Chapter 163: The Warmonger
The following four years, Prince Conrad and Princess Evanna were not as consistent in meeting up; it was only until Evanna turned twelve that they would see each other all summer long. But that winter, the winter the Prince turned sixteen, he was discarded onto the battlefield where his name became more well known among the ’Black Knights’ and enemy alike. The Demon Child became the Demon Prince, who fought mercilessly until his golden hair was coated in blood.
It was known that King Horik was rapacious and relentless in his need to rule over more lands. He was making his moves on a few smaller kingdoms using the ’Black Knights’ who were the dangerous outcasts of the royal ’Golden Army of the North’; Prince Conrad was to learn from the battles and use what he was taught from his teachers and leading them to victory. While the Demon Prince and his ’Black Knights’ continued to fight over the smaller kingdoms, the Crown Prince Arvid was leading the golden army in a much larger war against a neighbouring kingdom, nearly matching Hatherland’s size.
King Horik, the warmonger who had participated happily in his battles over the years, for the first time, stayed in Hatherland in fear that all he had worked for would perish if he did not protect what was his. While Hatherland was growing in size and Prince Conrad fought to survive with his men, Princess Evanna had her own battlefield to deal with. Though Evanna was not covered in blood or holding a sword, she was already growing accustomed to the lies and deceit of court life. If it wasn’t the constant battle of noble children pointing their fingers, and calling her names, then it was their parents who were all part of the Queen’s posse. But the name-calling and bullying was nothing new to Evanna; what she was starting to grow thicker skin against were the threats and assassination attempts.
At the age of fourteen, Evanna started to take small doses of well-known poisons after being poisoned four times in four years. She couldn’t quite understand the point of trying to kill her because she was not in the run for the throne; unlike Hatherland and other kingdoms, only a male heir could take the throne. Now, she had two surprisingly sweet half-brothers she hoped would never fight for the throne. But with Queen Eleanor’s blood running through their veins, she couldn’t tell just yet if that would be the case.
Evanna was up and roaming through the palace of Dunhurst at sunup when the servants were just starting their first chores. She was quick in her steps as she dashed through the secret passageways until she was outside in the fresh morning air; her boots marched through the courtyards until she was at the training grounds of the knights. Dressed in her black breeches and shirt, her long raven hair pulled back into a ponytail, she traipsed over to where she found Ger already attacking a wooden standstill dummy with his sword.
Evanna stopped for a moment to watch his powerful moves, both in awe and appreciation. Lately, there had been something about her friend, a certain brightness behind his eyes and strength behind the way he spoke. He turned down her attempts at sneaking away or having fun. The only time she’d seen him was either through their practise where they’d only greet each other or if she’d sighted him falling asleep at her tree, waiting after a long day to try and speak with her.
Evanna knew something was bothering him; it was in every stroke of his sword. It was almost like he was trying to prove himself not only to those around them but to himself too. It saddened her to see Ger think so low of himself; she hoped that he didn’t take it to heart too much about the title stripped away from them. Yet, she could not fathom what he was going through; as a child, he was too young to understand, and now at sixteen, he was fighting through his frustrations. The only thing she could do was support him.
The Princess shook her head and walked away from Ger, who was too focused on fighting an imaginable opponent, and so she went to collect her bow and arrows, setting herself up for a good training session. She’d become quite the expert archer and now was running and shooting, turning and aiming to release her arrow, along with other stunts that made her father roll his eyes. He kept telling her she didn’t need such skills, rolling around with a bow, but he never mocked or degraded her for it. Not like her sister or the Queen, who helped spread the rumours of the ’manly princess’.
A few hours passed, and she finally lowered her bow, her shoulder blades and arms tight and aching, her hair sticking to her neck from her slightly misted face.
"Princess? Good morning," Evanna turned around to see Ger approaching her, his features also sweaty and the bangs on his forehead sticking to his face. "You should have told me you were here I would have-"
Evanna waved her hand dismissively. "There is no need to be formal with me, Ger. How many times must I say this?" She smiled gently before turning around and putting her bow away.
Ger cleared his throat from behind her. "Evanna.." He gained her attention again, and she stopped, blinking up at him. "In the near future.. I will be leaving the palace."