wooden sword, and the overexerted prince.

“Sire!?”

A strained voice of anguish woke her from her brief dazed state. A swift shake of her head later, Caeda found herself staring at the obviously exhausted prince.

His disheveled blue hair covered his eyes, but the dark circles under them were still visible. His arms limply fell beside him as his strained knees finally gave out.

Before Caeda or Abel could react, an elderly knight had already caught the young boy in his arms.

The elderly knight had thin silver hair, not unlike Ms. Edith’s, but his face bore a stricter and more disciplined demeanor compared to the woman. Caeda recalled from her father that the man was called Sir Jagen. Apparently stern and resolute, the aged man had served the Altean Royal family since the late king of Altea was a boy.

But at the moment, the scarred elderly knight only wore a gentle look of care for the young prince.

While she was pondering at the scene before her, she jumped when her unfocused vision was interrupted by another aged man. Unlike Sir Jagen, this man was a balding old man with a silver mustache. Contrasting the armored knights, he wore white robes that spoke of both knowledge and wisdom. If Caeda had to recall correctly, this man was called Malledus, a former confidant of the late king.

“Please forgive us for the unsightly display, princess,” the man—Malledus—spoke to the Talysian Princess. Unlike the elderly knight, this man did not share the same caring look for the prince. But neither did it hold any contempt. If there was any credit Caeda could give the man, it was his unreadable demeanor.

From the little interaction she witnessed before her, she decided that she liked Jagen more than Malledus.

Casting that childish judgment aside, Caeda finally turned her worrisome smile to the balding man. “Oh, there is nothing for you to apologize over.” Truly, she felt guilty for ignoring the prince’s predicament in favor of quietly judging the elderly men.

Malledus gratefully nodded before they heard a sudden cough from the drained prince.

“W-what’s—ahem, will Prince Marth be alright, Malledus?”

The man’s browed furrowed as his tired gaze returned to his liege. The boy had been training all day with nigh zero breaks, despite the knights’ protests, so the result was unsurprising. What he hadn’t expected was another witness.

Letting out a deep breath, Malledus faced the young princess again with a mournful expression. “He had overworked himself into exhaustion. A moment of rest shall let him recover.”

Caeda watched as the elderly knight—Sir Jagen, she recalled—lifted the prince off his feet, presumably to take him to his quarters. Before Jagen turned to the archway, he mustered a solemn bow to greet the Talysian princess. In all honesty, she had completely forgotten all sense of manners when she heard the training sword snap.

She responded to the knight in kind, with a nod of her own. As Jagen passed her by, she felt her gaze sting as they trailed the elderly knight's direction. She could’ve sworn she heard a quiet sob.

Chapter Text

After witnessing Prince Marth pass out at the fort training grounds, she knew that any plans for a joint dinner had already gone off the window. So she, unfortunately, couldn’t fulfill her father’s request on that front, which delegated her to another task entirely. But something within the stubborn princess told her that the visit with the prince hadn’t gone to waste.

If anything, she felt her resolve to raise the prince’s spirit strengthened considerably.

And that strengthened resolve must have transmitted itself into her actions noticeably enough to catch the attention of another.

“Are you sure you needed the extra arms, princess?”

The princess found herself giggling at her peppy companion.

After explaining her father’s intentions to the Altean elderlies, Caeda was swiftly brought home once Ogma had arrived at Fort Eurus. King Mostyn was understanding of Prince Marth’s situation, and no fault of that was Caeda’s, so half of their dinner was given to the chef and the maid to be brought to their respective families. Their dinner was relatively uneventful. But the breakfast after, King Mostyn decided that her daughter hadn’t fulfilled her due punishment.

So here she was: inside the Basil fish market, lifting a comparatively large bag containing large, fatty fish. Well, compared to the girl beside her anyway.

“I’m no pushover, but I’m not built like a brick either.” Giggled the young princess.

Caeda turned at the girl struggling to lift her share of fish. It was one of the fishermen’s daughters, a bright-eyed teen who was not far from her own age. She happily volunteered to assist the princess when she saw the young royal fumble with her shopping list. Unfortunately, she hadn’t anticipated the sheer quantity of the princess’s purchase.

The girl momentarily dropped her pile of goods to catch her breath. “You’re incredible, princess…” She somehow managed to breathe out. “I bet you could take down every boy in this village!”

The young princess only shrugged at the odd enthusiasm from the girl. Combat training of early age was natural for any citizen of Talys, whether of what status or gender, due their long history of pirate raids. Although King Mostyn’s reign made that practice less common, Caeda still felt obligated to do her part to the culture. If you could even call it that. But despite her own prowess in combat, she isn’t a violent person. When unprompted, that is.

“If I get angry enough, maybe,” the princess joked in response, but she wasn’t all that enthused with the prospect of fighting. She loathed violence more than anyone else.

She allowed her helper to take a breather before they resumed their walk shortly after.

While they strolled across the lively market, the fisherman’s daughter caught the princess by surprise when she asked her question. “Does it get lonely in your castle, princess?” When the princess was too stilled to answer, the girl continued. “I mean, it’s only you and King Mostyn, right? No mother or siblings… Your cooks and maids don’t even stay overnight!”

If there was anything Caeda could commend the girl for, it was her bluntness—albeit from naivety over cynicism. 

“I guess,” Caeda carefully answered. It was no surprise that the life of royalty came with loneliness, hence, the royal family were historically large yet tight-knit. Even if some did end in disputes. Unfortunately for the princess of Talys, however, her mother had passed away only shortly after her birth, so she didn’t have the luxury to have siblings.

She quickly cleared her throat before her helper noticed the princess’s solemn look. “But the joy from seeing my people—that’s you, guys,” the princess felt herself smirk as she added the latter part, “is more than enough for me. I mean, how could I not smile when everyone is so nice to me?”

“Oh!! That’s right!” The peppy girl brightened at the princess’s answer. “But that’s because you’re so kind, and sweet, and beautiful, and sweet, Princess Caeda!”

She really ‘sweet’ twice…

“And also, with you here, I feel like I could do anything!!” As she continued, the peppy girl practically pumped a fist in the air, earning the attention of merchants and customers surrounding them. “Even this stupid sack of bananas and tomatoes that you were supposed to carry!” 

At the sight of the overtly cheery girl, Caeda couldn’t even hide a smile even if she wanted.

“I don’t see the need for this many fishes, father.”

After a tiring morning of playing her father’s delivery service, Caeda was left alone with her father by their dinner table. It was far too early for lunch, so why they were there is unknown to the princess.

“Why not? I like fish.”

Caeda had to resist the urge to smack her own face when she caught her father, King Mostyn—He Who United the Once-Divided Talys—grinning from ear to ear like a mischievous child. “I know that. But why this many?”

When the man only shrugged, Caeda grunted as she crossed her arms. But before she could walk away, her father finally answered. “Stockpile. Just in case you planned to stay over in Fort Eurus. That’s all.”

How did he--?

“Or was I wrong to assume you’d leave me over a boy?”

At this, the princess forcibly willed the heat in her cheeks to subside. It wasn’t effective. “FATHER!”

At this, the jovial king bellowed into laughter.

While her father continued his fit of laughter—at her expense, mind you—Caeda hid her face in embarrassment as she tried to give her best defense possible. “I-it’s nothing like that, f-father!” Oh, how she craved to burrow herself into a hole.

After the recovered from his fit of laughter, the gentle king slowly walked over to his flustered daughter before embracing her. “I was only teasing, dear. I’m sorry.”

Although the princess knew it was unnecessary, she still appreciated the apology and the warm embrace. Even still, her eyes avoided her father’s. But she was able to mutter an “it’s alright” loud enough for her father to hear.

Letting go after their brief moment of familial affection, King Mostyn cleared his throat before his gaze returned to the pile of goods atop their dining table. “So… When do you plan to leave?”

It had taken until the after lunch for Caeda to prepare her flight to Fort Eurus. Provisions? Check. Extra clothing? Check. Music box in case she couldn’t get herself to sleep? Check. And she didn’t forget her personal Winged Sword, either. Only a few moments later, the energized princess already took to the skies.

Just like yesterday, the summer sun was similarly harsh. The only difference was that she wasn’t accompanied by her supposed bodyguard.

Ogma had apparently been tasked with his band of merc for… scouting, maybe? She wasn’t sure entirely, but it sounded like a daunting task, so Caeda was fine with flying alone. She knew that she was sharp enough to avoid any ambush if she stayed off ground. Besides, knowing her father, she was confident that she’d see Ogma again anyway sometime after her arrival.

Her flight to the eastern fort was made faster with only one passenger, so Caeda was at least grateful at that. Less than an hour later, she already set her steady feet on dirt. After the princess threw the chatty Nova a treat for her patience, she turned to knock the familiar entrance.

To her surprise, she was greeted by the same green-haired knight as the day before. Only this time, the man was not alone. “P-princess?” Asked the likewise bewildered knight.

“A—Sir Abel, was it?” Titles, Caeda. “May I enter?”

After an affirming nod, Abel swung the heavy wooden door wider. As the princess took in the entrance, she was able to see who had accompanied the green knight. He wore armor similar to Abel, only it was dyed in red. Alongside that, the man had fiery red hair to matched his similarly searing eyes. Seeing the knights together felt like comparing night and day.

Noticing the princess’s quiet gaze, the red knight took a quick bow to greet the princess. “Sir Cain, my lady.”

More knightly titles to pay mind to, she noted as she returned her bow to the knight. “I hope your stay in Talys had brought you the warmth and comfort you needed in these trying times, Sir Cain.”

As the red-headed knight assumed his relaxed posture from before, he responded to the kind princess with a cheerful grin of his own. “It truly has, princess. The beach here is incredibly breathtaking!”

Suddenly, Caeda understood who Abel’s exasperation was directed to yesterday.

But despite the almost whimsical nature of Sir Cain’s answer, the quiet melancholy behind those words did not go unnoticed. Only three days ago, these men had been running for their lives, only barely keeping said lives intact from their turbulent journey through the turbulent seas.

Clearing her throat before responding, Caeda turned to the red knight with a serene smile. “I am glad you’ve found a suitable place to retreat to, Sir Cain.”

Cain seemed relieved at the princess’s answer before he pivoted to the general hall. “What brought you here, princess?” He inquired while they roamed, Abel quietly following behind.

“Well…” Caeda allowed herself to observe the halls this time. This time, she found another knight around a far corner. He was large and stout with short green hair, seemingly taking a nap. Was green hair common in Altea, she quietly pondered. Although more crowded than yesterday, the fort was still quieter than she expected. When she felt the expectant gaze from Cain, she swiftly continued. “I was to check on Prince Marth. Is… How has he been doing, by the way?”

The frown from the pair did not spell well for the princess.

Though Cain couldn’t quite answer the princess, Abel stepped forward to explain in his stead. “He has recovered enough to walk on his own since yesterday’s accident, princess. But…”

Caeda felt her brows furrow as she swiftly turned her whole body to the somber knight. She knew what had happened then. But what happened after she left?

She caught the knight let out a sigh before a pair of jade gazed at her soft blues. “Earlier this breakfast, His Highness chose to dine in his quarters alone.”

Before Caeda could even gasp at the news, Cain shortly followed his brother in arms. “It was like that this lunch, too, princess. But what’s weird was that he insisted that he continue his training.”

If her heart wasn’t already aching before, it certainly is now.

As if reading her thoughts, Cain hastily took into the hallways. It took the princess a few blinks before realizing what the red knight had intended.

Although she knew the answer to her question, Caeda asked anyway. “Is he allowing visitors?”