Gravity overcame them as they jumped over the west palace wall. Radhildur savored their hitched breath as they quickly approached the ground, the heels of their boots clattering against the cobblestone. For the second time that day, they’d donned their disguise to slip into town. 

After meeting with Frederich earlier that afternoon, they’d been summoned by the king’s right-hand advisor, Jarein. He’d demanded a debriefing of the previous week’s Commons activity and chatter. It was a shame he used their information more to gauge the commonfolk’s opinion on the Royal family versus actually investigating some of the crime operations that they’d dug into. Oh well, impressions of the family of Reyk hardly changed over a week—they were still unpopular. Radhildur, mostly. But what else was new, they were used to their consecutive wins in unpopularity polls. 

“You know,” Jarein had drawled slowly, glancing at Radhildur with something akin to disapproval. “The people would feel more comfortable if their cursed heir was in a secure marriage and not a loose cannon upon the town.”

“Oho. You people are so creative in bringing up my relationship status, really you all deserve a prize.” Radhildur had crossed their arms over their chest. “It’s not happening. I'm more useful to the people as I am, whether they or you acknowledge it. You can tell the king that too—again. Maybe he'll finally cut me off.”

“Obstinate as ever, princess,” Jarein had egged on.

He also had promptly ignored them when they let out an infuriated growl.

“What had happened, while tragic,” he’d said caustically, “is in the past. Get over yourself. I’m sure there are kinder and gentler—or up to your standards—lords, dukes, princes, et cetera. Although finding someone to look past your age and curse will be more challenging than not. Not to mention all those disgusting scars you continue to tack onto yourself. Belligerence will not bring you suitors.”

“Keep prodding all you want,” they challenged lowly. “Neither you nor the king have the power to force this against me anymore. I’ll do as I please.”

Jarein had only huffed indignantly before leaving. 

Which led to the present, where Radhildur firmly slammed their fist in the wall, the stone and mortar cracking underneath the force. 

Get over yourself.

“Whoa there, highness, whatever the wall did to you—it probably doesn’t deserve dismemberment.”

Frederich’s voice was a welcomed break from their mind. And they peeked up at him from beneath the rim of their hat. He looked tired, dark circles prevalent under his eyes, and his rose colored glasses were pushing his bangs back atop his head.

“Long day?” Radhildur asked.

“As tiring as ever.” Frederich rotated his shoulder slowly, “You try pouring over documents for hours on end in a dimly lit room.”

“I’d fall asleep in an instant. It’s why I never excelled in my studies,” they chuckled, “I must admit I’m envious of your commitment, little Scholar.”

“I’m sure you’re fine at it,” he chuckled and gestured for them to lead the way. “If the rumors about your sword skill hold any truth, I’m sure you’re very adept at studying.”

“I’d hardly call my swordsmanship something astute. It was pure desperation and stubbornness that drove me.”

“Then you’d make a fine Scholar.” 

Something warm bloomed along Radhildur’s face and they made sure the skin-tight cowl was securely nestled above the bridge of their nose.

“What’s with the disguise?” Frederich asked.

“I never venture into the town as myself, people are far less friendly that way.” It was a half-hearted joke but a whole truth. “Not to mention, I can walk around carefree. Very few people mess with me when I look as such.”

The Scholar snorted. “You do look as though you’re about to rob someone.”

“Good, I’m glad I look intimidating,” they said. “That means no one will try to shank us at the tavern.”

“Is that a common happenstance for you?”

“Well...”

Radhildur led them to a tavern within eyesight of the Commons. For all his time living at the knights’ housing, Frederich had apparently seemed shocked about the place. Well, they couldn’t blame him. The tavern was mostly a bounty hunter hub, it had a normal house front with a drunkard’s hole-in-the-wall hidden opposite of the parlor once inside. Cheering and singing loudly echoed in the relatively small space, a rowdy crowd peaked in their inundated din. Radhildur led Frederich to the counter.

The barmaid’s eyes lit up with excitement when she met them. She tossed her curly ginger locks over her shoulders. “Oh it’s you, cutie! And you’ve brought me a friend—he’s too sweet for this place, y’know. He looks like a golden pup among wolves. You didn’t kidnap him did you?”

Huffing, Radhildur shook their head and patted Frederich’s hair. To which, Frederich immediately shot them a shocked expression.

“Oh my!” The barmaid’s laughter was melodic. “An underling then. Good for you! Are you dining and drinking today?”

They nodded.

“Go find a spot, I’ll bring your meals out shortly!”

Radhildur ushered Frederich to a lone spot in the corner of the tavern, hidden away from most of the prying eyes. 

“You didn’t say a word!” Frederich marveled. “I believe that’s the first time that I’ve heard you so silent.”

“Most people here believe me mute,” they admitted lowly. “I could use Ku’s gift to change my voice, however anytime I draw upon the Celestial’s blessing, it drains me a tad. So it’s easier to pretend I cannot speak.”

The Scholar stared at them with an owlish blink. “Wait. You pretend to be mute?”

They nodded.

“And you wear that silly hat and mask every time you come into town?”

Radhildur snorted. “I don’t think they’re silly.”

“And you are most definitely,” Frederich seemed to be on the verge of laughter. “Strong enough to take on an entire gang in a fight?”

“I don’t brag, little Scholar. What are you on about?”

“You don’t happen to be—”

“Rognvaldur!”

The great booming voice of Dullahan cut through the tavern’s cacophony and both the Scholar and the Royal jumped in their seats. Radhildur’s hands immediately went to their face, assuring their cowl was in place. An uncomfortable look crossed Frederich’s face, and he looked like he wanted to be anywhere but the tavern. 

“And young Frederich? I didn’t know the two of you were acquainted!” Dullahan took a seat next to Radhildur, an ale keg slamming down on the table as he sat.

Frederich tried to recover. “I didn’t know you frequented places like this, Sir Dullahan.”

“I love little tavern hops like this,” the old knight said. “But I’ve never known you to be interested, young Frederich. How long have you two known each other?”

Radhildur shrugged as if to say “Eh.”

“A few days actually,” Frederich added swiftly. “I bumped into him when I went to go look for my father the other night.”

There was a proud look on Dullahan’s face that made it difficult to be upset. “It pleases me greatly to know my best pupils are acquaintances.”

Radhildur’s gaze widened and they sent a questioning look.

Frederich immediately shook his head no.

Dullahan pressed on. “You must’ve just missed each other in training cycles. Frederich left the knighthood about five years ago, which if I recall, was when Rognvaldur began his training. How far both of you’ve come! A prime Scholar and a prime honorary knight.”

Quiet awkwardly settled around the table. Dullahan was oblivious and set forth to guzzling down his drink. Frederich stared down at the tabletop. With a deep sigh, Radhildur tried to figure out a way to get the old knight to move on to his next stop. As much as they loved his company and would like to know more about Frederich in general, it was clear the Scholar was unhappy. 

Radhildur croaked coarsely and pointed to their mouth. 

“Oh! You were getting ready to eat weren’t you?” Dullahan’s eyes glittered with understanding. “Freddie, consider yourself lucky. We think Rognvaldur’s tongue was cut out when he was young, so he doesn’t like anyone watching him eat. It’s a messy affair. He must trust you greatly.”  

Frederich oohed as if he understood the importance.

The knight was unfazed. “I’ll leave you both to it. Just be careful heading home, yeah? There’s been an increase in kidnappings lately.”

Wait, Frederich’s discomfort aside, this is important. Radhildur gave a swift and sharp kick to Frederich’s shin beneath the table. 

“What?!” The scholar shouted angrily and shot a dirty look to Radhildur.

Dullahan misunderstood and leaned forward. “It’s horrible news isn’t it? The knights have been investigating all week but when we uncover one likely suspect, all trails go cold and we’re back to square zero again.”

Frederich glowered and rubbed his leg.

Radhildur pointed to themself.

“Don’t worry yourself about it yet, lad,” the old knight said. “Although we may consult you soon. The trails don’t make any sense. People are going missing at random. Perhaps Ku is becoming more and more unhinged and is causing chaos for fun. I pray to Av that we find the people missing.”

Freezing, Radhildur didn’t respond. Things like this were not Ku’s fault—men’s actions should be blamed upon men, the Celestials hardly played hands into issues like these.

“Both of you stay safe tonight,” Dullahan waved, and left with a sure nod and gesture of his keg. 

The barmaid arrived almost immediately after he left with two plates of stew and two mugs of hard liquor. She noted the frosty looks on both diners and decided it best to swiftly leave. 

Radhildur stared down on their food, their appetite very long gone. 

Frederich didn’t seem much better if it weren’t for his chuckle after a moment. “So you’re Rognvaldur, huh?”

“Yeah,” Radhildur sighed before pulling their mask down just enough to eat. “That’s the name I go by.”

“You’ve got quite the admirer group that follows you,” he smirked. 

“I’m painfully aware of that,” they snorted, taking a bite of stew. “I did nothing to earn such attention. In fact quite the opposite, I’ve been trying to keep a low profile. Going to the Commons in the early morning, investigating crimes at night, wearing a disguise. So on and so forth.”

Frederich took a sip of the liquor before looking at it with approval. “I’m afraid highness, there’s nothing low profile about you.”

“What did I tell you to call me when it’s just us?” They huffed.

He smiled and took a drink. “Actually, wouldn’t you prefer that I call you Rognvaldur out in public?”

Radhildur paused and stared at him.

“What?”

“No one that knows me, genuinely knows me, has ever called me that. It’s the name I made for myself while I’m out among the people. I suppose it caught me off guard.”

Frederich smiled. “Which name do you prefer? Rathi or Rognvaldur?”

“Feeling generous tonight?” Radhildur defaulted to teasing, that was easier to focus on. No one had ever asked them before.

“No, I’m asking a friend,” Frederich continued downing the keg, “what they would like for me to call them.”

“Friends? Is that what you’d call us?” They figured he had the right idea, this was not a conversation for sobriety. They also gulped down their liquor without hesitation. “You’ve known me for two days max.”

“And yet you’ve been as genuine, annoying, and forthcoming as someone who’s known me for years. For as long as you require my services and continue to save me from Ku’s realm, I think we could consider this more than a friendship of sorts, even.”

“I like your straightforward personality,” they laughed. “Perhaps that’s what started this in the first place.”

“Myself mouthing off to you while you shoved me against a shelf?” Frederich asked deadpan. 

“Be honest, you enjoyed it.”

“Hardly—don’t flatter yourself, Rognvaldur.”

Radhildur paused and faltered.

“Prefer Rathi?”

“It’s not that…I just wasn’t prepared. I didn’t not like it though.”

“Perhaps I’ll call you all of the above to keep you on your toes.”

“Actually, I’d enjoy that.”

“Good. I quite like it when you’re happy.” Frederich raised his mug and held it out. “It’s a deal then.”

Radhildur clanked their drink against his before taking another swig. Something about all this sat very well in their stomach. Grimhildis and Jarein were the only humans they spoke to on a regular daily basis outside of the soldiers at the Commons. And they hadn’t heard from their other siblings in years, so it had been a long time since anyone had spoken with them so informally or with such fondness.

They supposed the original purpose for this meeting would be long lost with something far more pleasant instead. Taking a drink, they didn't bother to suppress the happy blush creeping along their face. At the moment, they were more than pleased to just be with Frederich.