The sound of clanging steel rang out in the court yard.

Underneath mail and plate sweat slowly trickled down Willem’s chest. Across from him stood Naimar Mckade. He was sixteen and a head taller than Willem. Naimar readied himself into a fighting stance, his eyes of onyx stared daggers at Willem. His armor was black as his eyes, his face was of chiseled stone and handsome. He lowered his helm as Sir Caster, master-at-arms approached.

Sir Caster bowed respectfully towards the prince as he strode past him and stopped between the two young men.

Sir Caster cocked a crooked grin and sized up both of them, he was a cantankerous old man who worshiped the sword over the gods. He prided himself on the quality of knights he trained, the list was filled with great heroes and famous knights who who were champions of tourneys. Sir Caster took every training session seriously and would be quick to anger if he noticed someone slacking. The pit was the nickname he gave to the courtyard.

“Are you two ready?” Asked Sir Caster in a voice more fit for a growling dog than a person. Willem nodded “Yes milord”, Naimar grunted and pounded his chest. “Begin” he roared, Naimar barreled towards Willem quickly closing the distance between them. Naimar swung a swift blow directed at the prince’s head and Willem ducked underneath it and swung his sword directly at his ribs. Just as quickly Willem swung Naimar dropped his sword to parry the prince’s blow and the sheer force his strength knocked the prince off balance. Willem startled backwards but quickly regained his composure. He inhaled deeped the exhaled sharply and began to press the next exchange.

Willem unleashed a barrage of blows towards Naimar but he was able to keep up. They stalemated blades in a clash with Naimar quickly gaining the upper hand. The large boy used stepped forward used his size and shoved the prince to the ground. “Do you yield?” Naimar asked as he raised his helm to reveal his smiling face. Willem scoffed and cursed under his breath. “I take that as a yes my prince” he chuckled. Naimar placed his sword back into his sheath and extended his hand to help. He pulled the prince to his feet “I can never best you” he admitted lowly. “I am bigger than you” Naimar said cheerfully.

“The prince is dead” stated Sir Caster, “Lucky for you these blades are blunted.” Sir Caster made his way towards them. “If Naimar was not your friend he would have made quick work of you.”

Willem looked down in defeat, he was right he admitted to himself no matter much he hated it. Naimar was stronger and just as fast as him. His reactions were swift and precise as well, The old man-at-arms watched as Naimar let out a cheerful smile. “Look at me boy” he barked and Naimar’s face turned back to stone, eyes dead focused. “This is no victory for you, sparring with someone half your size. You want to be a knight? Spar with any real Sir in this courtyard and find how inferior your skills truly are.”

Naimar nodded silently “Leave now Mckade. Come back when you find your stones.”he ordered. Naimar quickly bowed lowly and rushed out of the courtyard. Sir Caster took Willem’s face into his hands “Prince look at me when I am talking to you.” Willem looked “You are lacking a warrior’s edge. I am here to make warrior’s to fight for your father, and one day fight for you.” He released his face, “I fought for your father, I killed in his name. Your father was made of steel, tempered and forged in the crucible of violence.” Sir Caster placed his heavy hand one Willem’s shoulder “You boy. What are you made of?”

Willem was silent, he could not think of an answer. “Steel” the old knight responded shaking his head. “Warrior blood flows through you. Embrace it well. Now get out of here and let me train some real knights.” he dismissed Willem. Willem bowed his head and made his way through the courtyard were he found his hound waiting. He was a silent sentinel waiting atop the stairs for his master. As he approached the large dog began to wag its tail. “Come Bernier” he called and the dog padded closely. He made his way into his chamber and methodically began to remove his armor and chain mail while the dog slept quietly on the floor. After he finished he began to get redressed in black pants high leather black boots and a cyan doublet similar to the one his uncle wears.

It was mid day when he made it towards the dinning hall finding his mother and his siblings sitting enjoying a meal as he approached. “Willem” his mother gestured to him to take a seat beside her. His mothers long red hair was braided down her back and showing off her features of golden eyes and high cheekbones. The looks his eldest sister and his younger twin brothers had, only Brielle and himself looked like their father. “Are you excited your name day is coming up?” she asked before taking a sip from her goblet. Willem nodded “Yes mom, I am going to be a knight” his mother smiled “A knight needs a proper sword.”

“My own sword?” he asked trying to keep his composure. “Yes. Your father and I discussed it.” his sister Brielle nudged him in the ribs, she had short white hair with large glowing blue eyes “Will ask mom for a dragon” she whispered to him. “Mom, Brielle wants a dragon” their mother laughed with all the elegance of the queen she was, “Your father said if you want a dragon Brielle, you must hunt it yourself.” Brielle frowned and sunk into her seat “Willem gets a dog, a sword and everything.” “Sit up straight, that is no way a princess behaves.” their mother chastised her. Brielle sat up but still frowned.

Leana sat across from him the splitting image of their mom save for the streaks of white in her hair, while the young twins Richard and Robert sat on the end trying to use forks and spoons to play. “Leana a letter came for you this morning” their mother said as she placed a letter on the table. “Who is it from?” his sister asked as she picked it up. “Just a knight of the summer vale” his mother said coyly. Leana face turned tomato red and she quickly tore open the letter, she read it and quickly placed it down. “May I be excused mother?” she asked abashedly, she nodded and Leana quickly bowed and left.

His mother gestured towards servants to come collect the twins who were still playing with their food. “Brielle” she said sharply “It is time for your lessons. Lady Odessa is waiting.” she said more like a battle commander than a queen. His sister wanted to fuss about it but his mother was not going to have it and simply waved her away. They were alone now. She sat quietly a moment then broke the silence “You are getting married.”

His felt his chest tighten. Marriage. He was not ready. He did not know any girls to marry, he had a crush on Isabella Caleman, a knight of the royal guard’s daughter; she was thirteen and very pretty with long golden curls and shimmering green eyes. They shared a kiss on her name day months ago, it was in the garden at night underneath the stars. He remembered he hair swaying in the breeze and her smile. The way her gown hugged her body tightly, the softness of her skin. “Who am I to marry?”

“The choice will fall partly to you. Your marriage will shape the realm and your alliances.” She wrapped her arms around him. It was warm and safe, she kissed him on the forehead “I know this is a lot to take in.” she said sweetly. “Do you remember Lord Hywin’s daughter, Elyse?” she asked. He shook his head “Not really” he said softly not wanting to leave his mother’s embrace. He tried to picture her but truly could not. He remembered Lord Hywin’s had three daughters and he had brief encounters with all of them.

“Your father will want you to marry her. Lord Hywin is like a second brother to him. It is said she is the most beautiful of the summer maidens.” his mother explained. “There will be others though” she added. She released her hug and the warm safety was gone “You look so much like him.” she said proudly. Willem frowned “What’s wrong?” his mother asked. “Nothing” he lied but his mother simply smiled “I know it is hard right now. You should speak to him.”

Willem nodded silently. The man he knew as his father was gone, the once strong and proud king was only a shell. A weak feeble impostor sat in his place. He thought of his father from a year ago, tall and clean shaven with his clear blue eyes and every thing a king was supposed to be. Now it was hard to believe that was the same man. They hardly spoke anymore, his father barley spoke to anyone save the council and his mother sometimes. I will be king one day, I will be nothing like the man that rules now.

“Go talk to him” his mother more or less demanded as she stood up. “I will” he said as she hugged him one last time and made her away from the dinning table.