"My father, he knows where we are." Once the words left Dahlia's lips, there was no going back. Timothée stood up abruptly, his entire figure was shaking.

"How do you know this?" His voice trembled at the thought of her father's men marching on their camp.

"This was given to me at breakfast." Dahlia reached across the table and placed the parchment down. One end of the wax seal was still attached. In the minimal light brought by the scattered candles, anyone could see that it was from the King. Upon seeing it, Timothée sucked in a breath. He snatched it and proceeded to pace back and forth. He was muttering the words with a harsh tone. Then, in an instant, Timothée stopped and turned to the open flap of the tent.

"Adrian!" He called out to his friend, who was guarding just outside. Adrian walked in and waited silently for a command.

"What did he look like?" Timothée directed his question to Dahlia.

"Pardon?" Dahlia was confused. His nostrils flared.

"The man who gave you this letter. What did he look like?" With each passing second, Timothée grew more impatient.

"He must have been a few years older than me. He was very skinny and had long blond hair. His bone structure was rather sharp. A little daunting, I guess. He was dirty too. Like he's been working in fields or maybe the stables." Dahlia confessed. Timothée turned to Adrian and they shared a look.

"Gather every man in this camp with that description. Send a group of men to the edge of the forest outside the entrance of the camp. Take them hostage. Bring all of them to the training ground." Adrian nodded and set off on his mission, calling many other men to help him. When his friend was out of sight, Timothée sat in a chair and ran his hands down his face.

"Why do you torture me so?" The question wasn't directed to Dahlia, rather it seemed to be directed to some sort of divine being. His face pointed up like he was trying to communicate with their Gods. An hour of silence passed over them. Both were unwilling to communicate about the threat that lays in their very wake.  Adrian walks in, a serious look painted across his features. No words needed to be expressed for the severity of their situations.

He leads Timothée and Dahlia to the training grounds. Though the night was pitch black, the moonlight and torches provided some assistance. Dahlia saw a line of about twenty men on their knees. They all shared the same characteristics that she described. It was then that they spent many minutes dragging them one by one to Dahlia and Timothée's feet. When a new man was brought towards them, Timothée would ask the same droning question.

"Is this the man?" Simple and curt, but very repetitive. Dahlia would reply with the same word.

"No."

It wasn't until one man was dragged up that Dahlia knew. It was him. Her face wavered and her mouth opened a little in shock. Timothée already knew the answer. He could read her expression. He just had to wait for confirmation. Swallowing back her pride, Dahlia muttered two little words.

"That's him." At this, the man was pulled onto his feet by two guards. Timothée gave them a nod and the man was dragged away pleading for mercy.

"What's going to happen to him?" Dahlia turned to Timothée. He didn't respond but rather marched away. Adrian and Timothée's other headmen followed behind them. Dahlia stayed in the field while the crowd of people that came to watch slowly walked away. One by one they left and Dahlia stood alone. She slowly made her way back to the tent. Dahlia walked into Timothée, Adrian, and two other men standing around a large table. Maps were strewn about with figures representing Timothée's army and her fathers. 

"We need to act now." One man stated a grim expression on his face. His dirty blonde hair moved to the shaking of his head. Noticing Dahlia's presence, all the men stopped what they were doing and turned to her. Timothée marched up to her and put a gentle hand on her forearm. He tried to lead her away, but she held her ground.

"You shouldn't be here," Timothée stated. 

"I can help." Dahlia would have defended herself more, but Timothée was having none of it. 

"No, you cannot. Go check on Nicholas." He tried to drive her away from the sudden meeting he and his advisors were having. 

"Let the lady speak, Tim." The dirty blond-haired man interrupted their quarrel. The way he addressed Timothée, Dahlia assumed that they were very close friends. Even Adrian wasn't granted the permission to call Timothée that. Dahlia was released from his hold and walked forward, her hands resting gently at the edge of the table.  She scanned everything and realized that they were trying to find a good place to relocate. Timothée stepped forward and decided to introduce the men. 

"Over there is Kian," The man sent her a small bow of his head in respect. He had bright red hair that went to his shoulders. Freckles splattered his face like specks of paint. Though he was wearing thick layers of plated metal, Dahlia could still see the prominent muscles he had. 

"That is Armie." Timothée gestured to the dirty blond-haired man that defended her just minutes ago. He gave her a small smile and a nod. "You already know Adrian." Adrian winked at Dahlia, causing her to blush. Timothée let out a cough to gain their attention.

"We're currently trying to hatch a plan. We need to move before your father's troops come. There's just one problem. There are no more places to hide." Timothée expressed his concern for the people in his camp. Dahlia glanced over the bored again. Throughout her training, while she was growing up, she learned about every castle, town, ruin, and stronghold that her father held reign over. Every detail about the land stuck to her brain. 

"There," She pointed at a stronghold not far from the camp, "That's Islegold. It is very fortified and can withstand many sieges. That's somewhere we can go." The men listened to her words carefully. 

"If it's as strong as you describe, there is no way we can take it fast enough," Kian spoke while scratching his chin.

"That's where you're wrong. After my mother died, my father pulled in a lot of his troops for the countrywide mourning period. He left only a few hundred men there. My father got lazy and forgot to send them back. It's weak with very little people to fortify it. With this stronghold, you can block attacks from the north. It was one of the places I wanted to fix when I was training to be Queen." Timothée and his friends were both pleased and surprised by her answer. 

"How many men are guarding it?" Armie questioned. 

"I'd say nine-hundred. Maybe a thousand. How many men do you have?" Dahlia turned to Timothée. He was already staring at her, a faraway look on his face. 

"There's a little over a thousand fighting men here," Timothée announced. They all grew silent. Their small army had the same numbers. The Kingsmen still had the upper hand. The stronghold made a huge difference. 

"That's too much of a risk." Kian looked at them while voicing his opinion. 

"What other choice do we have?" Dahlia's voice sounded desperate, "This is an opportunity here. Not just to find a new place to reside, but to gain something in this revolution." Her eyes looked between each of the four men. 

"If we march straight on and meet them in the field of battle we could do it. Leave a group of about two-hundred men to sneak into the stronghold and barricade the doors. That way the men can't retreat. They're surrounded." Timothée carefully chose his words, a strategy coming to mind. His friends nodded along. Dahlia decided that she should get some rest and retreated to the next room over. She fell asleep to the mutters of Timothée and his men planning out the details of their attack.

____________

The next morning, Dahlia woke to the outside noises of people bustling around. People were shouting random things. She could hear blacksmiths hitting steal and getting swords prepared. Dahlia knew there was no delaying it. The battle was happening today. Whether or not they win is a whole different train of thought that she pushed out of her mind.

Dahlia got up and put on a small baby blue dress. She gently swept her hair into a braid that hung over her right shoulder. When she walked out to the main room, she didn't see Timothée at the table. Dahlia left the tent and saw many people walking around and getting prepared. The men were leaving to fight while the woman and children tore down the tents, preparing them to be moved. Dahlia walked to the large training ground and spotted Timothée, Adrian, and Armie. They were all suited up and had their horses ready. Dahlia marched up to them.

"Good morning, Dahlia." Armie turned to her. She smiled and said the same thing back.

"Good luck." Dahlia turned to Timothée. He had a confident expression on his face. Dahlia assumed that he had to cover up his worry since he was the leader. He needed to be more than brave. He needs to be fearless.

"We will hopefully return soon, My Lady," Timothée responded. Dahlia was confused as to why he was being so formal when they agreed to call each other by their names. She chalked it up to his nerves and bid them goodbye. As she made it a few feet away from them, Nicholas ran up to her.

"Dahlia!" He jumped up in her arms, "Do you think Timmy will win?" His naive innocence made Dahlia inwardly cringe.

"We can hope." She didn't want to give him empty promises. It isn't right. As she was comforting Nicholas, he wrapped his little arms around her neck and his legs around her torso.

Timothée jumped onto his horse. He adjusted the reins and scanned the camp, his eyes naturally watching Dahlia. He saw her laughing with Nicholas and a small smile made its way on his face. His heart thumped and it wasn't just from the impending battle.

"You ready to go, lover boy?" Armie teased him. Timothée turned to his friends on their horses. Looking behind them, he sees all the men lined up row on row, ready to go marching. Most were walking, some had the advantage of horses.

"Don't call me that." Timothée snapped back. Armie, Kian, and Adrian started to laugh.

"You can't possibly deny your attraction towards Lady Dahlia," Kian announced to the group of men. Adrian nodded along with him.

"Lady Dahlia is a good source of information. She can give us insight into her father and his army. She's a valuable asset." Timothée rushed out an answer.

"A valuable asset? You're so dense you can't even acknowledge your feelings." Adrian laughed. 

"Men, It's time we focus on what matters. Marching to Islegold and taking it from the King." Timothée tried to sway the conversation away from him and Dahlia.

"Whatever you say," Armie starts, "Loverboy." He jokes before riding to the head of the army; Adrian and Kian following. Timothée would usually get angry or come up with a comeback but all he did was look back towards Dahlia and smile. She looks away from Nicholas to Timothée and sends him a toothy grin. Timothée nods and tugs for his horse to start moving. The nerves of battle washed away. The only thing left in him was a determination to win. Not just for his people, but for that smile.