“Ren, don’t do this. It’s not easy for me either,” Kathryn pleaded. 

“What’s not easy?” Ren sat up. “Arranging a political marriage to give yourself power? I know that you asked your father for this, Kat. And I know you’ve always wanted it; I just don’t see why you didn’t want to tell me. Did you think I couldn’t guess? I may not be very clever, but I’m not dumb.” 

Kathryn sat next to him, turned him away from her, and started unbraiding his long blond hair. She noticed her hands were shaking a little, and she took a deep breath to steady herself. “I never thought you were. But I did think you’d be upset.” 

“‘Course I’m upset! It’s a crazy idea,” he retorted. “Running into a collapsing mine makes more sense.” 

Kathryn retorted, “It’s not crazy. I’m not going to make excuses for doing what I have to. Should I stay here and wait for Illian to make a move against me?” 

“I could protect you from anything anyone throws at you,” Ren said dismissively. 

She was quiet for a moment, and then at last she muttered, “Did you ever think that you might get killed trying?” 

Ren stiffened. “When’s the last time you watched me fight?” 

“I’m not saying you’re weak, Ren. I’m saying you’re not a god.” Kathryn smoothed his hair and divided it into four braids as she talked. “We both know Illian has more power and the full support of the soldiers and nobles alike. Should I wait around until father dies to see how much Illian decides to offer me, if he even wishes me to live?”

Ren dismissed such political machinations with a wave of his hand, insisting, “I thought it was important to be honest with each other. So in case you’re wondering, yes, I’m mad at you.” 

“I know that too.” Kathryn removed the ribbon from her hair and tied it around the bottom of the braids to pull them together. “But that won’t change anything.” 

“You don’t have to go.” He caught her hand. “There’s no reason. I can do anything for you, Kat. We can take over the world if we want to. You don’t have to go this far.” 

“It’s not my fault, Ren. If Illian was the same way as when we were children, I wouldn’t have to,” she began. 

Ren shook his head with growing frustration. “You’re lying again. Illian wouldn’t hurt you, and if he ever tried, I could protect you. You just have to have power. You have to be in control.” 

“You’re not being fair.” Kathryn was reddening a bit in spite of herself. Stay calm, she reminded herself. You’re the mature one here. “You’re going  to come with me, anyway. You’ll be able to protect me there.” 

“I could think of a lot of things I’d rather do,” Ren muttered. 

Kathryn decided to pretend she hadn’t heard him. “Anyway, don’t you have sparring soon?” she said abruptly. 

Ren stood up. “So I take it you just want me to pretend to agree and go along?” 

“That’s up to you. You can keep making a fuss about things that can’t be helped, or you can help me as you promised.” She touched his hand lightly, fixing her eyes on his face. “As you always have, Ren.”  

“Sure.” Ren’s smile had a hint of unusual bitterness in it. “As I always have. Right.” As he was talking, he put up his hand to his head and only just then realized he was wearing a beautiful pink silk ribbon in his hair. “Really?” he said. 

“I can’t believe it took you that long to notice,” Kathryn giggled. “Here; I’ll take it out.” 

“Nuh-uh. It’s mine now. You put it in my hair, so I’m keeping it.” 

“Carina will kill me; she loves that ribbon,” Kathryn protested, trying to reach to take it. 

Ren playfully ducked, and they scuffled briefly before Ren caught her wrists. “I’m keeping it,” he said firmly. “I’m stronger’n you, so you might as well give it up.” He ducked out before she could reply. 

Kathryn called after him teasingly, “I could have you arrested for theft, you know!” 

“Finders keepers!” 

“That’s not how that works!” 

But he was already gone. Kathryn rolled her eyes and sat down to continue reading her book with a little sigh of relief. Somehow, she felt a little better bsince they’d talked about it, even if nothing had actually been resolved. She put Ren out of her mind and was able to focus quite nicely on important matters like the original conflict between Navinor and Iridalys. 

In the meantime, Ren made his way to the training fields as he always did at this time of day. Valen was waiting for him. Ren snatched up a training spear, remarking, “I thought for sure you’d be running scared.” 

Valen shrugged. “It’s good training,” he began, but he didn’t get a chance to finish as the spear was headed right for his face. 

He knocked it aside and snatched up a staff. Guards and soldiers gathered around to watch as Valen and Ren sparred. Ren wasn’t in the mood to hold back. The staff and spear came together with so much force that the hardwood cracked. Then Ren tossed aside his spear and lashed out with his foot, narrowly missing Valen’s shoulder as he jumped back. Ren followed up with a vicious right hook, which Valen blocked with the staff. Using his left foot, Ren kicked the spear up into the air and caught it just in time to clash once again. 

An older man among the spectators, in his early 50s, observed with less enthusiasm than the rest. His hair was graying, but his hands remained powerful, and they twitched at his sides as though he’d have preferred to be the one battling. He muttered disapprovingly, “Keep it together, boy.” 

At one point, Ren kicked Valen directly in the chest, driving his heavy breast plate into his ribs painfully. The older man standing on the sidelines called out, “That’s a foul, Ren!” 

Ren blocked Valen’s staff with his forearm, and they all winced at the loud ‘crack.’ Then he punched Valen in the throat, sending him flying. As he crashed to the ground, Ren called back, “There are no fouls in war, Brenin!” 

General Valen struggled to sit up, clutching his throat and gasping for breath. Ren walked over to him and held out his hand with a smug look on his face. The watching soldiers laughed, and one of the men called, “Are you going to kiss and make up, General Ren?” 

“No, but I’ve got a little bit of it out of my system,” Ren said cheerfully as he helped Valen stand. 

“Nice ribbon, princess!” Another soldier chortled. 

“Thanks. I stole it from her ladyship.” 

“You could get put in jail for that,” Brenin pointed out. 

Ren shrugged. “I’d like to see them try.” The crowd dispersed, and Ren walked up to the self-made referee with an unmistakable swagger. “Want to try your luck next, old man?” he asked. 

“This old man could still whip you with one hand, boy,” Brenin replied contemptuously. “Don’t press your luck. What was all that about? That was no friendly contest.” 

“It was plenty friendly. He’s still got his head, don’t he?” Ren put away the spear as he talked. 

“You’re still nothing but a brat.” Brenin rapped him on the head painfully. 

“Ouch! Hey-”

“You’ve been causing trouble, haven’t you? When will you learn that your actions affect others as well as yourself?” Brenin shook his head at him and “tsked” like an old grandma. 

“Eh. I’m not worried about Kathryn, if that’s who you mean. She’s cold as ice; nothing bothers her.” Ren stretched his arms and called, “Who's next? One of you soldiers get over here; I’m bored!” 

“Behave yourself, or it’ll be me who teaches you a lesson,” Brenin reminded him. 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

As Brenin watched his protégé challenge soldier after soldier, a deep frown etched lines of worry on his face. His hand occasionally strayed to his lips, a habit from when he had a bottle in it that he could drown his worries in. He muttered, “Blast it, boy. You never were good at following advice, especially when the heart's involved. Why can’t you ever make things easy for yourself?” It was as though he was looking at Ren as he had been that first day long ago: confused, angry, and lashing out at the world around him. And that was not a pleasant memory.