March 22, 1903

Vy'lwa was the most wondrous thing that Sakarus and Airel had ever seen. 

Towers of sturdy brick filled the lively city, and gold chains hung across every door and window. The paths were wide and well-maintained, and the Lessaenites had no trouble finding the fortress in the center of the city. 

If Vy'lwa was modern and orderly, Fort Voertstedd was something else. Its walls were covered in strange, intricate sculptures done in the peculiar style of the Rhenans, and Airel's eyes nearly bulged out of his skull at the sight of all the gold jewelry that adorned them. 

"Don't you Rhenans protect your wealth?" Airel asked the Shealander who led him to the front of the fort. 

"Pardon, sir?" 

"You just put your gold out there where anyone can take it?" 

"There is no need. On Rhena, there is trust." 

Something about the condescending way in which he said this made Airel want to punch him in the face. It was almost as if the Rhenan believed his kind to be morally superior!

The Royal family of the Shealands stood outside their fortress, decked out in full ceremonial garb and prepared to receive their guests. King Laddyn smiled warmly, and shook Airel's hand as he approached. 

"You must be King Airel of Lessaenes," he flashed a carefree, joyous grin. 

"That is I. I presume you are the King of the Shealands?" 

"Precisely. Come, there is much for you to see." 

Sakarus marveled at the architecture of the fort, and the intricacy of its decoration. He had truly never been in a building so finely artistic. 

As he eyed the deep, red wood of the floors and the stone carvings across the walls, he wondered if his family's palace would be as beautiful as Fort Voertstedd.

"Well, hello again, Prince Sakarus." 

Sakarus turned around to see the smiling Princess of the Shealands. She was even more stunning in the bright light, dressed in a brilliant, blue outfit. 

"Princess Shehallie," he nodded in acknowledgment, as they entered a great dining hall. The two Kings sat at the head at the table, with the Queens next to them, across from each other. Sakarus and Thaliana sat beside their mother, while Shehallie gracefully took her seat across from them. Another morose, sinister-looking Rhenan sat at the royal table, removed from everyone else by at least two chairs. 

Seeing Sakarus' questioning looks directed at the mysterious Shealander, Shehallie tapped his hand. 

"That is my uncle, Travais. He's not a very pleasant or sociable man," she said bluntly, not bothering to disguise her distrust of him. 

Sakarus didn't blame her. Travais looked like some sort of conspirator, sitting quietly with his bony hands folded and his hooked nose turned down, watching the rest of the royals with removed contempt.  

"I see," the young prince nodded, trying his hardest to ignore the foreboding presence of Travais Voertstedd. 

He talked to Shehallie for what felt like hours as their parents went on and on about politics. Both of them were equally curious about life on each other's planets, and Shehallie was especially interested in the process of conquering Lessaenes and parts of Kilaenas. 

The rich Rhenan food and drink also stimulated conversation. The servants brought in unending platters of exquisite meats and cheeses, accompanied by dozens of varieties of sauces, bread, and exotic fruits. 

Much to Sakarus' shock and disappointment, the Rhenan princess claimed to have never seen snow, or even frost! However, she seemed positively intrigued at Sakarus' description of falling snowflakes. Just when he had promised to take her to Glaisse in the winter, the Kings stood up and shook hands before leaving the table, signifying the end of the banquet. 

"I will see you tomorrow," Shehallie smiled warmly as she rose from the table, placing a dainty hand on Sakarus' shoulder before she skipped away. 

The prince was about to follow suit, but was stopped by another, much less friendly hand clamping down on the nape of his neck. He tensed up in confusion. He had thought he was the only one still in the banquet hall. 

"This isn't funny, Thaliana," he rolled his eyes at his sister's idea of a prank. However, when he turned around, the person he saw was not the little princess of Lessaenes. 

"P-Prince Travais?" he asked. Something about the expression on the Shealander King's younger brother's face chilled him to the bone. 

"Stay away from my niece," he hissed, producing a dagger from his coat and pressing it against Sakarus' neck. "I know how you are, you Lessaenites. Dirty little cheats." 

"I-I was only making conversation!" 

"I am only warning you. Shehallie is a very innocent, beautiful girl- difficult for a greedy Lessaenite to resist. And you seemed all too eager to interact with her tonight." 

"Please, I-" Sakarus was growing very uncomfortable as the blade pressed deeper and deeper into his skin. 

"I do not want you in her life! Understood?" 

"Y-yes." 

"Good," Travais snarled, releasing Sakarus. "You'd better return to your frozen ball of dirt soon. And don't come back!" 

When he was finally released, Sakarus walked out of the hall with his hands balled into fists. Travais had just challenged him, and he would accept the challenge. No one insulted the Lessaenite race and its prince without paying for it. 

Princess Shehallie, here I come.