Page 30 of Winter Gods & Serpents

“Careful now,” Sam murmured in warning. “You know what these people hate the most, don’t gather a crowd of enemies so soon.”

“Chickens that coo too loud have their necks snaped first, Sam, I worry not.”

The generals proceeded next, reporting on their numbers and weaponry as though war was nearing. Not surprised at the updates, Isjordians had won their riches and status for their tactics, war theories and wise military decisions, being prepared was their best front. Except the night they let Adriata march in their homes killing thousands including its queen and heirs they were not.

The captains then reported on rising petty crimes and the condition of their respective city borders. Kirkwall and Arynth had more to report, their borders were the ones surrounded by the Highwall. If you were to ask me, it was one of my father’s least stupid decisions from his thirty years as a king, one that came too late, but it gave me a small satisfaction to know those barbaric creatures were locked with themselves and their spirituality.

Sam and the other two generals chatted amongst each other regarding vandals that had raided the northern villages and a two-day expedition towards another that sat by the edge of the Islines before entering the lands of the Krigborn line nestling there.

“Could I join you?” I asked and the two generals were sent onto laughing fits. Sam now looking at me in worry.

“Meaning no offence, Your Highness. A princess is surely to be out of place amongst soldiers and most out of place amongst vandals,” Clar, the white haired younger one said, still laughing and I certainly took offence in what he said.

Gabriel, the other general, looked me up and down before saying, “You are certainly no soldier, Your Highness, and we do not take decorations in our expeditions, we are faced with a lot of bad people.”

Such condescending mocking tones would usually send my fist flying on someone's face but this one grew flutters of anticipation in my stomach. I leaned onto my seat assessing the satisfied general.

“Well, they allow hogs,” I said pointing to him. “Certainly, I shan't be an issue, you see I am much nibbler and can see behind me without having to make a full spin,” I teased, gesturing my finger in a circle.

The general paled and straightened his uniform almost offended. His features irate at my disrespect but he would not speak, throwing glances between myself and other who had now turned and carefully listened to our conversation. Father was well aware that I was no decorative princess by any means, but I knew he did not want me to prove that to anyone. To him that was an invitation to defy.

Defying was my purpose, however. “How about we test a theory tomorrow, that of my decorative purposes, training court? The hog spars the decoration?” I asked the general.

The room grew in loud laughter, but it was not at my remark, my courage even to challenge him was hilarious to them. They often found hilarity in those that dared.

“That attitude, princess, will not take you far. You expect me to believe your sparring is as good as your banter?”

“Yes, your fragile ego is at stake.”

His mouth pursed, nostrils flaring in offence that he’d taken too much at heart. “Let's say we indulge in this bravado of yours and I win, you will have to get rid of your presence from these meetings and your nose out of this kingdom's business,” he challenged.

Isjordians dislike for me had always been noticeable, but what surprised me was his nerve to speak with such spitefulness and disrespect to a royal with their king in presence at that. But then my father did like for me to be disregarded like that, for me to be put in my place, for me to be disliked. He did not have to try at all for that part, I would do those honours myself. He was a general well trained and massive and I was smaller, nimble and a woman, untrained in his eyes. His odds appeared to be in his favour by this point, but I nodded in acceptance.

“And if I win, you will hand your post to me, along with those lovely circlets,” I said, pointing to the top of his breast pocket.

He rumbled with uproarious laughter all mirth from prognosis of my failure. He cast a confirming glance to his king and then nodded. “A deal that is.”

I nodded. “Pleasure to have dealt with you.”

He stood like many did and murmured for only me to hear. “I will give you another scar to match.”

I flashed him a smile. “My vanity is hard to injure, yours impossible.”

After the meeting ended, my father asked me to stay behind, he waited for everyone to exit and stared at me in silence for a few very long moments.

“Words father, I do not read minds,” I said rolling my eyes, he was clearly angry at me.

“You are aware you entered a bargain you will not win. Gabriel is one of my generals therefore if not one of my best soldiers, not very smart on your behalf to offend him either. He will take retribution for the disrespect,” he said, folding his hands on top of the table leaning forward.

And he would let him. That was how he intended to end that sentence.

“And I father, your daughter, if not your best one.” I stood and made for the doors. “You shall know I don’t make unfavourable bargains or promises.”

Chapter 9

Ravens and Omens

Snowlin