Ren dismissed Brenin's stern warning with a laugh. “Oh, come on. I’m not that bad. What do you think I’m going to do anyway? Get in a fistfight with the prince?” 

“You might,” Brenin said. “ou might also try something stupid, like running away with the princess.” 

“Ha. She’d have to want to run away with me, which she doesn’t.” Ren pushed his plate back. “I’ll do the dishes,” he said cheerfully. 

“Maybe you should talk to Illian.” Brenin watched Ren’s face to gauge his reaction to the words. The younger man froze, but only for a split second. 

“About what?” he asked in a casual tone. 

“About encouraging her not to go. You don’t want her to, isn’t that right? So talk it out with the both of them, and-” 

“I’m not talking anything over with Illian,” Ren interrupted. A bitter, unhappy look flashed briefly across his face as he spoke, but disappeared into a teasing smile a moment later. “If I didn’t know better, oh Wise One, I’d think you didn’t want me to go.” 

“I don’t,” Brenin said honestly. “It’s too dangerous, especially since you’ve never been one to control your feelings.” 

“Am too,” Ren argued. “I’m an expert at controlling myself!” 

Brenin gripped his arm. Ren avoided his eyes as the older man said, “You’re treading on dangerous ground, boy. I told you, you have to love her life more than yours without actually loving her. Or else you’re no good as a bodyguard.” 

“That’s a little harsh. I’m a good bodyguard,” Ren said. “Look, Gramps. Let’s talk about this later. I’ve got to pack for the trip.” 

“You only have a few things. What do you think I’m going to do when you’re gone?” Brenin complained. “Why would you deprive me of my last few days with you just to act like a moody child again?” 

“Ha. Are you sure I’m the one who’s acting like a moody child? Pretty sure I raised you more than you raised me,” Ren said lightly. “Let’s forget about it, old man. I’ll see you later.” He rose to go. 

“Don’t go see that girl.” 

Ren paused in the doorway and glanced over his shoulder. “By ‘that girl,’ I take it you mean her royal highness?” 

“You’re cleverer than you used to be, I see. Don’t torture yourself, boy. Let it be. There’s nothing you can do for her other than see to it that she arrives safely.” 

“Butt out, old man.” Ren’s face had reddened slightly. “It’s none of your business what I do.”

“That’s not true, and you know it. We’re not ones to hold back with each other,” Brenin told him. “I owe you to tell you this much.” 

“Your conscience is clear now. You’ve told me all you need to,” Ren said. “See you later, Gramps. Get a nap. I hear those are good for old folks.” 

With that, he left. Brenin grumbled and settled in his chair by the fire. His hand wandered to his lips again, but he caught himself this time and tapped on the table by the chair instead. “Insufferable brat,” he muttered. “He never did listen to me.” 

There was a moment of silence. Then he sat back with a sigh. “What am I supposed to do without that rascal?” he said to no one in particular. For the last ten years, Ren had been there. And some part of him assumed that was the way it always would be. Now, he found it very hard to accept that was soon to change. 

Later that night, Ren returned, with a few scrapes from further sparring. As they sat down to eat, Brenin said, “Will you write to me when you’re gone?” 

Ren grinned at him. “You’re getting soft, old man. What, are you going to ask me to write to you every day?” 

“At least then I’d know you hadn’t caused a war or anything,” Brenin grumbled. 

Ren laughed. He could always laugh easily, no matter the situation, but the sound grated on Brenin’s ears this time. Brenin said, “Let’s play Paxel.” 

Then Ren’s smile disappeared. “Oh come on, Gramps!” 

“I don’t care if you like it or not. You need to learn strategy if you’re going to run off to some barbaric land,” Brenin informed him. 

Ren fussed the whole time as Brenin was setting up the board, but Brenin finally said, “That’s enough. Play, or I’ll remind you how to respect your elders.” 

Ren rolled his eyes and moved a pawn. “Fine.” 

Brenin smirked. “Maybe you need a bit more incentive. If you lose, we’ll train like in the old days for 24 hours. If I lose, you get to train me however you want.” 

Ren’s eyes lit up. “You’re on, oh Wise One!” 

“Hahaha, I’m going to enjoy making you so miserable you remember it long after you’ve crossed the border!” 

Four moves later, Brenin won. “Pax per victorian. Peace through victory. You’re not concentrating,” he said. 

Ren stood up. “I’m going to bed.” 

“Sit down.” 

Ren did so with a heavy, exaggerated sigh. 

Brenin leaned forward. “You spent ten years training to beat me in sparring. You can spend one night trying to beat me at Paxel.” He paused and picked up one of the pieces. “Listen to me, boy. You’ve spent your life doing what you were told and leaving the big thinking to others. But where you’re going, you’ll need to be able to make your own decisions, your own strategies. You can’t depend on anyone, not even the princess, to always point you in the right direction. It’ll be up to you whether or not you’re a pawn…” he held up another piece. “Or whether you can take control of the board yourself.”  

Ren considered his words, then a grin flashed across his face. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll beat you by morning.” 

Brenin hid a smile. “See that you do. Here. These front pieces are pawns. They move only one space, unless they’re jumping over another pawn. They can only capture other pawns, got it? And these ones in the back are the same way, only they move diagonally instead of straight forward. And they can capture any piece, not just pawns.” As the night continued, Ren’s strategy began to improve, if only slightly. And after a long time, Brenin finally decided he might as well let the kid win one. He ignored Ren’s more impulsive moves and made a couple deliberate blunders, which Ren immediately noticed and countered. 

And at long last, Ren beat him! “Ha! That was a lot easier than beating you at sparring!” Ren said cheerfully. “Now, I’ve got to think about what I’ll make you do.” 

“No, we didn’t wager that time,” Brenin reminded him, smiling as the young man’s face fell. He patted him on the shoulder. “Good night, lad.” 

“Wait a sec! Hey, you can’t just leave!” 

Brenin went to lie down and let out a loud fake snore. Ren glared at his “sleeping” form. “Rotten old goat,” he muttered. But he hummed a little tune as he went to lie down, quite pleased with his victory and never suspecting Brenin’s kind deception, or that his mentor’s heart was sore and breaking that night.

On the day Kathryn was to travel to Navinor, Carina spent two hours styling Kathryn’s hair, choosing an outfit for her, and arranging her luggage. In the end, the princess was wearing a light traveling outfit with a split skirt so she could ride if necessary, though the plan was to have her travel by carriage as much as possible. However, Carina was to follow after in a few days, much to Kathryn’s distress. Her nearly-sixty-year-old bones wouldn’t be able to make the trip as quickly as Navinor demanded. 

So it was just Ren, Kathryn, a single handmaiden, and a few guards. Of course, Navinor didn’t want more than 20 armed men crossing the border. They couldn’t have known what sort of a monster they were inviting in by allowing Ren, Kathryn reflected. 

As Kathryn stepped into the carriage to the sound of fanfare and clapping from her proud family and servants, she could only think of one thing. Thank God he’s coming with me. There was no reason to feel any fear. There was no reason to hesitate as long as he was there to protect her. 

As the carriage prepared to creak away from the palace, she waved out the window and her teary-eyed father waved back, calling out her name over and over. Brenin took Ren aside to talk to him one last time and embraced him even as tears rolled down his weathered cheeks. And still, the only thing she could think was that she needed him with her. 

Brenin stepped up to the window of the carriage, brushing away tears with his big battle-hardened hands. “My lady,” he said. “Please, take care of Ren for me.” 

Kathryn smiled graciously. “I think he takes excellent care of himself,” she said. 

“That’s only what it seems like on the outside. Sometimes I’m afraid I wasn’t strict enough with him. You’ve got to keep him in line, my lady, for all of our sakes.” Brenin looked deeply troubled, and she hadn’t the heart to tell him she didn’t plan to worry about Ren at all. 

Instead she said, “I will, Brenin. You have my word.” She waved to him as the carriage jolted and started on its way. Brenin stood still, watching as Ren mounted his horse and started after the carriage. Ren didn’t even look back once. And neither did Kathryn.