There's something different about Decebalus. He doesn't seem to care what he says or who he says it to. He's his own person and in a sense, I'm beginning to admire that about him.
Another day in this forsaken castle on a hill. Our kingdom won't last much longer it seems. The cold getting more and more intense each day. My thoughts cluster my mind and i feel a sharp pain behind my eye, as i open the door to the advisory room. My father sits at the end of the table, 3 lords of the kingdom on each side an a map in the middle of the table.
"My dear Niculina," he say with a grin, my father already drinking while the fire crackles in the wall behind him.
"You requested my presence father."
"Yes we have important matter to discuss and Prince Tyrian is going to be joining us this fine evening." I glance over to the side as I see a young man with ebony skin and a strong jawline fitted in a tailored gold and black over coat, smile at me.
"Hello Princess Niculina, it's been a frighteningly long time since we've seen each other." walking up to me he bows and kisses my hand, maintaining eye contact. The sheer disgust I feel is never ending because I already know what this is about.
My father motions for me to sit so i oblige.
"my dear Niculina, we are going to be discussing a marriage proposal. We are in dire need of troops and we don't have many options left for us. The winter has been treacherous on the farmers and the fisherman are struggling to fish. We need to make a pact with a kingdom in order to survive." my father declared. The last thing I want is to be married. I'm lucky to have avoided it even for this long.
"Father, you know I don't want to be married especially to someone I don't even love." I gesture to Tyrian, not even caring if i fend offense. The last thing I want is to be married to an arrogant prick who sleeps around with almost everyone under his command.
It's been like this for too long; My father trying to get me to marry and I've been pushing it off.
His smile falters, the drunkenness yet to consume him. "Love..." he scoffs, waving a goblet of fine wine, "Love is something for warmer times. We need to consider survival."
Prince Tyrian smiles, "Your father is right, Princess. You're affection for me can grow if given time and proximity but you're going to run out of time sooner or later, joining hands with me will bring you and abundance."
I sneer, "I'd sooner grow frost in my lungs."
Several of the Lords shift uncomfortably. Lord Vasile leaning forward, tapping his coarse callused finger against the map that lies in the middle, "Your Majesty, the eastern passes are nearly sealed with frozen snow. If we do not act before the next full moon, we may lose access entirely."
"And our stores?" my father asks.
"Dwindling," Lord Bacius answers grimly. "Grain will last us about a month and a half, maybe less if weather gets worse. This has been the toughest year we have had."
Silence stretches across the room like a burning wildfire, suffocating.
"Which is precisely why this union between our kingdoms cannot be delayed," Tyrian added. "My father is prepared to send men the moment the terms are agreed upon."
It's as if this couldn't get any worse. I know for a princess I've had it good but ever since my mother died, things have been never the same. My father is drunk most days, and I simply do not want to marry someone as a political move.
"I will not marry him!" My anger is boiling in my veins, the frustration seeping from every pore in my body.
Before my father could respond, the door flew open with a sharp crack against the wall. A knight rushed in, snow cladded on his armor and breathing unsteadily. "Your Majesty," he said, dropping to one knee. "Forgive the interruption."
My father's irritation has spiked, "This had better be worth it."
"Yes, sire. Our scouts have returned. They have found a trade route just north of the frozen river, through the lower mountain ridge. It appears unguarded." Murmurs ripple across the room.
"But that path was lost years ago," one lord said. "So we believed," the knight replied. "But there are markings and it seems the ice has melted. Signs of life beyond the border. Smoke rising from beyond. Whoever is out there—they are enduring the winter." The tension in the room shifted, there is hope in this path.
Tyrian stood up, scanning the map, "If this is true, it could change things!"
"It could also be a dead end." Lord Bacius said sharply.
"Or a trap from the Fresyians." another lord proclaimed. My father gazed seized on the map, undoubtedly remember the last time we sent a party to check the area. That was when my brother, Alenzi died. They were ambushed from the mountain tops by Fresyian troops when they last tried to lay siege to our kingdom. Since then, we have been at constant war. My father has been struggling, and I can't blame him because so have I; But what annoys me the most is the lack of his leadership lately. It has been seen as a weakness by many.
I seize the moment, "Then we send a party to confirm it. Before we make any permanent decisions." Tyrian glanced at me as if he was studying me. "That would be the logical step," he agreed. "A small, capable group. Fast enough to return before conditions worsen." My father looked between us, weighing options like pieces on a board.
"And who," he asked slowly, "would you trust with such a task?" Everyone glances around the room and then Tyrian smirks while standing up. "I will go." Looking at me then my father. "Consider it a sign of my loyalty."
"But you are a prince, not a scout!" exclaimed Bacius. Tyrian keeps his eyes on me, "what better way to prove my commitment to this alliance? If I am to stand next to your beautiful daughter, I should be willing to secure her kingdom first." He smirks and takes a sip from his wine. The arrogance.
Murmurs filled the room; some impressed by his claim, others still uneasy sending out a party. I felt the heat rising on my cheeks—not from any flattery of the sort. No, it was from embarrassment and the utter audacity of it. "My kingdom does not need to be secured for me," I stated through gritted teeth and annoyance, stepping forward before my father could utter a word, "Nor do I require proving grounds for anyone's loyalty."
Tyrian's smirk did not falter, but something sharper flickered behind it—interest, perhaps, or challenge. "Then consider it not for you," he replied smoothly, setting his cup aside. "But for the alliance your father is so eager to preserve."
I held his gaze, refusing to be the first to look away. "Alliances are not built on reckless displays," I shot back. "They're built on trust—and trust is not proven by throwing a prince into danger to make a point."
A few of the lords nodded at that. Bacius looked particularly satisfied, though he tried to mask it behind a cough. My father finally rose from his seat, the quiet authority of the movement silencing the room. "Enough," he said, his voice low but commanding. His eyes moved from me to Tyrian, measuring, calculating. "The princess is right. This is not a game of pride."
Tyrian inclined his head slightly, but he did not sit. "Then allow me to rephrase," he said. "Send me not as a prince—but as a member of the party. I will not lead it. I will follow your chosen commander. If I am to be bound to this kingdom, I should know the land I may one day defend."
I knew I would not win this exchange but perhaps as reluctant as I am, maybe this was better for the kingdom. I massage between my brows, sighing. "Fine, its childish to argue back and forth as we are wasting time. Do what you will." I bow towards my father and turn to leave the room. I get so sick of this lifestyle as if my own opinions or actions go against my family and people. I escort myself out of the advisor room, heading to my quarters.
If I am to wed a prince, I shall give it hell for I know I am not just a pawn.