"Caused it? I'm fairly certain he was the one who killed Aengus, though I've never been able to figure out how," Torran said, jaw clenching and fists tightening. "I tried to warn Aelga against trusting his words too much, but she's known him since she was a child. She saw him help her father do much good during his reign, so it is hard for her to accept all the signs that he is more on Yseult's side than ours."

"He's the one pushing for her to accept the peace offering, which is so very obviously stacked in favor of Glastonbex. Any ruler would be a fool to accept under such terms."

Torran looked out toward the battlements, where the soldiers paced back and forth on their rounds. For a few moments, he wouldn't speak, and Idelle wondered if she had overstepped her bounds.

Finally, he turned back toward her. "Much like Yseult's people would grow restless if she stopped the war, the Wynherst people would lose faith in Aelga if she keeps the war running for even more years to come. Aengus was promising to end his father's war and bring peace once again, and Aelga will be expected to fulfill that promise," Torran said. "She has pressure on all sides, even after being just crowned, to end the war one way or another. Of course, we'd all rather it be in our favor, but there are some who, like Reynard, are pushing for peace even if that peace looks more like surrender than anything else."

"She can't give in to Glastonbex," Idelle said, panic rising in her chest. "Once magic is allowed into Wynherst, it will never leave. It will spread and soon Wynherst will be just as filled with magic as Glastonbex."

Torran gnawed on his bottom lip, his eyes averted. "Sometimes I wonder if magic really is all that terrible, for us to fight for so long against it. Is magic the next step in industry? Should we just give in to it?"

Idelle laughed, bitter and short. "Do you know what happens to a country when it's taken over by magic? Anyone who bred with the magic-wielders have magic-wielding children, and those children are now gods among men. What can a magicless man do when a youth who can bend fire demands he hand over his daughter and money? Nothing. Those with magic use it to rob and scam and torture and steal. They neglect their duties in favor of getting money quick by using their powers for evil. There aren't enough workers to farm or work in the towns, and the fields overgrow and the towns go to waste. Those without magic are forced to work, and those with magic set their eyes on new towns, new power. They never are satisfied, and they always seek more and more and more." She shook her head. "You don't want Wynherst to turn into that. Once the people have magic, it changes them. They shouldn't be allowed that kind of power, when they always show themselves unable to handle it without turning into murderers and thieves."

Torran, face a bit white, cleared his throat. "Not everyone would do that. Not everyone is evil."

Idelle's hand crept to her sword, not because she feared Torran, but because she feared the stench of magic crawling in through the borders and feeding on the castle itself. "Enough are."

Torran nodded. "I'll keep fighting for Aelga to not accept Yseult," he said. "But Reynard is convincing, and she knows her father used to trust him."

"Can we not expose him for killing King Aengus? Send him away?"

"We don't have evidence, and no one on the council will listen to me if I accuse him. Unfortunately, being in the line of succession puts many doubts on your motives."

"We'll have to gather evidence, then," Idelle said. "If we can connect him to Aengus' death, Aelga will listen to us."

Torran patted her arm, a soldierly gesture but one that put a bit of warmth into her cheeks. "Thank you, Idelle," he said. "I feel better knowing that I have at least one other person on my side."

###

The next day, Torran found Idelle in her room and made her follow him to some mystery location. He wouldn't say a word about where it was or what they would do there, only that she should wear her tunic and trousers, and bring her sword. She'd thought perhaps it might be related to food, but as they walked away from the castle and into the town, her hopes faded on that front. They passed multiple inns and bakeries and stalls, with not even a pause, and soon they were approaching another fence, this one made out of logs bigger around than Idelle. Torran passed through the archway without any challenge from the two men guarding it, and they saluted lazily, as if they were used to his presence.

Inside, the ground was packed down in a circular pattern, and surrounded by racks of weapons, armor, and practice mannequins. Behind it, a long building lay pushed up against the wall, and a group of men and women stood by the entrance. They were dressed in the loose and easy clothes of soldiers, and when they saw Torran and Idelle approaching, their stances grew tense and guarded.

"Queen's Guard, gather up," Torran shouted, waving his hand at the group. They reluctantly pushed away from the wall and trudged up, looking like a group of students forced to study on a nice day. Torran, ignoring their blank faces and heavy sighs, turned and threw an arm around Idelle's shoulders. "I've found you a captain, as fresh as the rest of you! Her name is Idelle, and she had the unfortunate luck of saving my sorry hide out in the battlefield."

An older man, his brown mustache and hair shooting through with steely gray, was the only one to chuckle at Torran's joke. He, by far, was the most relaxed, holding a large crossbow by resting one end on the ground and leaning against the other with his arms crossed at the wrists.

"Your Grace, you've brought us a little sapling," an woman said, her voice almost as hard as the muscles that bulked her figure past anything Idelle had ever seen on a woman before. Idelle immediately liked her, even though the woman's hooded eyes bored into Idelle with the intensity of a shopkeep warning a pickpocket to stay away.

Torran smiled and rolled his eyes. "Well, Sabena, you were in the private army of a baron not a week ago, so you've hardly got a foot to rest on." He patted Idelle's back like a farmer showing off a questionable horse. "She's spent over a year in the front lines and showed her ability to lead and manage. Most importantly, she can be trusted. Unless you'd like for me to find someone under a noble's payroll?"

The woman frowned, but to her credit she shook her head. "We'll take the sapling," she said, rolling her massive shoulders and looking over Torran's shoulder at the training grounds. "Are we free to start our practice now? You caught us during a break that was already growing too long."

Torran shrugged and looked at Idelle, and it took her a moment to realize that he was waiting for her to make the call. She'd been so used to him taking charge, that now that it was in her lap, she struggled to even think of words, much less make a decision. She spluttered a bit before nodding and croaking out something in the affirmative.

The group split up, heading to the training grounds and picking up weapons as they went. They fell into familiar drills, practicing with their preferred weapons, and Idelle spotted the muscular woman swinging a great ax toward a practice dummy with enough force that it accidentally sliced through the entire thing.

"I feel sick," Idelle said, gripping her stomach while looking at the men and women old enough to be her parents and yet expecting her to take over.

"Don't be," Torran said, his voice soft. "It's scary now, but you'll get used to it soon. You've got the skills inside you, you just need to learn the courage to speak up and trust your own decisions."

Idelle glanced at him. "Is that what happened to you?"

Torran nodded. "Becoming the duke was not smooth sailing until I realized that no one else was going to take my place. I just decided to trust myself, and that was it. It gets easier after."

"Except that I do have someone else coming to take my place," Idelle said. "Sir Hewe."

Torran nodded, looking upset but not angry. "True. But in the meanwhile, it would be nice if you could put in your best effort."

A silence stretched between them as Idelle stared at her new men and women. The Queen's Guard. It was obvious they were elite fighters, skilled in all their specific disciplines and a few more besides. It was a small group, but a deadly one.

Idelle's eyes kept tracking over to the muscular woman, Sabena, whose gray hair was tied back with a leather chord and who was barking at an unfortunate soul who had clumsily knocked over the dummies that Sabena had been using.

"Why can't she take over?" Idelle asked. "I think they'd all respect her more, and she obviously has no problem taking charge."

"She was also a member of a private army. Her former employer was friends with Reynard, once upon a time, and though he claims to no longer support him, I don't want to take any risks when it comes to my cousin."

Idelle ran a hand down her braid, staring at the men and women she was expected to lead. Though she wanted to help Aelga and Torran, and her curiosity was stoked by the mystery of King Aengus' death, she also longed for the anonymity of the trenches. Going about her day without anyone asking where she was or what she was doing had been one of the very few highlights of being a soldier. Now, she was under close watch from all ends, and would only become more and more a subject of interest as time went on. She didn't want that kind of attention, and she could only hope Sir Hewe would be returning soon.