My heels clicked with every throbbing step, although it wasn't as painful as when I first wore them at the palace. From way back, I imagine Rosette wouldn't be the type to gather this much audacity. All she ever wanted was to get out of this century before the day of the Revolution. All she ever wanted was to complete her tasks and disregard unnecessary feelings.

Now, however...

What the heck am I doing?

I fear that one day, I'll become less of a Briar Rosette and more of a Khaleesi Dulcina. That one day, I'll become too attached to this timeline and would think about actually staying here for good.

I do not know what to do by then.

With a deep breath, I entered the Training Field despite the evening sky looming above the Kingdom of Grand. Torches are lit and their flames flickered with the wind. I couldn't make out of any knights wandering around the proximity.

The only sound I could hear was the fast flight of arrows finding their mark.

"Jacob..." I exclaimed to myself, moving forward.

Third Person's POV

His soldiers were supposed to continue their drill, but the High Constable made them leave early. He craved for some time alone, for some time to cool his head and relax his muscles. His body was aching but the emotional drive was much worse. Acting upon instinct, he picked up Parcival.

You're just a coward pretending to be all high and mighty! But I am fully aware, Jacob! I am fully aware that you, you are just scared like the coward you were back then!

The resonance of his brother's voice cascaded from his memories.

"Tch, stop playing Mister-Know-It-All." Prince Jacob grumbled, his mouth forming a duck-like pout.

Another batch of sorrowful recollection flowed as if it begged to never be forgotten.

His flashback of the incident was blurry, but he could still vividly recall how frightened he was as he trembled behind his younger brother Nathaniel, how the ceilings crashed and burned, how their favorite piano got devoured in the heated blaze, how their mother dashed towards the sealed off gates.

All of you, stay here. I'll be back soon. That was what she said.

Alas, she never did.

He wanted to go after her, to be as courageous as Vante, to prove that he wasn't a mere weakling, to be of help, even if it was just for that moment.

But his feet remained planted on the damp soil.

If only he were a bit braver, maybe their mother would've had a chance to live. If only he were a bit stronger, maybe things would've been different.

That was what he regretted the most.

Which is why he forced himself to change. He doesn't plan on making the same mistakes ever again.

He had to control fear, or else fear would control him.

The third prince of Grand closed his eyes, felt the tugging string of his weapon—

And shot the center point.

Flashback

"Welcome to the Selection!"

"I am pleased to glorify each and every one of you with these gifts," the Captain of the Guards, Sir Parcival, announced in his proudest voice, "The weapons are meant to honor you since you seven have passed the basics of your training, and as such, they were crafted with extreme delicacy from precious resources by the best blacksmiths of various kingdoms."

At the middle of the Great Hall awaited a long table with an assortment of weaponry. Some of the princes stood there, staring at a certain item that captivated their interest. Some, however, didn't bother looking.

"Do we all need to pick?" Prince Nathaniel James groaned, his focus never leaving the last chapter of his book, "I prefer not wielding anything."

This made the Captain frown. "It is also for your own safety. I won't always be here to protect you, young sirs."

His statement had their hearts sink, for he was right.

Although still visibly wanting to protest, the prince chose to keep mum and slackly walked over to the long table. Without checking what he grabbed, he went on his way and commenced where he left off on his literature. They could only gawk at his bewildering display of decisions.

"Ahem, well, it seems that the crossbow has been taken." Sir Parcival informed, pretending to clear his throat. "Who would like to select next?"

A noble adolescent with gratified stature stepped forward, his charming features were attentive to a particular side. "I believe they will follow after me, so I must do it first."

He swiftly gripped onto the weapon with the greatest length.

The Captain smiled, approval shining in his oval orbs. "The Heir to the Throne picking a dignified lance... Not a bad concept."

Prince Eugene Brancen chuckled, "You think so?"

"It's not an ordinary wooden lance. Take off the handle at the other end." Sir Parcival grinned in excitement, gesturing to the tip.

The prince couldn't hide his bemusement after he did, because soon he faced a sharp point that unmistakably belonged to that of a spear. The rest of his brothers regarded it with the utmost respect.

"Ah, that reminds me," the Captain added, shifting his direction to the twins, "His Majesty wishes to let me do the honors of presenting you both the weapons forged in divine fire especially for you."

"The favorite son of the King and the other of the Queen," Prince Nathaniel spoke up from the leather couch behind them, his book already finished, "not a surprise."

"Nathaniel." His eldest brother cautioned.

Aware of the situation but couldn't do much about it, Sir Parcival released a sad sigh before taking a small treasure chest and offering the said object to the two siblings. He then opened it, showing a duo of lustrous knives wrapped in royal velvet encrusted in contradicting gemstones. One had the color of deep nightfall. Another had the color of fresh blood.

"Those sacred stones came directly from King Eldred's crown." Sir Parcival told them in an indecipherable tone. "You may now choose."

It was as if there was no question of doubt necessary for them. Almost in complete synchronization, the twins picked their own knives without any fight for the other. It was proof that they were, indeed, different.

Prince Tayden Pharrell gazed into the ruby crystals, seeing his reflection from within. The weapon suited him, for he moved silent and deadly, like a snake crawling upon sighting its prey. The knife definitely symbolized him, but he wasn't sure if he liked that fact about him.

His twin, Prince Vante Osburne, poles apart with his character, had a dissimilar reaction. He stared down at the sapphire nugget in disdain, holding it like it was needed to be thrown away.

"Please accept my shallow apology for I am certain that I will be a disappointment to father," the sixth-born began, handing it out to the quiet fifth beside him, "nonetheless, I refuse his weapon."

The Captain of the Guards was baffled. "But Your Highness—"

"Agustus can have it. He prefers knives as well." The persistent prince went on.

"How quaint," Prince Agustus Dane joined in, calmly approaching the scene with his hands in his pockets, "I have to thank you for the proposal but blue is not an ideal of mine."

A hint of sarcasm was evident with the way he spoke, but Prince Vante simply ignored it, not fretting himself over the second's intimidating stance. He was about to respond when he was purposely cut off.

"I'm taking this one." Prince Agustus proclaimed with a casual swing of a narrow black dagger, its ebony edge glinting under the large chandelier. Due to the detail that he pulled the weapon out of his pocket, the Captain's mouth was left agape.

The boy nonchalantly hopped off the dais, sauntering back to the side of the room.

"Then let Tayden have both." Prince Vante said at last, eyes closed as he heaved an apathetic breath. "I already decided on a weapon."

His twin brother watched him once he clutched onto the handle of an elegant silver blade, the manner of how he manipulated it indicated that it was fairly light compared to the other swords in general. Prince Vante immediately felt a connection. "This."

Witnessing his role model proceed with the selection process, the shy seventh, Prince Jacque Darryl, strode across the tiles and daringly chose a diverse sword too. It was heavier than his older brother's, but the imposing knightly appearance fascinated him. It was a Falchion sword, golden-plated and beautifully created.

That did not go exactly as planned. Sir Parcival thought to himself. A little later, he then shook his head and remained natural with the proceedings. "Okay! Last but not least?"

"M-Me..."

A timid hand was raised. Everyone rotated to see Prince Jacob Erhart advance closer to the long table.

The Captain greeted him with a warm smile. "Feel free to pick, young sir."

A battle axe, a mace of an ashen boulder, a pair of batons, a uniquely-shaped halberd, a war hammer, a spikey flail with antediluvian chains—none of these were something he would preferably use in a field full of enemies.

Yet at that second, his eyes landed on an item.

Something that doesn't require him to get close to enemies. Something good for offense and defense.

A longbow.

"I choose this one." Prince Jacob uttered.

"Ah, a cowardly weapon for a cowardly prince." Prince Nathaniel teased, a playful smirk on his face as he rolled out his silver tongue.

The eldest frowned. "Nathaniel, I warned you."

Silence filled the Great Hall as the third-born gradually turned his head to his brother's direction, his murky orbs shaded by nothing but a stern gleam.

"I'll prove you wrong."

The fourth's smile dropped.

Sir Parcival beamed and ruffled the boy's hair, delighted with his response. "It seems that you are ready for battle, Jacob."

That's when Prince Jacob realized...

He changed.

The review of memories dissipated as soon as Prince Jacob Erhart heard a soft rustle of leaves from behind him. Quickly, he prepared his aim.

"Don't shoot," a maiden's voice gently expressed, "it's just me."

Khaleesi Dulcina Ermengard emerged amongst the bushes, moonlight caressing the delicate features of her face. She looked pristine under the evening clouds, the skirt of her peach-hued dress swimming across the meadow.

Almost in an instant, his speedy frustration slowed.

"Rosette," he sighed, setting his weapon down, "what are you doing out here? It's late."

"The same question I ought to ask you," she imitated his motion, becoming conscious that she had been carrying her bow and arrow with her the whole journey, "I simply wanted a fresh scent of the night air."

He failed to hide his smile as he observed her spread her arms and twirl on the grassy lanes. Fireflies sprang from the thickets, reminding him of fragile stars twinkling upon dark heavens. She had, literally, shed light in his life.

"Beautiful..." Prince Jacob released an astounded breath.

"The fireflies?" she giggled, spinning further.

Not noticing a rock beneath her feet, the lady fell backward. Although, she didn't feel her body crunch against the ground. Instead, she settled onto his chest, for the prince hurriedly caught her in his arms. Fireflies continued to hover around them.

They exchanged startled looks, eyes reflecting each other.

"No, you." He uttered.

Flustered, she abruptly detached her figure from his, whipping her focus towards something else. "I-Isn't it getting quite hot? Must be the t-torches..."

Crap. I stuttered. She internally screamed.

The goddess of fortune must be fond of her tonight, for Prince Jacob only replied with a gentle chuckle.

"You remind me of myself back when I was younger, of when I was still naïve to the world's cruelty." He said, soon sitting on the field.

Like an automatic response, she followed him right after, carefully folding the lacy ends of her clothing. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Of course it is—"

Jacob, mother loves how you look at the world. It is positive and wonderful. He suddenly remembered Queen Isabella say, the sensation of her hands trailing along his hair could be vaguely felt. He remembered the sight of her wiping away her tears. When mother is sad, your innocent smile brightens up my day.

He couldn't bring himself to speak.

You are my son. She once told him. You are my hope and my healer.

Prince Jacob forced to bite back his tears. He doesn't allow himself to be weak.

But he instantaneously melted under the maiden's gaze.

"Rosette, I changed," he murmured with a shaky pitch, "Do you think my mother would miss the Jacob from ten years ago?"

She didn't expect such an inquiry, but she then smiled as she gave him her answer. "Yes."

There was only silence. A peaceful kind.

"Jacob," she voiced out, wanting to comfort him, but she didn't know how.

At that moment, a firefly came out of nowhere and chose to perch on the bridge of her nose. The prince perceived this and burst out laughing.

"You didn't tell me that your nose would glow." He snorted loudly, an act he never thought of doing in the past decade.

The perplexed lady could only blink at him in surprise. But then again, she made him laugh, and that was all that mattered.

Both individuals let out the merriment they held back all their life, enjoying the time given to them, enjoying this beautiful moment they had always sought for.

Rosette's POV

After managing to ease the disturbances of Prince Jacob's heart, I then went onwards to where I believe the other prince would stay.

The abandoned library.

I shivered as I paced down the primeval corridor. The chilling wind was much colder here than it was back at the Training Field. I couldn't imagine what Prince Nathaniel would go through every time he visits this place.

Finally, I reached my destination. The door to the room was slightly ajar, so I took the opportunity to peek inside.

I froze.

There I witnessed Prince Nathaniel, playing a sorrowful piano piece using Queen Isabella's burnt ivory keys. My heart stilled when I realized it was the melody that constantly troubled me and my waking dreams.

He was crying.

A/N: Yay! Another chapter! It was supposed to be longer but we didn't want to make you guys wait for another few days so here it is! We sincerely wish you liked it!

Also, thank you so much for the 9k reads and 400 follows! It is such a blessing to have you all in our lives <3 Stay safe always, loves.

Next chapter would be Nathaniel's side of the story entitled "The Silver Tongue"

*insert excited squealing* 

Nocturnal Armys