Frederich’s walk to the castle was quick. He said good morning to the guards at the gate first and foremost, before making his direct report to the scriptorium. He and the head Master Scholar exchanged a brief greeting and explanation of the day’s lessons. Afterwards, Frederich searched for a few books on nobility etiquette and hurried to find Radhildur. 

He wandered past several advisors and court members. When he finally found himself in the Royals’ wing, Frederich was surprised to see Radhildur and Grimhildis, standing at the center of the walkway, very deep in conversation. Radhildur wore their regular navy velvet dress, their mouth covered with their red veil. Grimhildis on the other hand wore a shimmering, satin gown. The sleeveless dress seemed to sparkle like seafoam as her long blue-black hair draped down her back. Frederich realized he had rarely seen the two heirs side-by-side, yet despite their near ten-year age difference, Radhildur and Grimhildis could've been mistaken for twins. They had similar facial expressions,  skin tones, hair, and even the way they bore themselves—both standing tall and stalwart.

But much to his horror, Radhildur seemed to tower over their sister, meaning they were still stuck.

Grimhildis’ eyes flickered over in Frederich's direction, and she sighed before waving him over. Radhildur's attention followed the gesture and their gaze visibly brightened. Frederich approached them both and bowed deeply at the waist. 

“Your Highnesses.” He said. 

“No need for the formality, Master Scholar Frederich,” Grimhildis replied, her hand pressing back on his shoulder for him to stand straight. “Rathi has informed me of your friendship with them, as well as your wager with our father.”

Frederich did his best to school his features. “It's my honor.”

“More than honor,” Grimhildis smiled, her voice melodic and gentle. “Isn't it?”

Radhildur flustered out a protest, and despite his own best attempts, Frederich was distinctly aware of the blush down his neck. “Your Highness—” 

Her laugh was bell-like and she dismissed their embarrassment with a nonchalant flick of the wrist. “Please, there's no one else in the hall at the moment. There's no need to be so guarded. Rathi was in such a panic the other day that it took me forever to calm them down and figure out what happened.”

Frederich turned sharply to Radhildur, blushing furiously. “You told her?”

“She made me!” Radhildur protested lamely. 

“It's been a while since I've seen my youngest sibling act…well like my youngest sibling. So thank you, Scholar Frederich.” Grimhildis’ gaze narrowed and her smile became pressed. “Just know that should this plan of yours, or even you, cause more harm than good for Radhildur—I will not hesitate to have you gutted.”

Frederich froze before thinking back to Bea. He would do the same, if his sister had found herself in such a situation. This was, after all, a rather dangerous gamble. “I understand,” he said. 

“It wouldn't come to that,” Radhildur rumbled, taking a step forward. 

“You cannot guarantee that, nor can you protect him from other members of the crown,” Grimhildis narrowed her gaze to her sibling. “This is the deal you both have made by bargaining your freedom with the king.”

“I can try,” Radhildur growled. 

“Your Highness,” Frederich said, reaching out and lightly brushing his fingers along the back of Radhildur’s hand. “It's fine. Crown Princess Grimhildis is not incorrect, either. Should the King find fault in my skills as a Scholar in regards to your lessons, or should anything go wrong, we’ll both be in danger. And in a moment like that, you will need to protect yourself first. That is the unfortunate nature of the difference between our classes.”

Radhildur looked stricken.

Grimhildis tilted her head, a small flicker of recognition flashing across her expression. She nodded sagely and held out her hand, in her grasp was the silver sword with the peony guard. Radhildur's sword. 

Radhildur's eyes widened and they took their weapon back almost reverently. “How…?” they asked hesitantly.

Grimhildis gave a light shrug as they released the blade. “The King cannot deny me. Not if he wishes I refrain from spreading propaganda about the ruin of Reyk.”

Frederich covered his mouth. His understanding of the crown princess had always been that she was soft-spoken and a puppet for the king to later manipulate once he had to cede the throne. But perhaps Grimhildis had more control than she let on. What a frightening Royal. 

“Now, Radhildur mentioned you were going on an outing for today's lesson.” Grimhildis turned on her toes and started to saunter away. “Both of you be safe and try not to enjoy things too much.”

Frederich felt glued to the spot for a bit. “Your sister is a lot, isn't she?”

“I think…” Radhildur gripped their sword. “That's what makes her fun.”

Taking a steadying breath, Frederich asked, “Are you ready to go too?”

After taking a moment to tie their sword to the sword loop on their corset, Radhildur nodded. 

The air sifted sweetly past them, carrying the remnant scents of autumn and ripe fruit. The trees lining the road outside of the city had already been sunkissed by the creeping chill, turned from greens to ruddy oranges and yellows. Fallen foliage danced around them as Frederich and Radhildur made their way down the road. 

“How much farther?” Radhildur asked.

Frederich looked over his shoulder to see just how far back the detailed guard lingered. It looks like they'd stopped at the city gates, not venturing further than that. He smiled. 

“Not much now,” He said. “I just want to get out of their sight.”

“What unsavory things are you planning, little Scholar, that we need to be hidden?” Radhildur's brow was raised and they leaned forward with an obnoxious look.

“Perhaps some swordplay?” Frederich teased in return, tossing an all-too-pleased wink in return.

Radhildur stumbled forward before laughing. “Frederich, you’re becoming more brazen!”

“Well, I can't let you have all the fun.” Frederich grinned, turning off the road and following the trees to where he remembered there being a small grove. 

It didn't take long for him to find the outcropping. He ushered Radhildur into the hidden hollow of the grove and fished around in his satchel before dropping it to the ground. Radhildur titled their head curiously before Frederich waved around a sheathed dagger. 

“While I didn't realize her Highness the Crown Princess was going to give you back your sword, I had fully planned on us getting the chance to have our duel.”

“A knife to a sword fight hardly feels fair,” Radhildur chuckled.

“You wound me, Highness,” Frederich feigned insult and placed a hand over his heart. “Do you doubt my capabilities as a swordsman?”

“When was the last time you practiced?”

“Well, I suppose when I was seventeen.”

“I doubt greatly then,” Radhildur barked out a loud laugh. “Have you forgotten I'm the Cursed Heir? Terrible strength, a monster, all that.”

“Perhaps I'll surprise you,” Frederich spun the dagger expertly, acquainting himself with the weight of the blade again. While Radhildur would have the full benefit of range, he would be quicker. His blade could land faster slashing attacks at a shorter range whereas Radhildur would have to resort to stabbing attacks but keeping him more than an arms width apart.

“Surprise me then, little Scholar.” Radhildur removed their veil and allowed it to fall to the ground. Their grin was lopsided and wide. 

Frederich's stomach did a small flop. Celestials, he was in so much trouble. His toes ground into the dirt. “Keep the sheaths on to prevent injury, yes? I'd hate for the advisors to think I tried to murder you.”

Radhildur gave a small twirl of their sword, tossing it to their non-dominant hand and bracing it deftly. Their voice rumbled slowly, “Oh you're welcome to try, Freddie.”

Lunging forward, he aimed to catch the heir at the tail end of their sentence. Radhildur stepped back easily and moved his arm out of the way, their eyes crescented and pleased. 

Frederich chuckled and tossed the dagger to his other hand, backslashing. 

Radhildur barked out a laugh, their blades crossing to the hilt in but a moment's touch before they danced out of the way. This time they resumed a proper stance, eyeing Frederich. He hopped up and down in place, warming up his limbs as they protested against the proper movement. Honestly, he couldn't remember the last time he’d challenged himself physically, and to his embarrassment, he already felt winded. But this was fun. Radhildur made it fun. It was so easy to want to show off in front of them because they knew exactly how to match him step for step. He hadn't been a knight long, just barely out of his phase as a squire before he had to leave, but each movement fell so perfectly into how Frederich remembered them.

“It's good to know you weren't bluffing about being unconcerned for your physical safety if you were to ever face me,” Radhildur praised from their side of the grove. “You know your way around a sword.”

Frederich choked on a laugh. “I’ve had some experience, once or twice, with a blade.”

“Good,” Radhildur said and raced at him, their sword pointing forward in a sharp jab.

They fought like that for a good while. Frederich's lungs burned and his throat felt raw from every staunch intake of air. But his smile stretched from ear to ear as they sparred. Radhildur too seemed enthralled, their golden gaze sharp and burning. The intensity of every move was deliberate and they always calculated their strength with precision. It was like watching a performer, practised in poised art. 

The duel ended when Frederich collapsed onto the ground, unable to stand any more. He wheezed and laughed, sinking into the grass as Radhildur stood above him, their sword pointed at his chest and foot planted firmly on his torso—there was no desire in him to move. He was perfectly content. 

“I yield,” he smiled. 

Radhildur dropped their sword, and reached out a hand. Frederich grabbed hold and instead of allowing himself to be hauled to his feet, he pulled Radhildur down. 

Gracelessly, the heir fell, tumbling rather dramatically once they realized what was happening. 

Together they laid side by side like that for quite some time, bodies heaving, breathing loud. Frederich's hand found Radhildur’s and their fingers laced together naturally, as if they were always meant to fit together. 

“You're a terrible swordsman,” Radhildur huffed. 

“Okay, sure,” Frederich acquiesced, amused. “Give me a real sword next time if you want a challenge.”

“As the winner, I want to kiss you again,” Radhildur said, not missing a beat.

Frederich felt the flush along his neck and bridge of nose deepen. “I want you to kiss me again too.”

And to Radhildur’s defense, they were there in an instant. They sat up, tugging Frederich to follow in suit. With a calloused hand along his jaw, they guided him into their lap, and he eagerly followed. It was so easy to love Radhildur. Perhaps like their banter, their physicality equally slotted against one another. It was all hot gasps and hands constantly searching one another. 

Frederich found he liked the bevel of their scar against the ridge of his tongue. 

Radhildur seemed to favor scraping their teeth along the underside of his jaw.

There was no one to disrupt them this time.