Chapter Text
“Have you heard much about the young prince of Fanelia?” Princess Millerna Aston asked Knight Allen Schezar as they walked through the palace to the audience for the Fanelian envoy. It was a sunny morning in Asturia, and the royal guards they passed stood a little straighter in the presence of Asturia’s youngest princess, and one of their newest but respected members of the Knights Caeli. Both Millerna and Allen looked regal and like they’d walked out of a storybook in their ceremonial robes: Millerna in one of her finer dresses covered in trim, with her long blonde hair floating behind her, and Allen in his bright blue knight’s garb, with his longsword at his side.
Allen smiled at Millerna and said, “No more than you have, Princess. He is nineteen years old, respected and beloved by his people, devoted to his brother, and a swordsman trained by the famous Balgus Ganesha, who was my sword master for a time, as well.” Allen idly brushed back a wayward stand of blonde hair in his bangs as he remembered those days with some fondness, and plenty of regret. Back when he’d been an angrier and directionless young man who took it out on the world around him, wishing someone would finally save him the trouble of ending his own life. And then a grumpy old soldier had taught him a lesson or two about that. But it felt like lifetimes since then. Allen hadn’t stayed in contact with Balgus, but with negotiations for a potential marriage of Princess Eries of Asturia to Prince Van of Fanelia, Allen hoped that perhaps he and Balgus could rekindle their friendship.
Certainly being the prince’s guide during his stay in Asturia might help with that. Allen couldn’t say he was necessarily looking forward to being a tour guide for a doubtless spoiled prince, but he was going to approach it with his best effort. It was the main reason he was accompanying Millerna for the envoy’s arrival. She was walking far too close to him, as she always was, and trying to get closer, but he kept a careful distance, discreetly, and refused to make their walking together more flirtatious than it was.
Millerna’s eyes widened in surprise. “I didn’t know you had the same sword master, Allen! You never said anything!” Her right hand rested in the air right over his left arm without touching him, and then she pulled it back, grinning, as if nothing had happened.
Allen kept his courteous smile. At eighteen, Millerna was precocious, and still intent on marrying him someday, for some ridiculous reason. He wasn’t sure why, given she had far better options. And Allen supposed he was being ungracious to both of them. He’d served Princess Marlene for a time before she left to get married, and also helped guard Millerna. They were definitely both spoiled, but smart, too. Their only weaknesses, for some reason, seemed to be Allen.
Allen shrugged, playing along that nothing had happened. “I didn’t expect it to interest you’re Your Majesty. It was a long time ago, and I was a different man.” A wounded, angry young man, uncaring for his life or other people. And now he was here, where he could better get resources to find his sister Celena, who’d been missing for years. He tried not to think too much about when he’d last spoken to Hitomi, another Knight Caeli and one of his closest friends, who’d gone to travel the kingdom and promised to check for any signs she could find. She hadn’t been back in some weeks, or sent any word. Allen wasn’t worried about her exactly, she could handle herself fine, but he was anxious for any new she might have.
“You so rarely speak of your past,” Millerna said with a bright smile. “I really am curious, though!”
Allen only smiled back and gestured for Millerna to enter the throne room ahead of him as the guards held the doors open. Allen was trained by now in not answering all her questions, but her insistence on courting him was making that more difficult. He found her sweet and one of the smartest people he knew, and he hoped to see her become one of the best doctors in the realm someday. But he didn’t exactly hope to be by her side in the doing in any other capacity than as a guard. Besides his lack of interest, it just wasn’t his place.
King Grava Aston, a large man with a thin blonde mustache and dressed in voluminous blue robes, leaned back on his throne, looking bored.
Eries stood by her father’s throne, looking tall and severe with her long, silvery-blonde hair and blue-violet eyes, and an expression that looked more solemn than anything else most of the time. Allen wasn’t close to Eries the way he was to Millerna, or the way he’d been with Marlene before her marriage to Duke Mahad dal Freid, when Allen made a series of mistakes he thought he’d spend the rest of his life paying for, though Marlene insisted he wasn’t to blame, and Eries hadn’t formally confronted him over it. Eries was commanding in a way her sisters weren’t and was clearly prepared to take over the throne when her father passed or stepped down. From what Allen knew of her, he trusted she’d have everything in hand. And he looked forward to serving her as well as he did her father, so long as she didn’t remove him from his position entirely over the situation with Marlene.
If only we can get through the marriage negotiations anyway, Allen thought as he watched Millerna lightly chatter with her family. Millerna turned to smile and wave him over.
Allen smiled and walked over. He knew he was a fool for not simply agreeing to Millerna’s wishes: anyone would be happy to marry a princess, after all, and it would mean his position in the palace rested less on the opinion of Eries. But Allen hadn’t come to Asturia for fame and didn’t love Millerna that way anyway. Millerna didn’t really love him anyway: she loved the idea of a handsome knight ready to take her off her feet, and he wasn’t that. He hoped she’d find someone else to occupy her. Someone who was worthy of her. Not a pathetic knight of no name who couldn’t even locate his own sister.
Allen took his place at the bottom of the dais and faced the entryway as the Fanelian envoy was announced and led in. Allen had been briefed about the prince and Fanelia and had memorized some information about their customs. He planned to be properly polite to them. He would certainly not possibly be the reason this endeavor fell apart, if he could help it. He was also simply a knight and would not be directly involved in negotiations. His job was simply to make sure everyone was safe, answer any of the prince’s questions… and to look official and professional before their visitors.
I’ll be generous, he thought as the Fanelian knights walked forward. Marlene and Millerna are both kind. There’s no reason this Prince Van won’t be.
When Allen caught sight of who he assumed was the prince, he was a bit surprised: reports stated that King Folken Fanel was a tall man with something of an intimidating presence. But Prince Van, at the center of the Fanelian entourage, was a tad on the short and thinner side, and had tan skin and short dark hair that had clearly escaped any attempt to tame it, though he was still rather handsome in his princely, shiny armor. His expression was a cross between somewhat neutral but also ready to fight, with his shining brown eyes. He carried himself like a swordsman, a callback to his training under Balgus. And the longsword on his back looked like it wasn’t just for show.
Van stepped forward and bowed before Grava’s throne. “Your Majesty. I’m honored to meet you and take part in ongoing negotiations.”
Grava smiled down at the prince, “We are honored to have you visit us, Prince Van. We hope your visit may signal a swift conclusion to the ongoing negotiations, in a way that is pleasing for both our kingdoms.”
Van bowed again. “Fanelia also wishes for this. I am at Asturia’s disposal.”
Grava nodded. “Formal negotiations will begin in a few days’ time, while you and your group settle into your rooms. We trust you will join us at dinner this evening?”
“I would be honored, Your Majesty,” Van said with a warm smile.
Grava gestured to his right, where Allen stood, and said, “One of our knights, Allen Schezar, will be your guide while you’re here.”
Allen bowed his head when Van looked his way. Grava’s reasoning for the appointment was that he was unsure of what to make of this prince, who had never visited Asturia. Even King Folken had once stopped by, albeit briefly, after his coronation. Matters between Asturia and Fanelia had been peaceful for some years, and they had no reason to doubt Van, but keeping an eye on him wasn’t a terrible idea, and Allen had demonstrated ability to take down even the fiercest of Asturia’s foes. Though it was a bit unusual to assign a Knight Caeli to a visiting prince: surely Van would take offense for being placed under such powerful guard? Unless he simply took it as an honor.
But Allen did as he was ordered and smiled at Van, who met his gaze with some uncertainty. “I am honored to be your guide, Your Majesty.” He wouldn’t screw this one up. He hoped.
“Putting a Knight Caeli in charge of my stay here isn’t exactly what I’d consider a subtle gesture,” Van said after he’d inspected his chambers in Asturia’s palace. He’d been quiet and respectful as Allen led him to the rooms, and Van’s servants checked the rooms over. The rooms were palatial guest quarters, as suited a visiting prince.
Allen stood by the wall of the room nearest the door, studying everyone thoughtfully. Van’s guards were curious but respectful and kept watch outside. Allen didn’t think his placement was exactly a subtle gesture either, and it was good to know that Van was wise enough to notice something so obvious. It boded well for a future prince of Asturia, who wouldn’t just take things in stride. Though Allen wondered if he should take Van coming to the point about it as some kind of threat. Allen attempted to be as diplomatic as he could about it, and said, “I imagine it is possibly less hostile than it might seem, Your Majesty. His Majesty simply wishes to demonstrate his conviction for the negotiations.”
“By giving me a babysitter?” Van asked, meeting Allen’s gaze. There was challenge there, but nothing truly dangerous.
“By offering a guide who can take you wherever you wish,” Allen replied, still smiling. He’d dealt with worse foes than a foreign prince. And realistically speaking, it’s not as if Van would know where he was going without a guide. “Princess Eries will guide you for part of your visit, still, and when her duties as heir keep her occupied, I can help you in her absence.”
Van grinned in a way that was oddly charming. “That’s a polite way of saying, “Don’t take it so hard.” Are all Asturians as well-spoken as you, even when talking about babysitting?”
Allen shrugged. “It depends on the person, I think, Your Majesty. You’ll find well-spoken people most everywhere.” It was hopefully a good sign that Van wasn’t being overtly hostile about it. He was a bit pushy, though. Was he testing Allen? And why?
Van grin widened, and it was oddly… sweet, despite the possible barbs. Not like the sharper nobles Allen was used to, or the spoiled prince Allen expected. More like the mercenaries he’d once fought beside, who’d worked with him through thick and thin, who had no room for prevarication, and went for honesty instead. The look suited Van. Up close, the prince was still quite handsome, if still young. But he was only a couple years younger than Allen. If he had something to prove, it made sense.
Allen felt his own lips morphing into a proper smile in response. Allen hoped he wasn’t screwing this all up. One wrong word and things could turn to disaster…
“Good,” Van said. “It’s nice to know that.” He looked around the room again.
Allen was well trained enough that he didn’t sigh in relief. For now, no diplomatic crisis. But he also had curiosity of his own, and he’d been set on asking this beforehand. “Pardon me, Your Majesty, but may I ask a question?”
Van looked back at him in surprise. “Of course.”
“I heard that both you and your elder brother trained under the acclaimed warrior, Balgus Ganesha, and that he currently serves in your brother’s court. Is that true?”
Van grin brightened. “Yes! He’s been my sword master since I was little!”
Allen smiled. “Then it is even more of an honor to serve as your guide, Your Majesty. I trained under Balgus for a time when I was younger, too.” Allen had told Grava some of this in private, so as not to alarm him about a connection between the Fanelians and one of his Knights Caeli. And Grava had noted it might be useful in gaining Fanelia’s trust.
Van’s eyes widened in what Allen believed was true wonder. It was rather charming, and Allen reminded himself to keep his guard up, even if he was a bit taken by the newcomer prince. “I’ve heard some tales of Balgus’ travels, but never enough! Please, would you tell me stories? Or…” Van grew nervous. “I don’t know how long I’ll be here, but I don’t want to go slack on my training. Would you… perhaps?” Van bowed his head. “Apologies, I got excited. You’ll doubtless have other duties to take care of.”
“I am here at Your Majesty’s pleasure,” Allen said, firmly. “What would you ask of me?”
Van smiled nervously at him. “I could use a sparring partner while I’m here. And since you’re a little older than me, and more experienced with sword-fighting, perhaps… you might help me train?”
Allen smiled widely. “It would be my honor, Your Majesty.” Perhaps this really wouldn't be so bad after all.