They stood at two ends of a battlefield, smoke and ashes blowing across the bare field. Any life had long ago been stripped from this place, and even the crows who circled above looked haggard.

She watched her enemy carefully. Her fiancé, Logan Stall, the King of Coran, stood beside her, fully clad in his armor. He carried a long sword, gleaming in the meager amount of sunlight peeking through the dark clouds approaching. The wind was cold, and she shivered in her simple dress. He had told her she would be a key prescence in the fight ahead. She was the sign that peace was possible. But it wasn’t. Not really.

He watched his enemy sorrowfully. The King of Bail knew what his enemy was doing. _She_ was there. Why was she there? Especially after she had gotten kidnapped in a raid and been dragged over to his country. She had stayed their for weeks, forced to work as a servant in the castle until her King sent a note demanding her safe return. He found it amusing, and when he called her in, she had defiantly stood her ground. But he hadn’t sent her back for another week. She’d been by his side, treated as an esteemed guest. He hoped for peace. He had hoped that when she’d seen his country and met his people, she’d want the same. He was a fool. She’d gone straight back to her king, and there they stood.

She knew what he was thinking. In her weeks there, she’d actually learned a lot about what Coran could be. She glanced up at Logan.

“My Lord, perhaps we could offer the flag and finally negotiate for peace?” She offered quietly. He barely glanced down at her.

“After what he’s done? Absolutely not.”

“But-“

He turned to her, his hand shooting out and grabbing her arm. He squeezed it painfully, and she fell silent.

“Do you know why I chose you?” His dark eyes were intense.

“I have always wondered.” She admitted quietly.

“I chose you because of your appearance, and your manner. Both signaled to me that you would be quiet and well-liked.” He hissed. “I did not choose you for your brilliant tactical mind or philosophical attributes. Know your place.” He squeezed her arm again before letting her go and turning to the battlefield ahead.

She inhaled slowly, her bottom lip trembling as she did all in her power to not cry.

They spoke together, he noted. He wasn’t close enough to them to make out the words, or even read their lips. But she wasn’t happy, he could tell by the way she ducked her head, her hair falling over her shoulder. She was purposefully hiding her face from her King. She had done the same thing to him many times before. He knew her. A few weeks didn’t seem like long, but had they not been in the situation they were, he would have considered them confidants. Maybe even despite all this, friends. Maybe more.

“Raise the flag.” He commanded his general. The flapping of the flag told him his order had been obeyed.

He outstretched his hand, and the flags handle was given to him. He started forward.

“He approaches.” King Logan noted, his words more of a sneer.

“I do not wish to impose.” She managed to say. “But we should at least meet him halfway.” King Logan didn’t respond, but he turned and snatched the flag from the bearer, raising it up in agreement before shoving it back at him.

“Come on.” King Logan growled, grabbing her arm and marching forward.

“My Lord? What are you doing?” She resisted but he was stronger than her. She stumbled a couple of steps before catching up.

“I want him to see what he failed to do.”

The two sides neared. She looked over at him. The King of Bail. Few knew his true name. Everyone feared him. As she met his gaze, she remembered why. He was cold and calculating, as sharp as a dagger. In truth, a dagger was an accurate representation of him. It wasn’t that he stabbed people in the back. Anyone who spent time with him knew his loyalty to his people. But he often appeared as a large shock after being overlooked. Powerful and quiet was a dangerous combination. Even when she had been forced to work in his palace, she’d seen it. The walls he kept around himself, the veil of his emotions. Yet the more she’d been around him, the more she’d seen how he did it for everyone, not to spite them. His hold on his kingdom was firm, but just. Unlike King Logan, who abused his people financially and cared nothing for them.

And she knew his secret. The King of Bail’s name was Roland. And he didn’t want war.

They came to a stop a few feet away from him. Both Kings sized each other up. After a moment, Roland’s gaze returned to her.

“Why is she here?” He asked quietly.

“To witness my power and be assured no harm will come to her from you ever again.” King Logan raising his chin, arcing an eyebrow. While King Logan was blonde with blue eyes, adorned in shining silver, Roland had dark hair and eyes, with leathor armor more similar to an archers’. She wore the simple red dress she had for her return to Coran. She knew he recognized it. And she knew he remembered the words they had exchanged when she wore it.

“You don’t have to go back.” He had told her as they walked along the garden path. It was beautiful and green, with a small pool and floating lights. It was her favorite place in the Coran castle. She had been there for less than a month, but as the time came for her to depart, she realized she would miss it. The first couple of weeks she had been terrified she would be found out at King Logan’s fiancé. She had even spoken to Roland, and though she had been designated the lowliest of the palace, a mere servant of the grounds, he always seemed to have a reason to speak with her. When King Logan had sent the letter demanding her safe return, she’d feared the worst. But Roland had brought her to the garden and talked with her, gathering her opinions. He had been calm too, even though she’d been lying to him. He seemed to understand why she did it. That next week she’d been treated like a guest as he showed her his kingdom and everything wonderful under his care. She’d grown to regard it fondly. And to call him a friend.

“I have to.” She’d reminded him, playing with a simple ring on her pointer finger as they walked. A gift from him.

“You could stay.” He said quietly. She stopped and looked up at him. His expression was calm, and almost sad. Perhaps a tad morose.

“I have to return. It’ll only speed up the fighting if I remain here.” She’d said quietly.

“I know.” He said quietly. That had been the end of it. As she walked to the carriage later that day, he’d followed at a distance. It was only when she’d offered a curtesy that he responded. The same small curtesy she offered now.

“No.” His voice echoed in her ears. “Don’t. You’re not my subject.”

“I’m not.” She’d agreed. “But I still want to say thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His voice was a whisper, carried away on the wind.

“You and I both know how this is going to end.” King Logan interrupted her memory, jolting her back to the present.

“Why bother with the flag?”

“Send her back.” Roland’s voice was dark. “And then we can begin the fight you so desperately crave.”

“Why would I do that? She is safe with me.” King Logan scoffed. Roland cocked his head, his eyes glinting.

“Safe? Is that how you’d describe my former prisoner? You know I don’t do things halfway. The first thing I’m going to do when we start is come for her.” Roland spoke confidently, but she knew he was lying.

“Is there really no hope for peace?” She interrupted before they could spiral into chaos. “Perhaps we can come to an agreement.”

King Logan grabbed her arm again, twisting it painfully and making her wince as he stepped closer to her.

“Shut your mouth.” He snapped.

Roland took a step forward, his eyes blazing.

“Let go of her. Now.”

King Logan did, but he stayed close to her.

“Please.” She began again. Somehow, seeing Roland made her throw aside all caution she usually used when dealing with King Logan. “Peace is better for everyone. We can make an arrangement.”

King Logan turned to her again, but she didn’t let him stop her. She moved to the side as he reached for her, stepping out of his grasp.

“This is too important to play chicken. People will die.” She insisted, her voice growing louder. “Both of you are strong kings, no one will doubt your power if you chose peace!” King Logan unsheathed his sword. She realizes that while she spoke, she’d shifted so she was closer to Roland.

“I knew something happened to you while you were over there.” He declared. “Coran has used its magic on you. You side with them, don’t you. With him!”

“No,” she began, but his eyes were like the cold depths of the sea, devoid of any warmth or understanding. He shouted in fury and raised his sword. At the same time, she felt a hand grab her shoulder and pull her back as Roland stepped in front of her, smoothly bringing up his sword with his other hand to block the blow. Quick as a flash, Roland spun, plunging the sword into King Logan’s chest. Gasps and shouts arose from the army on both sides of them, but no one moved as Logan fell to the ground, blood burbling up in his throat. A few moments later, he went still and silent.

She watched in shock as Roland checked the body.

“Dead.” He said quietly, still kneeling.

“What are we doing to do? His army might still try to fight.” He looked up at her. “I don’t want to lose anyone else today.”

“You saved my life.” She recognized, still shaking.

“And I hope to do the same for everyone else. But what do we do?”

She tried to think, even as her head spun.

“He violated the terms of the flag peace agreement.” She talked slowly. “So by Corvallan Rules of War, his properties and openings are yours.”

“Right.” Roland sighed. “But something tells me half the people here aren’t going to love that.”

“I’ll tell them. They’ll likely listen to me.” She looked down at her dead fiancé.

“Hopefully.”

Roland stood and walked over to her. She tucked she arms behind her back, but he gently took them. His hands were strong, with small calluses from sword training. Hers were shaking.

“You’re okay.” He assured her as everything hit her and she started to cry. She couldn’t help it, and as the adrenaline shot through her body, leaving her more on edge, her shaking worsened.

“You’re okay.” He repeated. She looked down at his hands. Then she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. Her sobs quieted enough for her to speak.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”