I leaned on my right shoulder, watching the morning light spill across my earth mage. Aria lay on her back, the sheets barely covering her curves, her bronze skin showing her brown markings glowing in the soft sunlight. I traced a slow line across her chest, fingers brushing over the swell of her breast. A lazy smirk crept across her lips as her eyes fluttered open.

  “You’re bad,” she murmured.

  “Maybe,” I said, letting my hand trail lower, past her stomach and further still. “But we’re supposed to be at the training grounds in a couple of hours.”

  She didn’t answer with words. Instead, she parted her legs in silent invitation. I leaned down to kiss her, and she reached up, arms wrapping around my shoulders as she pulled me into her warmth.

  I opened the bedroom door after some time and stepped into the bright dining room to find everyone already at the table. Plates clinked, conversation hummed softly, and the smell of breakfast filled the air. Racheal stood just behind Seraphina, who sat calmly sipping tea and reading, her expression serene. I walked over and leaned down to place a gentle kiss on her cheek.

  “Good morning,” I said, pulling out the seat beside her.

  I began filling my plate, glancing across the spread: eggs, bread, fruit, and thin slices of seasoned meat. Just then, Aria emerged from the bedroom, now dressed in her formal brown Royal Mage robes, her long black hair pulled into a neat ponytail. Even in uniform, there was an ease to her movements, a quiet confidence. She caught my eye as she walked toward the table, the corner of her mouth lifting in a knowing smile, the memory of the morning still lingering behind her composed expression.

  I reached out with my free hand and placed it on Seraphina’s arm. She gave mine a gentle pat, then reached for her tea.

  “So, David, what’s on your schedule today?” she asked, sipping with practiced grace.

  “Let’s see… two more days of sword training. Today’s shields, tomorrow are two-handers. Allira and I still need to vet one more candidate for Theresa’s personal guard,” I said.

  “You found someone already?” Theresa’s voice rose from the far end of the table. She was poking at her food more than eating it.

  “Yes. A Captain Davies,” Allira answered, just before biting into her toast. “She’s talented. David has another possibility, but I want to see her in action today before we decide.”

  “Don’t I get any input?” Theresa asked, sounding more indignant than curious.

  “We’re selecting them based on combat ability, not… what was it you cared about? Cuteness?” Allira said, not even bothering to look up.

  “That’s rude. I used to have some say,” she pouted.

  “Did you have any say when I guarded you?” Veronica asked with a raised brow.

  “No,” Theresa muttered, pushing her food around again. “I didn’t. But, that was different…”

  “This is something your father required, Theresa,” I said, my tone soft but firm. “I’m just trying to make sure you’ve got the best at your back when we can’t be there. That’s all.”

  “Fine… so when do I get to meet these ‘protectors’ of mine?” she asked, adding a little flair to the word.

  “Tomorrow, after their two-handed sword training,” I replied. “We should probably treat them to a few rounds at the tavern, too. Build rapport.”

  “I like that idea,” Allira said with a nod.

  I looked across the table. “How about you, Aria? Any plans for today?”

  She smirked behind her teacup. “Do I get to watch our dear husband glisten in sweat while getting tossed around in the dirt?”

  “I’m not exactly stellar with a shield,” I said, mock-grimacing. “Depends on whether Allira needs me or not.”

  “At first, yes,” Allira said, not missing a beat. “Then you can have him. Once we get deep into shield drills, he’s just going to get in my way.”

  “That hurts my feelings…” I muttered, making a grab for the last slice of meat on her plate.

  Her fork intercepted mine with practiced ease. “Get your own,” she said sweetly. I looked at the empty platter in front of her. “Or get up earlier next time,” she added, taking a slow, deliberate bite from the slice, with an unnecessary flourish as her lips closed around it. I narrowed my eyes at her, amused.

  “Are you sure I’m still treating you to lunch today?” I asked, glancing down at the lonely piece of toast left on my plate.

  “Yes,” Seraphina said with a gentle smile. “Always, my dear.”

  “I know. Just let me pretend to protest for a second,” I said, feigning a sigh.

  “Sweetie,” Aria chimed in, swirling her tea with a lazy stir, “when are we heading back to Vaelthorn?”

  “Let’s see… two more training days, one council meeting with the King. So, three, maybe four days from now,” I said, doing a quick mental count.

  “That soon?” Veronica asked. “When can my parents come for dinner? You did invite them, David.”

  I glanced toward Seraphina, then back to Veronica. “How about two days from now? That’d be the same day as the council meeting.”

  Seraphina nodded. “That works for me.”

  “Perfect. I’ll let them know,” Veronica said, grabbing the untouched toast from in front of Theresa.

  “Hey! I was planning to eat that!” Theresa protested, her mouth half-full.

  “So am I,” Veronica replied nonchalantly, biting into it with zero remorse.

  “Veronica, are you going to see them today?” Seraphina asked.

  “Yes. I’ll let them know the time and ask what they’d like or not like on the menu. I can also pick up some things for tonight’s dinner.”

  “Aria,” I turned toward her, “since you brought it up, did you have something in mind for today?”

  “Yes, love,” she said, sipping the last of her tea. “I want to pick up a few things for Richard and Ben. Since you’re going to be their father now, you should help choose a few things too.”

  That stopped me. A father.

  “Right… yeah. Okay,” I said, blinking once. It landed harder than I expected.

  “You’ve got two, maybe three hours before I need you back at the training field,” Allira added, finishing the last bite of her toast.

  “Well, we’ll figure something out on the way to the combat grounds,” I said, rising and leaning over to kiss Seraphina on the cheek.

  Allira and Aria stood as well, gathering their things.

  “We’re off to the training grounds,” I said as we headed for the door. “Back later this afternoon.”

  _____________________

  The practice yard stretched before us as we stepped down from the carriage. A wide expanse of churned earth and standing puddles, the field had not yet recovered from last night’s rain. Hours of relentless drills had turned the mud into a patchwork of boot prints and trampled grit. The northern wall of the Mage Cathedral loomed just beyond, its pale stone casting a long, cool shadow across the grounds, keeping much of the yard damp and slick in the morning sun. The air carried the sharp, honest scent of wet earth, worn leather, and freshly oiled steel.

  Allira walked beside me, her uniform as sharp and commanding as ever. Even after our morning errands, she moved with her usual quiet authority, spine straight, steps measured, her presence unmistakable. Her black hair, though pulled back, had begun to loosen, a few strands fluttering around her face. She didn’t seem to mind. There was a calm confidence in her stride, the kind of grace born not of show but of mastery.

  On my other side, Aria held my hand as we approached. Her brown robe, edged with the traditional gold trim of a Royal Mage, flowed with each step, the fabric catching the light just enough to hint at the power behind the title. She moved with poise, regal without pretense, her midnight-black hair pulled into a neat ponytail that swayed in time with the gentle shift of her hips. Where Allira walked with the quiet strength of a commander, Aria moved like the royal mage she was: serene, unreadable, and completely in control.

  Trailing just behind, Allyson followed quietly. Her steps were soft but confident, her glowing eyes scanning every face, corner, and movement. She didn’t speak. She didn’t have to. She moved like a blade sheathed in patience, composed, precise, and always ready to act. My shadow, forever watching.

  Ahead, the yard pulsed with energy. Soldiers practiced drills in tight rotations, including parries, stances, and footwork resets, each motion reinforced through repetition and shouted commands from instructors pacing the lanes between them. Off to the right, a row of battered wooden dummies stood at attention, their surfaces hacked and dented from long-term use. To the left, sparring partners exchanged slow, deliberate blows, maintaining a steady rhythm heavy with focus. It was the kind of work that transformed technique into instinct.

  Near the center of the field, our group stood, twenty in total. Ten were on their feet in a ready line, and the other ten sat on a long stone bench behind them. Most straightened up the moment we appeared.

  “Which one do you think would be the best fit for the second guard?” Allira asked, her eyes tracking the soldiers moving through their warm-ups.

  “The one in the first row, third from the left,” I said, leaning slightly toward her. “When you run them through their paces, test her the same way as the others. I want your honest evaluation. You’re going to be their direct supervisor, so it has to be your call if she’s a match.”

  As we approached, the standing soldiers snapped to attention. Those seated stood swiftly, forming up with practiced discipline. I let the silence stretch for just a moment, long enough to let them feel it.

  “Good morning, again,” I said, stepping forward. “Looks like you all showed up, which tells me General Robertson didn’t push you hard enough yesterday. That changes today. We’re moving into shield training, her favorite, not mine.”

  A few groans and quiet laughter broke the tension.

  Allira stepped up beside me, resting one hand on a training sword she’d pulled from a nearby rack. Her expression was as unreadable as ever, her voice calm but firm.

  “This morning’s focus is the shield and sword. As the Earl said, I’ll be showing you more than just how to block. Shields aren’t only for defense; they’re weapons in the right hands. You’ll learn how to use them to control, counter, and strike.”

  She let that settle a moment, then barked her next order. “Everyone, grab a practice sword and shield from the racks. Line up in two rows. MOVE!”

  Behind us, Allyson took her place, silent, hands folded behind her back, ever the quiet sentinel.

  I scanned the group again. The sun had climbed higher, and the mud clung just enough to drag at every step. A perfect day for breaking bad habits and building better ones.

  Allira turned her head slightly toward me. “Now go. Get those boys something they’ll remember.”

  I smiled, gave her a brief hug, and turned to Aria and Allyson. With Allira already barking corrections and snapping soldiers into motion, the three of us left her to her work.

  _____________________

  Allira

  I watched the trainees work through their forms, line after line of steel and sweat. These were the next generation the General had selected for this training session. Not recruits. Not hopefuls. Soldiers with the potential to become something dangerous. Not all of them would.

  “MOVE, Lieutenant. Twenty more reps. The others are finished. MOVE.”

  The big man in the back gritted his teeth and lifted the blade again. He had strength. Too much of it, maybe. The kind that came from never being pushed hard enough. I’d fix that. Beside him, Captain Davies moved through the same sequence with controlled precision. Clean transitions. Proper angles. No wasted motion. Something about her tugged at my attention.

  David had named her as one of Theresa’s protectors, but that wasn’t why I watched her now. If she was going to stand near my family, I needed to know exactly what she was made of. Not what David believed. What she could do.

  Her technique was solid. Not inspired, but disciplined. The kind of soldier who followed the rules until she knew when to break them. She had a long way to go before mastery, but so did all of them. Davies’ brown hair was tied back in a single ponytail, swinging with each turn of her blade. She carried her weight well, grounded and balanced. When I glanced back at the lieutenant, his arms were trembling. Sweat poured down his face.

  “The Gods above,” I snapped, “if you can’t keep up here, how do you expect to survive a battlefield? GET. YOUR ASS. MOVING.” The flinch rippled through the line. Fear sharpened focus. I felt a flicker of grim satisfaction as their movements tightened.

  Off to the left, Lieutenants Woods and Burns trained in tandem. David had indicated that both were promising, Woods especially. The difference between them was obvious. Burns was the cleaner fighter, more polished. Woods was raw instinct. Her body moved efficiently, almost too fast for her technique. She rushed transitions, cutting her swings short and trusting momentum over control. It was a flaw. It was also a foundation.

  Davies had discipline. Woods had intuition. Together, they might cover each other’s weaknesses. Is that what he saw? I wondered. There were dungeons near Vaelthorn. Training grounds that punished mistakes harshly and honestly. If the gods were watching, and I had the uneasy sense that they were, those places would sort potential from pretense quickly.

  A heavy thud cut through the rhythm of steel. That lieutenant collapsed. “HEALERS!” I barked, pointing without looking. “Take care of that.” I turned back to the formation, letting the moment stretch.

  “ANYONE ELSE DECIDING TO TAKE A BREAK?”

  “No, General!” they shouted, voices tight, immediate. They resumed their drills, blades rising and falling with renewed urgency. I felt it then, faint but unmistakable. The pressure in the air. The sense of being measured.

  _____________________

  David

  The carriage came to a gentle stop at the edge of the Eldros market square, its wheels crunching against cobblestone still damp from the early morning rain. The square spread out before us in a patchwork of stone and sunlight, less crowded than Brakenreach’s tightly packed stalls but no less alive. Here, storefronts lined either side of the broad road, each one proudly displaying its trade with brightly painted signs swinging overhead, shoemakers, tailors, bookbinders, apothecaries, and jewelers, all nestled shoulder to shoulder beneath colorful awnings and flowered balconies.

  A few merchant stalls dotted the edges, their canopies faded but still vibrant, hawking small goods like ribbons, carved trinkets, and fresh herbs. People came and went through shop doors, arms full of wrapped parcels or baskets brimming with wares. The more affluent strolled past with a casual grace, their finely dressed servants trailing behind, burdened arms swinging as they carefully stepped around puddles and mud.

  A wagon rolled lazily down the center of the square, drawn by a pair of mottled brown horses. Whether it carried workers or goods was anyone’s guess; no one seemed in a rush. The pace here was unhurried, a quiet confidence in the rhythm of late morning commerce.

  The scent of hearthfire bread, roasted onions, and seared meat drifted on the breeze, pulled from nearby cafés and taverns finishing their late breakfast service. Somewhere, a lute played faintly, joined by the laughter of children running between stoops. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t crowded. But it was alive in a way only a well-fed city could be.

  “This reminds me of Paris,” I said, gazing down the broad street toward the heart of the market.

  “Paris?” Aria echoed, slipping her hand into mine. “I’m not familiar with that.”

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  “It’s a city from my homeland,” I explained, nodding toward the buildings. “I took my wife, Elizabeth, there once. We spent a week exploring shops and landmarks. It was her favorite trip.” I paused, the memory of her smile briefly washing over me like sunlight breaking through clouds.

  Aria looked up at me and gently nudged my arm with her shoulder. “Love… I’m sorry.” Her grin eased the heaviness of the moment.

  “You’re bad,” I said, managing a chuckle. “Actually, you’re all bad. So bad that I probably don’t deserve any of you.”

  “And yet, you’re stuck with us forever,” she replied playfully, reaching up to kiss me with a warmth that anchored me to the present.

  When she pulled back, I drew her into a quiet embrace. “Thank you,” I whispered.

  We kept walking along the edge of the street, glancing into shop windows and mentally noting the signs swinging above. Despite the variety, none of the stores had quite what we were searching for. It was Aria who spotted them first, a group of soldiers standing just off the main road, half in shade and half in sunlight. She headed toward them, her confidence clear.

  “Excuse me,” she said as she approached, voice polite but firm.

  One of them, older, clearly the ranking member, looked up from a small book or ledger. “Yes?” he replied, his tone guarded but respectful. As I stepped up beside Aria, I noticed the others stiffen, fingers tightening around their spears and polearms as they recognized her Royal Mage robes.

  “We,” Aria began again, this time more smoothly, “my husband and I are looking for a store that sells children’s items, specifically for boys. Could you point us in the right direction?”

  I was about to ask a question when the senior soldier beat me to it.

  “There are two options,” he said, his voice steady. “One’s right around that corner, called Sticks and Stones.” He pointed across the road and down a side street. “The other’s on the far side of the square. Treasures and Trinkets, if I remember right.”

  “What about The Dragon Dungeon, Sarge?” one of the younger polemen chimed in.

  The sergeant gave him a flat look. “That place’s been half-empty for weeks. Might still be worth a look, but I wouldn’t start there.”

  He turned back to Aria and offered a faint nod. “Try the first two. If they don’t have what you need, Dragon Dungeon might surprise you. Good luck.”

  We thanked them and headed off toward Sticks and Stones. I could still feel their eyes on us until we crossed to the far side of the street and disappeared into the flow of the market.

  The first storefront wasn’t hard to find. Sticks and Stones had its name painted in cheerful lettering above a wide window, with carved wooden animals and painted toy swords on display behind the glass.

  I held the door open for Aria, letting her glide in with her quiet grace, and Allyson followed silently, ever-watchful. I took a step, and my perception sharpened. There was danger nearby. My HUD didn’t show anything, but my hairs on my neck tingled. I have deep respect for Peter Parker and his spider sense. I finally stepped in last, the bell chiming softly overhead as the door shut behind me.

  The air inside the shop was warmer than I expected, carrying the scent of polished wood, parchment, and a faint trace of magical oils, something floral yet earthy, almost nostalgic. Shelves lined the walls and filled the center with rows of curiosities, soft toys, miniature weapons, puzzle boxes, and enchanted trinkets that gently buzzed or glowed with passive magic.

  It had been a long time since I’d been in a place like this. Too long. The kind of store where a father might bring his kids after a long day of errands or to celebrate a small victory, like a perfect score on an exam or a scraped knee survived without crying.

  But I wasn’t that kind of father. Not yet. I’d never even met Richard or Ben. All I had were names, their ages, and a sudden sense of responsibility that I hadn’t quite wrapped my head around.

  “Aria,” I said to her as she took a moment to take in everything. “What would your sons want? I’m sort of a loss here.”

  “Oh. Richard loves puzzles and for Ben.. Animals.”

  Across the aisle, Aria held up a toy crossbow and raised a curious brow. “Too soon?” she asked with a grin.

  I gave her a look. “Let’s save the ranged weapons for next year.”

  She smirked and continued wandering. The door chime dinged, and I looked up from the toy I was examining. It was a man, and judging by his attire, a fire mage. His red cloak concealed his features, but he had his hood down, revealing his weathered face with a few days’ growth of stubble. His unkempt hair was slicked back from his widow’s peak. He didn’t speak, only walk past us in a different aisle, but it was that look that I noticed. There was something, but I wasn’t sure of what.

  Allyson didn’t speak, but I knew she noticed the mage as he entered. She moved like a shadow between the shelves, pausing now and then to study something with that eerie, unreadable intensity she always carried. A puzzle cube. A stack of illustrated books. A boxed game with shifting symbols across the lid. She never touched anything, never commented, just cataloged.

  I passed a bin of ragged plush monsters, some stitched with extra arms, others with oversized teeth that wiggled when you shook them. I could picture the chaos two boys would unleash with these. Would Ben like the one that howled when squeezed? Would Richard prefer the silent ones, the kind you tucked under your arm at night?

  There was no way to know.

  I stopped in front of a shelf of books. Bright covers. Oversized lettering. The Goblin Who Stole the Moon, The Clockmaker’s Goblin, Bramble and the Storm. They reminded me of evenings with Elizabeth, curled up beside my boys as she read aloud in her calm, measured voice. I took one and flipped through the pages, my thumb brushing over a softly glowing illustration of a boy flying through a magical storm.

  I swallowed, the ache sharper than expected. This… was a second chance. Maybe not to start over, but to get it right in a new way.

  Behind me, Aria called gently, “Find anything good?”

  “Maybe,” I said, turning the book over in my hand. “Hard to say. It’s been ages since I bought toys for boys this age. It’s all guesswork.”

  She came beside me, watching as I picked up a small enchanted top that spun in midair. “That’s what makes it special,” she said softly. “You’re trying. That’ll matter more than the toys ever could.”

  I nodded, even as I placed the top into the growing basket. “Still,” I muttered, “let’s at least make sure they light up or roar or something.”

  She chuckled, and I let myself smile.

  We kept browsing. That mage just stayed a few aisles away, occasionally glancing up at us. Something felt off. But I had bigger questions to answer. I didn’t know the two boys’ favorite colors, what scared them, or what made them laugh. By the time we reached the front counter, I had collected a modest stash: three books, a pair of mechanical critters, two puzzle boxes, and a handful of enchanted knick-knacks. It wasn’t much, but it was thoughtful, and more importantly, it was a start. A quiet message that someone was thinking of them.

  “Oh, wait, there’s one more thing I want to get for Ben,” Aria said, then turned and vanished around the other side of the store.

  I turned to the older man behind the counter, who was already eying the pile with professional interest. “Excuse me,” I said quietly, keeping half an eye on where Aria had gone. “Is there a shop nearby that caters to… particular clothing? For women. For their husbands.”

  His face split into a knowing grin. “Ah, looking for a bit of spice, are you? You’ll want The Naughty Bits. It’s a few streets over, just past the copper fountain. Can’t miss the red sign.”

  I chuckled. “Sounds promising. Thanks for the tip.”

  He glanced down at the register, then back up just as Aria returned. “Looks like you’ll have fun.”

  I gave him a sidelong look and turned just as Aria placed a small wooden soldier atop the stack. “What are you two smiling about?” she asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

  “Oh, just talking about how lucky we are to have found all of this,” I said smoothly.

  She raised a brow. “You’re a terrible liar, love.”

  “Guilty,” I admitted, grinning as I helped her unload the last few items onto the counter.

  The shopkeeper rang everything up, and I paid without complaint, slipping him a generous tip as thanks for more than just the service. Everything disappeared into storage before we exited the shop to return to the training grounds.

  _____________________

  The three of us returned to the training grounds to find Allira still drilling the soldiers with the same focused intensity she always carried. Aria, Allyson, and I stood off to the side, quietly observing as the final exercises played out. Something still didn’t feel correct. I felt like we were still being watched, but by whom? When Allira finally spotted us, she called an end to the day’s training, and I watched a collective wave of relief wash over the group as tension melted from tired shoulders.

  Aria and I walked over to join her while she addressed the soldiers. Allira offered her final remarks, pointing out both the strengths and shortcomings she’d observed throughout the session. She was firm but fair, reminding them that in a real fight, their shield might be the last thing between them and death.

  “Tomorrow is our last day together,” she announced. “And we’ve saved the best for last, two-handed swords.” She gave me a glance that said I’d be earning my keep. “Earl Robertson will be leading tomorrow’s session and demonstrating the techniques.”

  A few tired groans answered her, but no one dared complain outright. They were exhausted.

  “Any questions before we wrap?” she asked.

  None came. Just blank stares and sweat-soaked silence.

  “If not, then you’re dismissed,” Allira said, turning to Aria and me. “The one you pointed out, sweetheart, I watched her closely today. She’s good, very good. Of all the candidates, she stands out. Her techniques would cover Davies weaknesses.”

  I nodded and looked past her to the cluster of soldiers at the equipment racks.

  “Captain Davies,” I called out.

  The captain flinched, caught off guard, but quickly composed herself and strode over with purpose. She saluted, and Allira returned it with a subtle nod.

  “Captain, I have a question,” I said, keeping my voice measured. “Since we still have one billet to fill, what are your thoughts on Lieutenant Woods or Lieutenant Burns?”

  She hesitated. Barely. But I caught the flicker in her eyes.

  “My lord, based strictly on combat proficiency, Lieutenant Burns is the stronger swordsman, Level 23. Lieutenant Woods is Level 22. Technically speaking, Burns has the edge.”

  I watched her a moment longer. “How long have you known Lieutenant Woods, Captain?”

  She blinked, then gave in with a quiet sigh. “We grew up on the same street. When she lost her parents, she moved in with my family.”

  “Do you trust her?” Aria asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. With my life,” Davies answered without hesitation. “She’s always had my back. I know I’m supposed to judge on merit, not sentiment, but if it were my choice, she’d be the one.”

  We stood together, watching the soldiers laugh and talk as they cleaned up. The training gear clattered onto the racks as the sun began its slow arc downward.

  “Captain,” I finally said, “there’s one detail we didn’t share yesterday. The position requires a sworn oath: nothing you see, hear, or experience while serving my family, including the Princess, can be shared outside those circles. Lieutenant Woods will also need to take the oath. If either of you can’t accept that, we’ll find others.”

  “I understand, sir,” she said, standing straighter. “I’ll speak with her, and we’ll be ready.”

  “Tomorrow, after training, we’ll finalize your transfers. Both of you will take the oath then,” I told her.

  “If there are any objections, speak them then,” Allira added.

  I reached into storage and pulled out a small pouch of coins, handing it to Captain Davies.

  “This is for proper uniforms. You’ll be guarding the Princess. Presentation matters.”

  She looked down at the pouch, then back up at me.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  She saluted again and jogged back toward the others.

  I turned to my wives. “Time to go?”

  They didn’t answer. They just each took an arm and led me toward the exit with quiet smiles.

  _____________________

  Captain Rebecca Davies

  I made my way to the equipment rack just as the last of the practice weapons were being returned. The exhaustion on everyone’s face was unmistakable. No one was joking about blowing off steam tonight, just talk of showers and food. I slotted my wooden shield into the final empty rack slot and joined the slow march back toward the barracks.

  “One more day,” someone muttered under their breath.

  “This is worse than basic,” another grumbled.

  Can’t argue with that. General Robertson was a relentless instructor. Her husband, the Earl, might be even worse. And now he was going to demonstrate two-handed sword technique tomorrow? May the Gods help us. I already wanted to collapse into bed.

  “Hey, Davies,” called a voice behind me. I didn’t even need to turn. That tone could only belong to Lieutenant Burns, ever hungry for gossip. “Who was that mage you were talking to?”

  “That was Royal Mage Robertson,” I replied, feeling the weight of the coin pouch still in my hand. “She was telling me about a new posting.”

  “How many wives does that guy have?” That was Sergeant Barrett, loud, flirtatious, and definitely not my type.

  “I heard the Princess is married to him, too,” Burns said. “That makes… what, at least three?”

  “Wait, what? Is the princess married to the Earl? That… would explain a lot.” I heard from another.

  “He mentioned she’ll be here tomorrow,” I said, keeping my tone casual.

  “What for?” a few voices asked in unison.

  “I’m not entirely sure. She’s supposed to start at the Academy soon; maybe it’s related?” I offered more speculation than fact.

  We reached the stairs to the third floor, my bunk. My legs felt like bricks on fire as I struggled up, each step a fight. I pushed open the door and began peeling out of my soaked uniform, glancing at myself in the mirror. Ugly bruises were already forming across my ribs and shoulders.

  “Damn,” I muttered, turning for a better look. “These are going to last.”

  “It’s because your breasts are too big,” Lydia said from behind, entering the room and peeling off her own gear. Her frame was lean, athletic, barely marked. “See? Nothing.”

  I tossed a pillow at her. “You’re impossible.”

  We both laughed and flopped onto our bunks.

  “I saw you talking to them after training,” Lydia said, her tone a little tense.

  “Yeah. The Earl’s other wife was there too. They’re an… interesting group.” I pulled the pouch from my gear and tossed it to her. “Looks like we’re going to be working for them.”

  She opened the pouch and gasped as a small fortune in gold coins spilled across the floor. “What the hell is this?”

  “Well,” I said, stretching, “We’ll need a few new uniforms. Guarding a princess apparently requires a bit more formality.”

  Her eyes snapped to mine. “Us?”

  “Yes. General Robertson picked you as the second for the position.”

  Lydia blinked. Then smirked. “So my talent finally got noticed.”

  “Please. If anything, it wasn’t your boobs,” I teased, squeezing mine together for emphasis. We both broke into laughter.

  “But… there’s one catch,” I said, sitting up and leaning forward. “We have to swear an oath. Everything we see, hear, and witness while guarding the Princess stays with the family. No exceptions.”

  Lydia frowned. “An oath? That sounds serious.”

  “It is. But if something threatens her safety, I doubt it would hold us back. We’ll get more details after training tomorrow.”

  “So… Becca,” Lydia said, pulling her legs up under herself on the bed, “what do you think of the Earl?”

  I hesitated, already feeling my cheeks warm. “Um… he seems our age,” I said. I kept picturing the way he smiled at his wives. It made him look younger. Softer. A little too easy to look at.

  Lydia grinned like she’d caught me. “Right? And he’s handsome. Stupid handsome. Those shoulders… and that voice? Gods.” She flopped back dramatically. “Why can’t we find guys like that?”

  I ducked my head, trying not to laugh. “Maybe in Vaelthorn,” I said softly. “We’ll be there for two years. Someone has to exist.”

  “I’m counting on it,” she said. “It’s been forever since I had a real guy. And men like him?” She let out a slow exhale. “They don’t show up where we grew up. Maybe we can finally find one for you.”

  I nodded, though I didn’t trust myself to add anything. She wasn’t wrong. I wanted someone steady. Someone kind. Someone who’d look at me the way the Earl looked at his wives. But saying that out loud felt… embarrassing.

  “When do you want to tell your parents?” Lydia asked, rolling onto her side to face me.

  “Tomorrow night,” I said. “After everything’s finalized.”

  She smiled, gently this time. “They’ll be proud of you, Becca.”

  I turned back and smiled. “I’m proud of us.”

  Then I stepped into the hall, letting the door fall shut behind me as I made my way to the showers.

  _____________________

  David

  "I asked the driver to stop at a storefront that I was told about," I said, peering out the window at the central market that we were passing through. "I need some better boots, and... we're here."

  The carriage came to a smooth stop along the quiet, cobblestone lane just off the busy central market. The storefront ahead shimmered with polished glass windows, framed by wrought iron filigree that curled like vines. A discreet wooden sign above the door read The Naughty Bits in delicate silver script, with a barely visible enchantment faintly pulsing along its edge, subtle enough not to attract street attention but clear to those who knew what to look for.

  I stepped down first, landing softly with a crunch of boots on gravel, then turned to offer my hand to Allira as she descended, her boots brushing the hem of her uniform. Aria followed, her smile confident, her amethyst eyes catching the shop’s sign before she even looked toward the display.

  The mannequins inside the window wore nothing modest. Lace, silk, and sheer fabrics in dark reds, icy silvers, and midnight blues hugged elegant forms that suggested mischief rather than utility. Corsets with boning resembling sword hilts, thigh-high stockings paired with garter belts, and robes that looked more suited for seduction than sleep.

  "This doesn't look like a cobbler, David," Allira said, looking up at the sign, slightly swinging in the wind.

  "They might have boots in the back..." Aria said, taking Allira's hand.

  I held the door open for both of them, watching with amusement as Allira shot me a sharp look that softened into a sly smile. She stepped inside first, the soft chime of enchanted crystal bells marking her entrance, followed by Aria, who leaned in and whispered as she passed, “You’ve started something now.”

  I slipped inside after them, feeling the sudden warmth of scented air, vanilla and spice, with a hint of floral notes. The shop’s interior was plush and dim, with velvet drapes, full-length mirrors, and racks of garments displayed like rare spell components. The proprietress, a dark-haired woman in flowing silk robes, looked up from her counter and offered a slow smile, half welcome, half appraisal.

  Both of my wives moved with intent. Allira leans toward darker tones, with military cuts and daring lines. Aria went directly to the lace.

  I followed at a respectful pace, hands behind my back, like a man inspecting siege engines at a military fair… only far more dangerous.

  “I swear, if I see feathers again…” Allira muttered, running her fingers along a black corset with silver thread embroidered in swirling patterns that could easily be mistaken for runes. The glint in her eye said she wasn’t entirely against the idea.

  “I still have those wings,” Aria replied sweetly, lifting a hanger with something sheer, pale violet, and almost entirely illegal in at least three kingdoms. “But I’d like to fly on my own terms this time.”

  “Do you two want privacy, or do you need an opinionated husband who’s already questioning how much he can actually handle?” I asked, watching them both begin selecting pieces with dangerous efficiency.

  Allira smirked and passed me a hanger with what looked like it had about three threads holding it together. “You’ll manage.”

  The shopkeeper finally approached, eyes twinkling behind a veil of professionalism. “Can I offer some assistance? Perhaps a private viewing room?” she asked, clearly amused at the way we carried ourselves, especially with me clearly out of my depth in the realm of silk and lace.

  “I think we’re fine for now,” Aria said, her tone friendly but distracted, flipping through a rack of robes that looked more decorative than functional. “Though I may need help finding something in deep green.”

  The woman inclined her head. “Of course. We just received a few pieces in emerald and obsidian silk. Quite… expressive.” She glided off toward the back, leaving the three of us in relative privacy.

  I took a seat on a velvet bench, angled just right to view the mirrors and the changing alcoves beyond the draped curtains.

  Aria quickly passed by me a moment later with two items, one seeming mostly like a suggestion, and kissed the top of my head before disappearing into a booth.

  Allira remained near the corsets, holding one up with critical eyes. “I still think half of this would be completely impractical in combat.”

  “Who said anything about combat?” I replied.

  She gave me a look that nearly peeled paint.

  “Allira,” I continued, hands folded, voice calm, “If you walk out of there with anything remotely tactical, you’re missing the point.”

  “I know the point,” she said, stepping behind a curtain of her own. “I just intend to make you beg for it.”

  From the dressing alcove, I heard Aria’s laugh, light, bright, and thoroughly wicked. “David, you might want to adjust your plans for the afternoon. Or cancel them entirely.”

  I leaned back slightly and sighed. “I knew bringing you two here was a mistake.”

  Another laugh came, this time from both booths.

  And I didn’t regret a thing.

  Allira stepped out first, holding up a long silk nightgown the color of storm clouds with thin silver accents tracing the hem and neckline. “This one’s… not for battle,” she said dryly, turning the hanger once on her finger. “But I could still take someone out wearing it.”

  “You’d knock me over before I even saw the blade,” I said, admiring her not just for the garment, but for the way she held herself. Her eyes flicked to mine, catching the meaning behind the words.

  She smirked. “As it should be.”

  Aria emerged next, barefoot and still adjusting the thin straps of something equal parts lace and temptation. Her expression was more thoughtful than provocative as she held up a different set, a deep emerald bralette paired with matching panties so soft they might as well have been made from moonlight.

  “What about this?” she asked, holding it up for my judgment.

  “I’m starting to think this store is a trap.”

  “Oh, it absolutely is,” Allira replied, slipping behind her curtain again with a flick of the nightgown’s hem. “And we just led you right into it.”

  Aria laughed, turning toward the mirror to hold up the green set against her. “It’s nice, but maybe not quite enough bite.”

  I stood and crossed the space between us, careful to keep my hands respectfully at my sides. “May I?”

  She handed the pieces over and watched my expression shift. I ran my fingers along the lining, noting the hidden stitching and subtle strength in the delicate seams.

  “It’s got more bite than you think,” I said, then glanced at her reflection. “Especially on you.”

  A faint blush warmed her cheeks, but she didn’t shy away. “Then we’ll add it to the collection.”

  Behind me, Allira made a soft noise of approval from her alcove. “I’m grabbing that black one. And the sheer one with the slit.”

  “The red lace set is coming home too,” Aria added. “Because I’m fairly certain it offended that older woman browsing near the gloves.”

  By the time we paid, well, I paid, because neither of them let me see the total, we were loaded with silk, mischief, and enough teasing glances to light a campfire.

  Outside, the city bustle returned, the late morning sun warm against the cobblestones. I held the door open for them again as they stepped out, the bags in their hands rustling like whispered promises.

  Aria leaned into my shoulder as we walked, her voice low and soft. “We’ll need your opinion on fit… later.”

  “And movement,” Allira added from the other side. “Some of these might need some close examination on your part.”

  I chuckled. “I think that all of us will have to come here again before we go back to Vaelthorn.”

  Their shared laughter rang out as we all climbed back into the carriage to return home.