a/n Here's a sketch @SearchingAstronaut made of Dev and Princess Morrow :D

The Holy Empire of Odrana was known for its disdain for creatures that were once integral to the fabric of Odranic society. Half a century passed and the divide between humans and these creatures split into a chasm wider than any mountain valley, any oceanic trench, or even the forehead of Devesh Odrasi's boss.

Dev Odrasi—an orphan of rural roots, an admirer of the art of hunting, and a member of the imperial guard—was an avid fan of this divide. Before her time, and before the time of many young folk, mankind ran with the wolves, sharing their food and their lust for blood. As civilization grew from these feral roots, the only blood they craved was that of their ancestors.

The eradication of what they once were: descendants of the hellhounds, disciples of chaos, and otherwise colloquially known as werewolves. And now, they were hunters.

Dev was a hunter.

On occasion.

One didn't exactly have free time for leisurely hunts in the imperial guard, nor could werewolves be simply hunted. Such beasts were felled not by one man, but by many, and as a sport it was a dangerous one few were equipped to partake in.

For someone as drawn to the hunt as Devesh Odrasi was, the most appropriate course of action would be to join the imperial guard, which was precisely what she did. Her Emperor was known for his wildly successful, ostentatious hunts that took him from coast to coast across his empire. It was a dream to any hunter worth their word to join the Emperor on such a journey.

Despite joining the imperial guard nearly five years prior, the Emperor had no plans to embark on such a quest. His hunts and haunts remained local.
In the imperial city, wolves were tough to come by. Those that were found traveled in packs, and while a dozen men could fell a wolf, it would take an army to take down a pack.

Said army could be found under the command of the Grand General Alberos, who is "the General" to us, "sir" to his underlings such as Dev, and "Al" to his mother. The General was a member of Emperor Dharos' prestigious inner circle, but despite this profound ranking, the General was not invited to the Emperor's birthday party.

Much to Dev's chagrin, she was invited. There were perks to being a member of the Emperor's knighthood, and for Dev, it all had to do with hunting.

Another facet, of course, had to do with the fact her Emperor had a daughter that Dev was simply smitten with.

The full name of the Emperor's daughter would be too long to articulate without sacrificing another 99 characters, but luckily, she is better known as Princess Morrow Dharos. Rumors and facts both agree that Princess Morrow was the sole reason the Emperor's travels brought him back to the imperial city where he has remained for almost two decades. She was his pride and joy, and an honor to serve and protect as an imperial knight and guard.

Granted, Dev was only ever given the privilege of speaking with her amongst prying eyes which consisted of two sets: Princess Morrow's guard otherwise known as Dev's old training comrade, Tove; and her lady-in-waiting and the defender of Princess Morrow's honor and dignity, Zoyla Croft.

For the first time, though, Tove's eyes weren't prying. In fact, they were very much closed and unconscious all thanks to the disaster of the Emperor's birthday party that brought them all here: to the infirmary tent.

The circumstances weren't ideal for an actual conversation to be held between Devesh Odrasi and the princess of the Holy Empire of Odrana, given the fact that the Emperor himself was in attendance after performing the heroic act of carrying Tove's wounded body from beyond the camp where they had all been stationed in a hunting party south of the border.

"How could you let this happen?" Princess Morrow's voice was frayed beyond any thread Dev had heard before, and it stung Dev like a personal attack.

Dev dropped her gaze, ashamed and watching as her comrades shuffled out of the corner of her eye, debating whether to go. They hadn't been dismissed, and in the silence, not one of them could be certain that dismissal was what the Emperor intended. To have made such a scene in saving his daughter's personal guard—to end that heroism here would be anticlimactic at best.

The Emperor took a deep calculated breath, culminating in what was sure to be an elegant and reassuring response that would blow them all away.

Instead, the Grand General caught up to them in the exact moment the Emperor said, "My—"

"You—!" came the indignant snarl from the infirmary threshold.

It took them from dawn until dusk to arrive at the border hunting camp, and the same could be said for the Grand General, who was mucked with sweat and dirt from racing on horseback. Given their own arrival time, the Grand General must have discovered the Emperor's birthday plans no more than two hours after they left.

Emperor Dharos pinched the bridge of his nose as the tent flap snapped shut with the sound of a whip on the wind. "Alberos, now isn't the time..."

"Now is precisely the time where I tell you I told you goddamn so," the General seethed, his forehead crinkled in such a way that gave a convincing impression of a landslide falling between his bushy brows.

At the Emperor's tense, awkward, and guilty silence, the General turned to scan his eyes over the damage done by what was intended to be the Emperor's first kill. The wolf that had injured the princess' beloved personal guard, that is.

The fact that the princess was there at all nearly slipped the General's attention—nearly. He caught the pleading look on Princess Morrow's face, like a child caught in a game of hide and seek by her parents and begging not to be seen lest her friends find her.

The General sucked in his reservations about that particular blunder.

"The scouts missed the fact that there were two in the meadow," the Emperor explained, dully. As the heroism dampened into nothing, the rest of them became human-sized flies on the wall. "All of you. Out. Our comrade will be fine—enjoy the festivities."

"I'm staying," Princess Morrow insisted as the guards fled to the entrance. "And if you plan on yelling, do so elsewhere. You'll disturb her."

"Well, if she's in a coma, I doubt this chat will even phase her," the General said, to which the Emperor said, "She's not in a coma! Look at her—"

Dev, being the last to go, offered an unhelpful defense: "Truthfully, I can't tell the difference between sleep and a coma."

"Cormaic," the General snarled.

"Apologies, sir."

"Just—Leave."

Out at the camp, the festivities were still in motion thanks to the conglomerate of political figures the Emperor had invited. Thanks to nepotism, some were family, but others were adjacent to the Dharos household by longstanding council holders, financial institutions, and religious affiliations.

The hunting of werewolves, after all, was a uniquely religious affair. After the plague that blocked the ability to shift, society became strictly human. New generations were born, and from them, few wolves. Unable to tame or raise these beasts from the Pit, parents lost their lives to their own children on full moons.

The Culling surged. An infanticide—all out of panic. A generation buried.

Then the late Emperor Dharos stepped in. The plague was still in all of them, and if their wolfish counterparts were blocked because of it, then they could save their future children by blocking it in them as well.

Above Dev, the waxing moon was nearly at its peak. As the moon filled each day, so too did the hellhounds' bloodthurst. By the end of the week a full moon would be upon them, but by then the Emperor reassured them all that they'd return to the imperial city. It was just a quick hunt before hunting became too dangerous, even with the plethora of game out in the wild under a full moon. It was the plethora that made it dangerous.

As much as it annoyed Dev to be hindered by the General's general buzzkill, Tove was proof that the General's concerns were well founded. To the General, the Emperor still acted like the reckless officer he once was, traveling from coast-to-coast.

As the Emperor and the General left the infirmary tent, the General's scolding reached Dev's ears. "—You've jeopardized the safety of your daughter with this. And so close to the full moon, no less!"

Dev watched them disappear around the corner. Behind her, a bonfire crackled, and ahead of her, the shadows of the party stretched back toward the infirmary's now-open flap.

The princess' hand reached across the bedding to grasp Tove's bandaged wrist. Tove's sprained wrist was just the cherry on top of a shattered fibula and cracked tibia after the beast dropped from its hind legs directly onto Tove's leg. The crunch echoed in Dev's ears as she doubled back to the infirmary.

She lifted the flap a touch higher to accommodate her height. Her shadow darkened the bed, drawing the princess' eyes up with a glare.
Princess Morrow's eyes softened. "Oh. It's just you," she sighed, leaning back in her chair.

Dev shuffled just next to the opening, hands behind her back. When the princess rose an eyebrow at her, Dev cleared her throat, swelled up her chest, and declared, "I'm confident that Tove and I could have taken that wolf had I known it was there. That was an oversight on my part, so I apologize."

Such a statement as overconfident as that in a situation such as this would have been rude to anyone else. Princess Morrow had witnessed firsthand how Dev and Tove talked as old training partners, and it came as a relief to know that Tove's comrade cared so much.

Princess Morrow stifled a laugh behind her hand before feigning sincerity. "I'm sure you could have."

"Thanks to your father's generosity, I've had the pleasure of facing many beasts in the past. It learned its lesson this time."

Princess Morrow ducked her head, her smile simmering. She bit her lip. "I know. Thank you. I'm sure Tove's leg appreciates being avenged."

"She will be on her feet in no time," she reassured, stepping close to the opposite end of the bed. There, the firelight from the bonfire could glow on Princess Morrow's face. Dev studied Tove's pallid complexion. "She's as strong and stubborn as any one of us, you know."

Princess Morrow agreed. Together, they watched Tove's tender breath rise and fall.

The princess looked up. "You're a good man, Devesh. I hope you know that."

To anyone who truly knew Devesh Odrasi, one might assume she had just been misgendered. Luckily, no one truly knew Devesh Odrasi, all except for the unconscious spectator to this conversation. It was for this reason that Dev usually never cared when people referred to her as a man—in fact, it was all confirmation that her plan was working, and that no one would recognize her from her past life as a weak, scared orphan.
It would have been challenging, if not impossible for Dev to secure knighthood as an orphan.

Though she appreciated being referred to as a man, she wished Princess Morrow knew her more than all the rest.

Dev swallowed against the urge to say anything rash that might expose her true identity. Now wasn't the time or place to confess such things.

"Your word means everything to me, princess. Thank you."

In the broader scope of ruling classes in worlds adjacent to theirs, one might assume Princess Morrow was the single most sought after woman in all of the Holy Empire. Princess Morrow's responsibility required studious pursuits, such as the sciences, the arts, and the theology of their common era. Princess Morrow was well versed in it all, along with the strategic adeptness required to best every and all colonels, generals, and court people at the game of grimdroid.

Her appearance, however, was most revered by the eligible bachelors in her court circle. One could see her influence in the most recent trend of growing one's hair long—both men and women alike—and twisting it into bonnets at night to keep the curls fresh in the morning. Princess Morrow's dark, elegant curls fell far beyond the back of her chair where she sit now, reaching a hand to pat the bed across from her.

"Please. Sit with me," she said, and given all this Dev knew about her, she'd be a fool to decline.

Dev sat with flushed cheeks like she was a kid again trying her hand at friendship for the first time. It never went well in the past, and she learned early that friendship was often an accident. Tove was the first friendly accident Dev had made, and it cost them both.

Tove's leg was bandaged and cast in a hardened salve after having been painfully reset by the physician. It would be a long recovery—one that left Princess Morrow's protection up to the whims of whoever the Emperor and the General decided was fit to fill the gap.

"I imagine Emperor Dharos will assign someone just as capable to be your guard," Dev said, stiffly.

"I imagine so," she agreed, the hint lost in a dejected sigh.

Dev cleared her throat. "I suppose there are... many capable people in his ranks. He only recruits the best from the academy."

The princess blinked down at the bed. When she looked up, Dev straightened her back a little. "You and Tove studied together at the academy, right?"

"We were the top of our class. I was number one, of course." After all, only the best and the brightest could be considered for defending the Emperor's honor from his side.

The realization that Dev was in the running for Tove's replacement brought a smile to Princess Morrow's face. It was as much acknowledgement as she could give before the tent flap was pulled aside, and the General made his grand entrance.

One look from the General dashed any and all hope the two had.

"Cormaic, with me," the General said, jabbing a thumb out the entrance.

Dev jumped to her feet at the command of her pseudonym and scattered, only stopping to glance back at the princess from the threshold. The General grabbed her by the front of her chestplate, though, and hauled her off and out of view with a shove.

Out of earshot, the General cursed a vicious yet hushed, "Honestly, Cormaic. Who gave you the bright idea you could openly moon at the princess like that? I could have you shipped off to Hale!"

Dev screwed her face up in protest, but dampened the look the second the General faced her. Hale Gerter was the most foul person anyone on this side of Odrana had the displeasure of meeting, because meeting Hale Gerter meant that a person had done something so horrific they wound up bound and chained in a cell on a frigid tundra prison block. As an early graduate from the academy, Dev's first station was at the prison, and she never wanted to go back. It was an internship straight from the Pit itself—both literally and figuratively.

The General sucked in a sharp, petulant breath. He looked away with a bit of a stomp, which implied that his chat with the Emperor hadn't gone to plan. Any chat with the Emperor rarely went to plan.

"If I catch any sound of any one of your toes stepping out of line—" the General started, and such a threat could only precede an opportunity of a lifetime.

A smile split across Dev's face.

The General thumped her in the forehead, no doubt leaving a mark. "Don't give me that look," he snarled.

Dev resisted the urge to cup a hand over her forehead as she teetered back to balance.

"I won't let you down, sir."

"You don't even know your station yet."

"I'm the only one outside the princess' guard detail that knows Tove's entire schedule and the Emperor thinks I'm cool."

"Where in the world did you hear that?"

"Last month during the banquet."

It took a second for the General to recall the day Dev played the fiddle after being challenged by one of the courtiers.

"He—He called you insane, which isn't exactly a synonym for cool."

It was all semantics Dev didn't care for. All that mattered now was that the Emperor had acknowledged her, trusted her, and granted her the privilege of protecting his daughter.

Dev brandished her fists in the air, beaming. "You won't regret this, sir."

The General grumbled something incoherently annoyed before stomping off with an unimpressed, "I'm sure I will, boy. Now get back to work."

Being the princess' guard would be tough work, and Dev would surely be under scrutiny in the coming weeks. While it wasn't the private affair Dev had hoped for to be closer to Princess Morrow, it was certainly a start. And with the full moon approaching...

Dev shot into a heroic, glowing pose as trumpets from the festivities sounded in the distance. The full moon would be the perfect setting, as each member of the imperial family was kept under lock and key to guard them from the potential dangers the beasts brought. It would be Dev and Princess Morrow, alone, for the first time ever.

On the full moon, Dev would confess her feelings and change the course of history: that much was certain.

a/n HELLO. I will update every Friday starting... NOW.
Also I changed my username one last time. At this rate no one's gonna recognize me ☠️ o well