By early afternoon, the challengers began to blur together in Dante’s mind until he felt like nothing more than a purpose-built tool meant to sweep aside haughty nobles and reverent knights. It became maddeningly repetitive. He nearly found himself cursing his sister for her clever schemes that had so robbed him of anything resembling a challenge. 

Nearly, but not quite.

He understood the importance of his task. He knew that it was vital that he soundly crush every challenger that approached him today. It was crucial that they project strength, and he couldn’t very well fault his sister or parents for taking measures to ensure the success of this endeavor. Yet still it grated him to know that his family held even the slightest doubt about his ability to see this through on his own.

But he had a responsibility. He did not belong to himself, nor even to his family. His actions were not his own, his breath did not enter his own lungs. He belonged body and soul to their kingdom, so he knew he must act with that always at the forefront. He could not show weakness, nor even the slightest imperfection. When viewed in that light, this petty trick could very well be seen as leaving too much to chance. They were out on a limb, entrusting him to ensure that their reputation soared and their princess remained unwed.

Ever dutiful, he blew through challenger after challenger until the sun began to set. This was the traditional end point for the challenges, but he had a point to make. 

Glancing up to where Dinah sat as he hydrated himself from an ice-cold waterskin, Dante shot her a questioning look. She met his eyes and nodded once. Tossing aside the skin, he strode out into the centermost portion of the arena and began projecting his voice out into the stands.

“Are there any remaining who wish to challenge me?” he shouted, his voice commanding and regal despite the long day of mindless butchery he had just committed. “I will stand yet for an hour. If you believe yourself to be my match, do not hesitate to step forward!” He put emphasis on the words as if daring someone to declare themselves his equal.

His call was met with a silence split between reverence and fear. The crowd that had already begun dispersing froze expectantly. He waited for first a minute, then another. When the third minute passed with no challengers, Dante sighed and buried his blunted spear in the earth.

“Then I, Crown Prince Dante Andrade, hereby pronounce the end of this competition. My sister’s honor has been defended, my foes lie defeated, and my ability has been demonstrated.

“Let this day be burned into your minds. Tell your friends, your family, your neighbors. Tell anyone who will listen. Tell them this: House Andrade remains strong, stronger even than they might think. You who have witnessed me today know this well.

“We will not back down from any threat, and we will not hesitate to use our might on behalf of our people. We are mighty, and it is you who give us strength.”

A roar of applause and clapping came from the spectators at that, but Dante didn’t take any joy in it. He had given them a show, achieved a hollow victory, and recited his lines as required. His steel crown weighing heavy on his brow, he turned and exited the arena flanked by a detachment of Royal Knights. They dutifully escorted him to his chambers where servants waited to bathe him and tend to his many minor bruises and scrapes.

After another two hours of silence and being fussed over, Dante finally broke free and fell into bed. He slept deeply, no dreams able to breach his subconscious as the day faded behind him to make way for the next.

…

“I am fine, Mother,” he repeated for the third time, a sigh escaping him as they awaited the start of the gala on the final day of the festival. 

“Promise?” the queen wheedled, her eyes pouting as she brushed Dante’s shoulders clean of non-existent filth. 

“I promise!” he said, rolling his eyes. “You know dancing isn’t really my forte though. Why would you entrust the first dance to me?”

His entire family turned to stare at him with various looks of disbelief. He averted his eyes.

“You can’t be serious, Brother,” Dinah said. “What do you call all that spinning you do with your spears? You might very well be the most accomplished dancer in the kingdom!”

Dante glared at her, making careful note of how their father stifled a laugh at the comment.

“There exists a definitive line between dancing and dueling, Dearest Sister,” he shot back. “I possess no talent in the former, I’m afraid.”

Dinah’s face turned cruel at that. Dante, seeing this, braced himself for the incoming jab at his ego.

“Don’t be afraid, Brother. I’ll protect you. You need but follow my lead.”

“I was under the impression that the man was supposed to lead,” Dante fired back. “Thank you for offering me your guidance in this, Brother. I would be lost without you by my side.”

Dinah looked ready to fire back, but the herald cut her off.

“Now announcing His Majesty the King Darius Andrade, Her Majesty the Queen Artemisia Andrade, His Majesty the Crown Prince Dante Andrade, and the host of this gala, Her Majesty the First Princess Dinah Andrade!” 

Polite clapping and cheering greeted them all as they strode into the hall. The assembled guests, all dressed in rich finery and halfway to drunk by this point in the evening, were positively ecstatic at the arrival of their family. Dante ignored the crowd and instead took his sister by the arm, leading her to the center of the open floor.

The hall, decorated floor to ceiling with fresh-cut flowers and lit by flickering chandeliers of crystal and gold, fell quiet as the two royals took up a starting posture. Dante took one purposeful step and Dinah followed suit, the gathered musicians beginning to play as the siblings’ feet touched down together.

I’ll be fine, he thought as they moved through the rehearsed movements of the dance. He looked down at his sister and saw her perfect composure, her purposeful movements. As long as I have my family, I’ll be fine.

A lot of responsibility would be on him in the coming year. He would continue training the new soldiers and leading his legion, for one, and as always he would be assisting in governance. Additionally, Dante would be required to find a bride very soon. This was something that had been pushed off for quite some time–at his own request–but it would need to be taken care of before it became a topic of public discourse. Nobles had already begun to gossip.

His youngest sister was scheduled to return soon as well, which would be its own basket of stress. Dante had tours and inspections scheduled around the kingdom that he was obligated to attend in his capacity as the Crown Prince. On top of all that, his parents had seen to his request. Very soon, Captain Ophelia would begin teaching him everything he needed to know to grow strong enough to defend his family and his subjects. 

At the end of the dance, Dante and Dinah went their separate ways to mingle with the attendees as was required at events such as this. While he did his best to speak with as many nobles and dignitaries as he could, never dropping the facade of an engaged and enthusiastic conversational partner, a part of his mind remained split from the present and focused on what lay ahead.

I just need to pull my weight.