Penelope leads the charge outside, dragging us behind her at a disappointing pace. Marcus hands Randy two coins; he gives us a look as if he didn't ask for this, yet as Penelope throws her arm around his, it brings the hint of a smirk to his lips. "Go about your day, citizens. We can meet back here in the evening, can't take all a man's money first thing in the morning. Besides, a lady shouldn't be walking alone in a strange town full of the enemy."

I wrinkle my nose in response to the suggestion that the elves were entirely the enemy, though I suppose we had just been at war with them. I had the paperwork that the war was over, but it wasn't like I'd turned it over yet.  

"Penelope and I will scout the town while she runs your errands," Verando concludes, catching my gaze; I quickly look away while crossing my arms over my chest. 

"What a gentleman." Penelope teases, curtsying towards me as she spins him around to take him away.

When I hear their footprints trending towards leaving, I allow a glimpse of his back. The pair laughs; he's not nearly so tall compared to her, and she leans her head against his bicep in a way that might even be convincing. When my chest feels like it might crack, and I can't take this feeling of betrayal, I catch him sparing me a glance as the corner of his mouth falls.  

Unable to accept that I was staring, I turned around promptly to march into the city. I needed to visit city hall and deliver my papers before we did anything else. "What the hell is happening there? What do they think they're doing running off together?" I ask Marcus as we walk, attempting to sound more curious than accusing. 

"Does it matter? Why do you care?" Marcus grumbles, taking a bite of his pastry. I refuse the offering, not quite hungry after what I'd witnessed and gone through last night. I was still on edge about it, feeling out of control and not quite sure what the intention behind it had been. Marcus hadn't sounded himself. I'd gotten what I was asking for, yet it had frightened me with how little he listened to me. 

My body ached, and every bit of me felt rubbed raw and stung with any sudden movements.  

"Yes!" The abruptness of my offense causes me to pause, feeling the heat of the man beside me spark to life. A rumble in his chest caught me off guard; it sounded so much more feral than the others, making me shiver as I cleared my throat. "I mean.. it's disobedience more than anything."

When I fell for that gray-haired lunatic, it was because I'd experienced great trauma- mostly at his hand. Penelope had just suffered the loss of Frost, and I was so preoccupied with Marcus that it made sense that she would cling to the warlord now. He could be charming and charismatic; Verando is a lover of men; she felt the same comfort with him that she did with me.

 Running a hand through my hair, I excuse the thought. Let it go. I was in no mood to walk today and encouraged Marcus to saddle our horses.  

We make our way through the city, surprised by how the population of this fishing town has expanded. Though it was mostly populated by elves, the occasional human wandered among them. We stuck out like a sore thumb, and with my royal attire under my cloak, it was becoming evident that we had gained a few stares. 

Arriving at city hall, I leave Marcus behind to watch our horses while I run the paperwork, declaring peace and a cease-fire to the clerk. The woman blinks, glancing up at me from her desk as she chews quietly on a piece of dried meat. "The hell is this?"

"Peace. You're to liberate your lycans immediately." I tell her, annoyed that she's over four inches taller than me. 

Cocking an eyebrow, she glances at the papers, eyes widening slightly at the royal seal. "This looks pretty damn official." Tilting her head, her gaze runs past me to note Marcus with our horses. "What about your own slave? I'm assuming, by how you're dressing, that you're some higher-up-..."

"Prince Nicolas Mattesscu. I'm the last son of the royal family, and you'd do well to keep your gaze to your means. That man is a hired hand." I interject shortly, keeping my tone as even as possible. "I am bringing forward the treaty personally to all of the elven cities to ensure that it's done in short order. That means that, by the end of the week, all lycans must be liberated."

Sitting back in her chair, she looks over the papers once more. "There will have to be a meeting—I hope you have a better speech prepared than just your breeding. It means nothing here, 'Prince' Nicolas. Our city has not engaged in trade with the Magic influence for many years. You'd do well to remember that with your lovely personality. Now.. I'll run this to the Mayor and the Duke, but expect to hear from them promptly."

It takes all of my training to keep my mouth quiet, to not retort with a backlash of facts, reminding them that they'd enjoyed the protection my father offered even if they didn't trade with us. But, that wouldn't do me any good, I merely smile though it doesn't touch my eyes. "Right, oh, and your name, please?"

The elf woman hesitates, looking up from the paper as she proceeds to read over it again. "Why?"

I shrug, taking a glance around before snatching a paper off her desk to scribble a quick description of her and shove it in my pocket. "No reason. Carry on."

My father ruled all of Romania, but in his aging years, the other kingdoms were granted sister territories to help manage the vast space. This aided in the truce of the nations, keeping us divided but safe. However, all were supposed to stay in their designated areas unless given a passport and the crown. 

I don't remember this region gaining such leniency for elvish blood. Hayrek's father managed the port from a monetary perspective, not as a territory, so where had all the magical residents gone?

"Whole lot of knife ear," Marcus murmurs as I exit the building, grumbling in my mother tongue. 

I smack him, scowling at the term.

"Phrases like that are what got us into this mess!" I can't stand it any longer, the war was supposed to be ending, but it would never be peaceful if we didn't stop hating each other. "Help me on my horse," I demand, making him kneel so I could use his thigh as a mounting block to climb back into my saddle. "Damn beasts are taller every day; we couldn't be bothered to find a royal pony, now could we."

 The city is beautiful, modern, and bustling with activity. It's nothing like the little fishing town I thought it would be, Haryek thought going to one of the more congenial ports would guarantee us the most success. It would make sense that the Lordship wouldn't want his boats floating in dank peasant harbors.

 Marcus doesn't gain as much attention as our other companion, though with very few humans to absorb us into the crowd, my red hair and his complexion stood out strongly against the pastel shades of elves. Especially with his heavy coat and scarf, I think people are more impressed with his skin color than with his size. 

Easily one of the darkest people here, coupled with my olive skin, we were an oddity. A trait I'd never appreciated in Elves was the appreciation for all things exotic. We neared the docks, approaching the Dockmaster, who appeared to be yelling at a few tanned men to load his ship faster. They were stocking it full of cargo, massive crates, and various sacks.  

"Excuse us. We're here with orders from the newly throned Lord Haryek of Ziduri. We need a vessel and a small crew to take us on a short voyage. A honeymoon, to be exact." I tell him with a smile, judging by the clerk in City Hall, I would be met with much the same if I just started throwing around that I was taking away his help. 

Marcus gives me a strange look, and I elbow him. The Dockmaster looks me up and down before moving back to tying off one of his crates. With a sigh, I step off my horse, dusting myself off and stepping towards the elf. 

"It's a surprise for a friend of the Lordship. Just a quick trip into the ocean and back. A few weeks is all." I insist, standing before the crate before smacking my palm on the top to catch his attention. With a flinch and a glower, the Dockmaster glares up at me with a stern frown.

"This your slave?" He asks.

 I steal a glimpse over his shoulder and see the majority of his crew are lycans. Do I break the facade now and risk not getting a ride? We don't have the numbers right now to enforce the liberation. Handing him the paperwork that commandeered the boat, I compose my face. "No. He's a free man. Hired help."

 The elf looks over my papers, reading them quite a few times, just as the clerk had. Taking off his hat, he smacks it on the crate with an elvish slur and spits on the floor. 

"This is some decree..." He mutters, looking towards Marcus suspiciously. "Signed by every court member, telling me to free my Lycans along with giving you a ride. This some joke?"  He hands them back over, nearly tossing them. "A Magic realm Prince doesn't have much say in elf territory; this could easily be forged and you're wasting my time. I heard your parents are dead; have you even been sworn in yet? Aren't you a bit short to be a King?"

Taken off guard, I purse my lips, filling my lungs with air. "I assure you that the new Lordship would take great offense to you speaking to his closest ally in such a manner. Lest you not forget that my father owns this country and these lands; you're merely borrowing them. All ports in Romania are on a lease from the Magical sector, and Elves own no territory, sir. So yes, I'd say I have a lot of say in this city. "

 I take a chance. "I'm not here to enforce laws; I'm here to take my friends on their honeymoon and get a much-needed vacation. What you decide to do with the information provided, as long as we get what we need, can be discussed later. I assure you, Sir, I'm a Prince and not a messenger, and I hope your manners are not so lacking that you'd treat me as one."

 The Dockmaster glances back and forth between the two of us, practically waiting out my gag reflex, for I'm disgusted by my behavior. I'm selling out the freedom of men for a boat ride, but we can not be delayed any longer. We can't help them all right now; while I knew I'd get pushback, I didn't expect the level of hostility. It'd be an all-out brawl, leaving a trail behind for anyone who wanted to hunt for the book. 

"You're okay with this, mutt?" He asks Marcus, who forces a smile. 

"I'm following orders, Sir. The crown doesn't pay me to think."  

"Loyal, my ass. Keep your dog on a chain, and we have a deal. We will leave in a week. Be back here when the sun rises after the full moon, and we will give you your boat ride. Boys don't like to be out at sea when the moon's full. I'm hoping Haryek sent compensation for the lost work of going out and returning for no reason?" 

I hand him over a purse of coins, and he glances into it, counts quietly, and nods. 

"We have a no-tolerance policy. Keep that wolf under wraps. It shows up on board, and you will be thrown over the side as bait for the murk. Mutts can hardly control themselves; I won't have one killing us all because it's trapped on a boat in the middle of the ocean." Shaking his head at the privilege of the wealthy, he waves us off. 

"Of course. No wolves," I tell him and sigh as we walk away. I tuck the paperwork back into my sleeve. "That was horrible. I'm sorry. Are you okay?" Marcus says nothing, staring straight ahead as he kneels for me to climb back onto my horse. "That bad, huh?"

"I thought you said no racism? We have the power to free those men, and we are going to do nothing. Feels like this whole war was a waste if we're not going to use the decree to free the slaves." 

"Marcus, we can't fight this whole city on our own. We have to think of ourselves for once. When the book is gone, we can enforce this new law more seriously, but we need these men to take us where we need to go." I know he's angry; I'm furious with myself, too. But we didn't have time for that right now. "I don't know what else to do; we can't save everyone. Things take time, we'll have to wait to meet with the Mayor, perhaps he can help enforce in a peaceful way.." 

We were the main targets of anyone this war had upset. Much as we would like to think it was over, it was just beginning for some, and the backlash would be harsh if the entire city turned. I'd seen enough guards wandering the streets to become suspicious of precisely what town this was posing as. A fishing town surely wouldn't need so many soldiers.

Marcus shakes his head at me; I feel the smoldering heat emanating from him again as he rubs his temple, seeming to struggle with himself. "You get to tell Randy. Good luck."

I didn't think of that.

 When we arrive, there's a crowd gathered around the table in front of our inn. Penelope stands among the crowd, her arms crossed as she paces with frustration that I find familiar. "I thought you said he was good at this." She snaps as we join her; Marcus leaves to return our horses to the stables.

"At what?" I grumble, shuddering at the thought of being alone with the Spanish man tonight.

We can see that Verando is seated with an older man, and between them is a chessboard. 

"He sucks. He's lost twice, we're on attempt 3, and it's on the rocks." She exclaims. This caught me off guard; I hadn't expected a loss, let alone two. Marcus is back almost as quickly as he leaves, pushing past us to make his way to his friend.

"I hope you're not calling in some muscle to win you this game. No cheating. Your friend here has lost all your money; I told him he didn't stand a chance." The older mortal boasts as if hoping this would somehow start a fight. 

Verando reclines in his chair, quietly grinding his teeth as he ponders. 

"He's got you on the ropes..." Marcus snickers, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"What can I say? I'm rusty; it's been some time since I've played chess." Verando shrugs, seemingly unbothered despite his body language.

"At least it's only two coins," I mumble to Penelope, who grimaces as if she had terrible news for me. "How many coins was it?"

"Almost all of them.. we.. um-"

Before I can fathom what I'd been told, I hear a sound of disapproval from the crowd as Verando claims checkmate. With the proclamation of beginner's luck from his scorned opponent, he'd effectively won back a sizeable bet against his placed coins.

"Double or nothing if you're certain it was luck." Verando challenges casually.

Among the crowd's laughter and his opponent's boasting, the next game proceeds much quicker, and I begin to understand the strategy behind the gray-haired man's game. "How interesting. It would appear you have lost again." Verando muses, taking a cigarette offered by Marcus and lighting it, content as a cat with its cream. 

"I think your big friend is helping you cheat!" The man scowls as he hands over his payment, narrowing his eyes towards Marcus. "Triple or nothing." The man snaps. "Get your beast of a friend away; I find that you're cheating-" 

Verando considers this, gesturing to Marcus to return to us. "I don't think that's fair to you. I don't want to take all your money."

"You won't take another cent! You'll play me again, dog, lest you want the authorities finding out a lycan thief is roaming the streets." He snaps, smacking his fist on the table. 

Verando smiles warmly, nodding his head. "Of course, sir."

Without mercy, the chess match is over as quickly as it started. Cold and calculated, it was a preferred pass time for the warlord, as he took no prisoners. Collecting the money bag before his opponent could snatch it, he tosses it to Marcus. "Here. I might get murdered later. I am just a lowly lycan, and these rats are about as honest as you can imagine."

"Big talk coming from a damn dog. Where is your master?" The man spits on the ground, standing with his fists clenched. "Who lets a damned lycan off his leash? I'll have your hands cleaved for this!"

The hair on my neck stands up, and I quickly storm up to intercede before we have a dead mortal on our hands. I place my hand on his chest and slip in between the two. Verando snarls, low in his throat as his teeth flash, and I elbow him in the stomach as subtly as I can to push him backward.

"He's a free man by order of Lord Haryek. All lycans are soon to be free men; you'd do well to remember your manners, or it'll be you who answers to the police. You lost the wager; let's all be fair when placing bets on street corners. Last I checked, it wasn't legal to gamble without a license in the first place." 

"It'll be a cold day in hell before I see lycans free on these streets. Big talk from a forgotten Prince; that's who you are, right? Prince Nicolas, the last remaining son after these beasts slaughtered your family. I'm not afraid of a runt like you. Look around, you're outnumbered." Gesturing to the uncertain crowd, he sniffs and shrugs his shoulders. "Haryek's a traitor; you're a fool if you think he's got support in this territory."

The war was fresh in everyone's minds; it shouldn't surprise me that tensions were high. "Haryek, ruler of the elf nation, would be interested to hear your opinions, considering I highly doubt you have a Crown Passport in this region as a mortal man. Haryek, who now rules your government with the full support of the court, would love to know you were trespassing unless you'd like to provide that passport to me?"

The man swallows, taking a small step back as he considers his chances of success. 

"Haryek, who is good friends to this gentleman you insulted, who is here on his honeymoon. So maybe I'll tell him that the town of Novadari is nothing but low-class swindlers praying on tourists." I command, keeping my voice even as my heart pounds. I could only hope that I was intimidating enough that he wouldn't question me.

 Penelope takes my cue, going over to wrap her arm around Verando. It wasn't precisely the same couple I had pictured when I'd said he was on his honeymoon. What had I been expecting? That I could claim him for myself? She takes the wind out of my sails and clings to him proudly. 

As the crowd gets spooked, the man takes stock of us and quickly disperses. "My apologies, Prince of Dezna." Disgusted, he wrinkles his nose with a half-hearted bow.

"Move on, then," Verando says lowly, the threat heavy in his tone as the aged man storms off. Once he'd disappeared, I could finally breathe a sigh of relief.  "Honeymoon?"

"Oh yeah. You're married to Pen if anyone asks." Marcus retorts, chipper as ever.