Chapter 3: The Lady and Her Unicorn

EGORAVEN: HEIR OF THE FIRST UNICORN - The Novelization adaptation of the comic series

Church bells rang throughout the morning, adding to the bustle as the denizens of Doornham awoke to welcome the day and the festivities it heralded. There were no knights in shining armor on parade, but the streets were no less colorful and busy.

Even more flags and banners fluttered in the breeze and merchants took up every space they could to set up their booths overflowing with wares from drink to food to more utilitarian items. Every citizen came out to enjoy the break from routine, in the end, not really caring why, so long as a good time was had by all. It was a time for merriment and kinship. Time to see and be seen.

Being seen was the last thing Egoraven wanted as she followed Morgan to the archery grounds. The fox wasn’t as cranky, but he still made it obvious he wasn’t exactly happy to be in the presence of the unicorn girl, especially with the attention she was garnering.

As people continued to gossip and stare, Egoraven made the best of the situation by smiling, waving, and encouraging any small conversation that would prove that she meant no harm. It helped that Johar’s fanciful runaway bride story seemed to have spread quickly, as people weren’t as suspicious but remained cautious just the same. The even thicker crowds made Egoraven glad that Amadaeo decided for more quiet surroundings, taking his chances in the sheep fields rather than risk another humiliating round of deliveries.

Egoraven self-consciously stood aside, brushing out the new tunic and pants Johar purchased for her. She watched Morgan fuss with his bow and quiver while also observing the other archers around them. Luckily, they were engrossed in their own preparations to worry about the fox’s strange companion. Not knowing what to do with herself, Egoraven allowed her mind to wander to places other than where she was now.

“You’re not thinking about what happened the other night again, are you?” Morgan asked as he warmed up.

She felt herself blush, surprised that Morgan was indeed paying some attention to her. “Amadaeo said I somehow linked with Blackavar to see what he was seeing.” Her ears twitched. “How I wish I didn’t.” Egoraven let out a tired sigh as she wiped her eyes, still feeling drained by the lack of sleep she blamed on the vision but was just as likely caused by her not being used to the constant din of a city that didn’t seem to sleep either.

“Who is Blackavar?” the fox continued.

Egoraven perked at the name. “My brother,” she answered. “My half-brother, actually,” she added, trying not to confuse him.

Morgan squinted as he pulled the string of the bow, satisfied with its tension. “Does he look like you?”

“No. He’s full Arisyan—er—unicorn, like Amadaeo.”

Morgan squinted again, this time at her words, his ears flicking. “You sound like you have a weird-looking family.”

Egoraven didn’t know what to make of the comment. As Morgan inspected the fletching on his arrows, she went back to observe the crowd. Commoners continued excitedly waiting for the archery contest to begin, whether to compete, prepare the targets, or watch from the sidelines. A particular small crowd had gathered, with men pointing at various archers, especially in their direction, and exchanging money. Morgan had bragged about sweeping the contests, and it seemed many of the mortals believed the same.

As she scanned the faces, a small gasp escaped as she came across a trio of young men. For a split second, she made eye contact with their hateful glares, causing her to wince and look away. Even trying not to look at them again, Egoraven could feel their stares boring into her, finding a new appreciation for those who would whisper and then go about their business. She turned her back on them, finding Morgan completely oblivious.

“Those men have been staring at us the whole time,” Egoraven whispered to him, concerned. Morgan’s ears flattened.

“Those aren’t men. Those are the Brewer boys,” he replied, annoyed, without stopping what he was doing. “They’re the local assholes. We’ve been having problems with them for a while now.”

“Problems?” Egoraven started to get nervous.

“Seems they don’t like a lot of things, especially doubans.” He sucked his teeth. “Watch out for the tall one. That’s Raymond. His brothers are Michael and Nelson. They pretty much copy what he does, except they do it hiding behind him.”

Egoraven resisted the urge to look back. “What kind of problems do they make?” she asked, worried.

Morgan waved a dismissive hand. “They like to think they’re tough, but it’s all posturing. But it’s still annoying as fuck, though. At least they don’t come by The Coal Horse anymore.”

“Any more?”

The fox gave an impish grin. “Yeah, Daniel nipped that in the bud real quick. You should have seen that fight.”

Egoraven became intrigued. “Really? I didn’t take Daniel for having a temper.” She found it difficult to imagine the seemingly mild-mannered blacksmith getting angry, much less angry enough to fight anyone.

 “Raymond didn’t think so either. Serves him right for ever thinking Daniel was an easy target.” Morgan chuckled. “But look on the bright side. They’re not the only ones watching us.”

At that moment, Egoraven noticed the group Morgan was referring to. Several women, looking more upscale than their rustic counterparts, casually walked the grounds, giggling, pointing, and cooing to each other. One in particular, a petite blonde in a silver and gold embroidered dress, peered in their direction without trying to look like she was staring. “Who are they?” Egoraven asked, turning away from their gaze.

“Damned if I know,’ the fox answered. “Probably noblewomen touring to see how the other half lives. They spend so much time in their palaces and country manors, us lower folk become entertainment just for existing.”

The crier for the archery contest called out, startling the unicorn. All heads around her popped up and focused on his announcement. People hanging around the perimeter sprang into action, running to take what was left of the choice places to watch.

“They’re about to make the call to the ring.” Morgan arranged the last of his arrows into the quiver. “You better get into the stands.”

Egoraven looked apprehensively at the makeshift grandstand, spying on some empty spaces in the rabble. “Maybe I should stay here.”

Morgan gave her a crooked look. “Why? You said you wanted to watch the contests. The stands are the best place to do it.”

“But there’s so many people…” Her ears drooped.

The fox began gathering his things. “Would you rather stay hidden away in The Coal Horse, dwelling on your vision? You can’t be afraid of everything, you know.”

As Egoraven was about to protest further, another, more direct call came from the crier. “All archers to the field!” The command triggered a wave as all the contestants began to make their way. Morgan gave her one last, impatient look.

“Well, I’m going whether you’re in the stands or not. You can make your own decision,” he tersely replied.

Egoraven did not follow, watching him meld into the pack. “I can’t believe a mortal half my size has more sense than I do,” she spoke to herself as she turned and forced herself towards the stands.

Before the contest, an exhibition was staged first, with several archers highlighting their skill with the bow and arrow by performing various tricks—splitting arrows with another arrow, shooting blindfolded, and even shooting targets balanced on the heads of volunteers. The crowd cheered in awe, with Egoraven finding them quite nerve-wracking, hoping that no one got hurt enough for her to present her own healing services. Fortunately, the performance went without any issues, and the unicorn applauded the men who bowed before the audience.

Egoraven glanced at the empty spaces around her on the bleachers, aware of how people were purposefully sitting away from her. She felt self-conscious, being openly shunned, yet glad that she had the room not to feel so cramped where she sat. The crier announced the start of the contest.

It started with a line of archers, most of them human with some doubans mixed in, but none of them stood out more than the diminutive fox. After waving to the audience, the mood quickly changed as they all fell into the seriousness of what they were trying to accomplish. In a flash, a torrent of arrows hurled at the hay targets lined up against a high wall where the more adventurous, if not outright careless, members of the hoi polloi cheered from their perches, risking a stray arrow without thought.

Judges looked over the targets, weeding out the archers that either missed completely or were not close enough to move on to the next round.

As Egoraven clapped, the seats around her began to slowly fill.

Several more rounds continued the same way—a volley of shots followed by the scrutiny of judges, ending with the disappointment of being escorted off the field. What started as a large group of entrants slowly whittled down until the lucky few remained. The more archers were disqualified, the closer the contest got to choosing a winner, and the more people crowded into the spaces that were left around the unicorn girl. The need to cheer on their favorites and be seated while doing so was more important than whatever superstition they may have held.

The suspense was thick as the roster was narrowed down to three—two humans and a fox half their height. The gamblers from before exchanged money furiously as the marketgoers joined in and jammed themselves around the field.

The humans made a show of their turns, exaggerating their study of the wind and the distance of the targets, milking the excitement of the audience, and building Morgan’s irritation as he waited impatiently for them to be done with the performance they insisted on. The first man took his shot, his arrow earning disgruntled murmurs from the crowd as it landed just outside the center circle. But he didn’t count himself out yet. All he had to do was to be better than the two who followed him.

The second man carefully took aim and let his arrow loose, his luck better than the first. The crowd rewarded the shot with hesitant cheers as the arrow not only met its mark but was close enough to the center to be considered champion if there wasn’t one more contestant to split the difference. With a boastful smile, the man winked at the fox, who scrunched his nose at him as he readied his bow.

Morgan studied his target, realizing he was not left with much room for error. A slight breeze could push the arrow just enough for him to come in second, a position he did not intend to end up in. Swishing his tail, he notched his arrow and raised his bow.

Egoraven clenched her hands in excited suspense as she and the people tightly surrounding her fell silent and held their breaths.

Committed to his focus, Morgan released the bowstring.

The arrow cut the air with a whistle and landed with a dramatic thunk into the painted straw bale, barely scraping the shaft of the arrow next to it. In an explosive roar, the crowd popped to their feet, cheering their little champion as he pranced on his toes, waving to his admirers. The men watching from the corner let out a combination of exuberant hurrahs and disappointed groans as money exchanged hands one last time.

Even long after the end of the contest released its horde, the streets, side alleys, and main center plaza remained thick with people, continuing their day visiting the many market stalls scattered throughout the city. The unicorn and fox idly made their way through the throngs, by this point, most being too distracted by their own errands to notice the odd pair.

Morgan walked with a straight back and an extra bounce in his step as he toyed with a silken ribbon around his neck. Egoraven followed proudly beside him.

“A silver arrowhead! Your skills with a bow truly are unmatched,” she replied.

“And aren’t you glad you sat in the stands to marvel at it?” he answered back, basking in the glow of her flattery. They both chuckled.

A familiar scent made Morgan’s nostrils flare and his ears perk up, causing him to lick his lips hungrily. Across from where they walked was a colorful stall, its confection sign seeming to teasingly flutter just for him. Even from where they were, he could see the rainbow rows of candies enticing him to come closer, but as he set his eyes on the small carton of red fish shapes, the irresistible siren call could not be denied.

“Go on ahead. I’ll catch up.”

Egoraven was a little surprised. She thought their stroll was going so well, and now he wanted her to go away. “Are you sure?”

The fox answered in a distracted tone as if the stall would disappear between glances. “Yeah. Don’t worry about me. Go enjoy yourself or something.”

She gave him a smile and shrugged. “Okay. I’ll meet you later, then.” Morgan waved her off. The fox waited until she disappeared into the crowd, then jumped towards the confection stall. The matronly proprietor grinned when she saw him point excitedly at the fish-shaped candies. “The red ones look really good.” He licked his lips again.

“They taste even better,” the matron answered as she prepared a small satchel.

“I’ll take a bagful,” Morgan answered as his tail wagged, watching her grab a handful of the fish.

Egoraven continued her stroll, watching people go about their day, fascinated by all the different items being sold. It was one thing to have everything available at the call of a servant, but it was another to see where the items, in fact, came from, even stopping to observe the craftspeople making them. She understood why the noblewomen would take the detour from their stay at the duke’s castle high on the hill.

A hard jostle and a sharp pain in her arm snapped her from her daydreaming as she caught a man on purpose jabbing his elbow into her. “Hey, watch it!” Egoraven snapped.

“Watch where you’re going, horse-face,” he spat back.

Spinning her head, she caught just enough of a glance as he passed for Morgan’s words to pop into her head. Watch out for the tall one. That’s Raymond. She felt a tingling at the back of her neck.

Pleased with his purchase, Morgan slipped into an empty alleyway, taking a perch on a closed water waste barrel. The smell of the candy was intoxicating, and he couldn’t fumble open the bag fast enough. His nose twitched as he breathed in the smell of gelatinized sugar and lingonberries, trying to decide which one of the red fish would have the honor of going first. Plucking one, he gave it a lick and then let it melt on his tongue, savoring the flavor as he swung his feet, elated.

“Well, look at what we got here. A not so sly fox.”

The voice killed whatever euphoria Morgan was getting from the candy, and he resentfully swallowed it, his moment ruined. Ears pinning, he stared out the corner of his eye at the three figures in the alley with him.

“Piss off, Raymond,” Morgan snarled. They chuckled at the response, snapping their hands at each other and pointing.

“Tough words coming from a rat,” Raymond sneered. “Saw your nag back there. Daniel is really putting together a whole collection of freaks at his place.”

Morgan let out a growl. “Why don’t you come over to The Coal Horse and tell him that yourself? I wouldn’t mind watching you get your ass kicked again.”

The Brewer brothers shuffled uncomfortably at the memory of the incident. “Fuck Daniel,” Raymond continued. “He just got lucky.” They stepped closer to the fox. “We don’t appreciate your kind ruining our fair city.”

Tucking his bag away, Morgan turned to face them. “Funny, I was just thinking the same about you. You better go before you make things worse.” Digging his claws into the barrel, he braced himself, hoping they would indeed leave. Instead, the conversation ended as the eldest brother rushed forward, grabbing the fox by the throat and slamming him into the wall.

“You’ve already made it worse, you stupid dob,” Raymond yelled as Nelson and Michael egged him on.

Running on sugar and pure instinct, Morgan snarled and sank his teeth into the arm that held him. Raymond screeched, the bite not the response he was expecting. He released the hold and snatched his arm away.

“Now, I’ve made it worse!” Morgan yelled back, tasting blood in his mouth. He would have to deal with the consequences later.

 “You’re not going to be worth making into a coat once we’re done with you.” Raymond grabbed the front of his tunic with his good hand as his brothers flanked the barrel, boxing in the fox.

Morgan winced as the grip yanked fabric and fur alike. “I got dibs on the tail,” he heard one of them mutter, not caring which.

“Get your hands off Morgan, NOW!”

The scuffle ended just as quickly as it started, the three brothers completely taken by surprise at not only being attacked by a unicorn girl, but by how hard she genuinely punched. Having had enough, they scrambled out of the alleyway as startled passers-by stared at their escape. Egoraven stood at the entrance of the alley, indignant with her hands on her hips but looking no worse for wear. In fact, nothing of her demeanor even hinted that she exerted any effort, much less being in the middle of a brawl.

Morgan picked himself up from the ground, clutching his neck as he reeled with too many emotions at once. Egoraven rushed to his side. “Are you okay?” she asked with concern. “They didn’t hurt you, did they? I can heal you if you need—”

The fox waved a still-shaking hand at her. “I’m fine,” he quietly answered, sadly shuffling through the mess beneath him. “My sweets didn’t fare so well, though. We better go before the guards come.” The bag, having fallen during the fight, left a trail of squashed gelatin fish smelling of dirt-ground lingonberries around a bent silver arrowhead on a snapped ribbon. Morgan couldn’t decide which upset him more.

The candies a lost cause, he picked up the decorative arrowhead, trying to return the tip back into shape. At least Johar would know how to fix it properly. “Promise me you won’t tell Daniel about this.” He handed the ribbon to Egoraven, who gladly placed it back around his neck.

“About the Brewer boys?” she asked, realizing the clasp was broken as well.

“About the candy.” Morgan gave an embarrassed grimace. “Daniel doesn’t like it when I ruin my appetite and don’t eat his food.”

Egoraven gently smiled at him as she completed a knot that would at least hold until they returned to the forge. She stood up and held out her hand to him. “Of course.”

Gathering his bow and quiver, Morgan took her hand. “Thank you,” he answered, returning her smile.

* * *

After the excitement of the last several days, the unicorn princess found herself desperate for any semblance of routine. Still not knowing what to do in terms of the kingdom she could not return to, the least she could do was throw herself into any work possible, especially anything that would help the three men who welcomed her and her uncle in.

If the stable needed to be cleaned, Egoraven was mucking stalls. If supplies needed to be picked up, she learned where the merchants were so she would not get so lost in the maze of the city. Laundry was collected and handed to the washerwomen. If any part of The Coal Horse needed to be tidied or the inventory organized, she did that, too. However, she was incredibly relieved to find that the chore of discarding the refuse from the outdoor privy fell to a particular guild that specialized in such unsavory duties, even if prepping the used buckets for pickup and cleaning them afterward was a challenge in of itself.

Egoraven’s odd strength also manifested in an equally odd way. One of Morgan’s regular duties was to link and rivet chainmail, a tedious undertaking for anyone, but his small, clawed hands made him more suited for the task. Decorative chainmail was easier as the metal links just needed to be closed together. But chainmail made for actual combat had the extra step of each ring needing to be reinforced by a hammered locking pin. Egoraven was able to do both with her hoof-like fingers, bending the iron rings and, if necessary, pinching the pins in place—no hammer or pliers needed. Almost immediately, Morgan abandoned his responsibility to the unicorn girl, much to the chagrin of Johar and Daniel. But even they had to admit, having her do it was much faster, with the bonus of not having to hear the fox grumbling the entire time.

Morgan listened to the tinkle of the bell as the door to the shop opened. Busy writing in the ledger, the fox did not look up, instead glancing enough to see a figure draped in red but no other detail. “I’ll be with you in a minute,” he replied. “I just need to finish here.”

A patient, feminine voice answered. “No need to rush. I was told a unicorn woman resides here. I am to deliver something on behalf of my lady.”

Trying to keep the numbers from jumbling in his head, Morgan continued his record-keeping. “Egoraven is busy. I can give it to her for you.”

He listened to the shuffle of a dress and the soft tap of a hard heel. “Yes, I suppose I could give it to you, but I would much rather hand it to her myself.”

Annoyed at the insistence, no matter how gentle, he hoped to pressure the woman to give up whatever it was and leave him to his work. Egoraven was not a carnival animal to be gawked at in exchange for trinkets, and he did not look forward to that becoming a habit. As he looked up, whatever scolding he was about to give vanished.

Standing before him was an elegant woman in a crisp riding suit of scarlet and golden ochre. The quality of both her look and dress made it inconceivable to confuse her with just another commoner. Not only was it obvious she was part of a noble’s court, but the other thing that made it impossible to confuse her for anything ordinary was the curved ivory horn sprouting from above her brow. As Morgan stared slack-jawed, she swished a lion-like tail sporting a tuft as ebony as her shoulder-length hair, her painted lips curving into a small smile.

Another skill Egoraven utilized that was also greatly appreciated was her ability to calm nervous steeds. Nothing was more unpleasant than a high-strung lord with an even higher-strung horse needing a shoe replaced. But with a calm hand, a calmer voice, and, on occasion, a little bit of magic, Egoraven was able to keep even the most ill-tempered animal distracted. Unfortunately, the same could not be said about their owners.

“Just a little bit longer, old girl.” Daniel took the nail he held between his lips and tapped it through the shoe into the hoof he braced with his knees. The greying palomino mare snorted and shuffled but allowed the blacksmith to do his work as Egoraven cradled the horse’s head and whispered soothing words in her ears. “There you go, Nina. Good as new.” He gave the horse’s rump a pat.

Egoraven took over, giving the mare a massage, and paying special attention to her joints. Nina let out a long sigh at the touch disappearing her aches. “I’m sorry I can’t completely heal her,” Egoraven commented to Daniel apologetically. “The shock of that much magic might end up making everything worse.”

“Especially in such an old girl, right?” Daniel scratched the horse’s whiskered chin as he continued cooing at her, the mare nickering in return. “But at least she’ll be able to move for a while without as much pain. I’ve had Nina since I was little. I’m not giving up on her yet.” He smoothed out the silvery forelock. “See, Nina? I even got a unicorn to take care of you. Nothing but the best for my old girl.” Egoraven and Daniel giggled as Amadaeo dozed just outside the stable.

Morgan appeared in the doorway, his eyes oddly wide. “Egoraven has a visitor.”

The simple comment brought everyone to concerned attention, especially Amadaeo, who shook off his slumber and promptly took his place at his niece’s side. Even Johar made his way from the forge to get a look at who might be calling. Egoraven began to feel nervous. Who could possibly be asking for her?

 The unicorn woman in scarlet entered the stable. “I am delivering this on behalf of Lady Alexandria of Dallyn. It is an invitation to tomorrow’s banquet and tournament.” Everyone could do nothing but stare as she held out a wax-sealed envelope in perfectly manicured hands.

Egoraven timidly stepped forward, her mind racing with all the questions she wanted to ask. “Thank you,” was the only thing she was barely able to say. The woman continued to smile politely, not reacting at all to the reception she was receiving. The blacksmiths and the unicorns gawked at the invitation. Cracking the seal, Egoraven unfolded the parchment, revealing elaborate writing confirming what the unusual messenger had said.

Daniel hooked his thumb into his apron, chuffed at Egoraven’s luck. “I’ve been filling commissions for the noble houses for years, and I’ve never gotten an invite.”

Amadaeo was not as impressed. He stepped forward. “I apologize to your lady, but Egoraven declines…”

“Tell your lady that I would be honored to accept,” Egoraven interrupted, placing a hand on Amadaeo’s neck. “And I would be even more honored if you tell me you will be there as well.” Egoraven couldn’t take her eyes off this striking beauty, looking like her, but not quite, as she reached out and took a very human, sun-kissed hand.

The woman gave a curtsy. “Fear not,” she answered. “I will be waiting for you at tourney.”

Amadaeo shook his head. “Accept? Fighting with local ruffians is a matter easily ignored, but risk offending heads of state…”

Johar interceded. “She is going to tournament, not stage a diplomatic incident.”

Egoraven heard none of this as her thoughts were elsewhere, her cheeks a rosy glow.

“Then I must insist on accompanying you,” Amadaeo replied.

“Your presence will honor us all.” The woman let go of Egoraven’s hand and bowed to the elder unicorn. “Now, excuse me. I must take my leave.”

“So soon?” Egoraven asked, crestfallen. “At least leave me your name.”

The woman fluttered her eyes. “My name is Orchid.” With a last curtsey and a swish of her own tail, she made her way out of the stable without turning back, leaving the entire group dumbstruck.

Daniel folded his arms. “Wow. At least we know you’re not the only one.”

“I wonder where she came from,” Johar added.

Amadaeo gave an aggrieved snort. “Don’t be so amazed. She’s not even a real unicorn.”

Egoraven turned with shock on her face. “How do you know?” she asked, kneading the invitation in her hands, the last pieces of the wax seal crumbling to the floor.

“How do I know?” Amadaeo was appalled at the question. “I would like to think I am an expert on the subject!” The stallion jumped before her, making sure he had Egoraven’s complete attention. “Do you realize what you are doing? We have been lucky that nothing worse than a scuffle has happened to us so far. We are already in a precarious situation as is!”

Holding the wrinkled invitation to her face, Egoraven cringed, and her ears drooped. “I’m already in a worse situation,” she whined.

“Why? What is wrong?”

“I have absolutely nothing to wear!”

Even though Egoraven meant the declaration in all seriousness, Daniel and Johar laughed while Amadaeo couldn’t believe she was going to go through with this farce.

Daniel put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. “I have a tailor friend on Stitcher’s Row. I’m sure we can find something suitable on such short notice.”

The stallion grunted, giving the blacksmith a side-eye. Daniel just shrugged. Whatever Egoraven was getting herself into, they were all getting into it together.

* * *

Duke Mercer’s castle sat at the top of a hill overlooking the city, a series of fortified walls and thick tree growth separating it further from the rest of Doornham. The trail was deceptive, seeming as if it would not take long to reach the entrance at first glance, but instead of going straight up, it winded and meandered.

“I can’t believe I allowed Johar to talk me into wearing this… thing.” Amadaeo shook his head, trying to adjust the woven collar around his neck. Dangling from it was a decorative medal that sparkled with every step. The unicorn couldn’t decide if he preferred the delivery harness to this gaudy object.

“It’s very pretty on you,” Egoraven answered as she smoothed out the matching blue suit she was wearing. “You look like one of those little tapestries I see in the shops.”

The unicorn rolled his eyes. “I don’t understand humans at all. On one hand, they fear us, but on the other, they put our images on everything.” It had not escaped him that unicorn portraits have become more prevalent among the merchants since their arrival. “And if I get one more maiden asking to touch my horn…” He let out an annoyed whinny.

Egoraven giggled. “You should learn to enjoy the attention. It’s better than the people who threaten to loose their dogs on us.”

With the sounds of incoming carriages behind them, the two unicorns moved to the edge of the road to give them a wide berth. Each carriage that had passed before meant staring eyes, and these were no different. From the drivers to the guards to the ladies inside, everyone had to get their look at the unicorn and unicorn girl. Amadaeo paid them no mind, but Egoraven couldn’t help but be self-conscious, hoping that one day she would get over the feeling.

“Amadaeo, have you seen how the people look at us as they pass?”

“Everyone looks at us,” he answered.

 “No—not like this.” Egoraven fussed with her hair, retying the ribbon that held it back. “We’re the only ones walking to Duke Mercer’s castle.”

What a princess she was turning out to be when she couldn’t even remember the most basic etiquette, especially the one about not arriving at a noble lord’s party on foot.

Finally reaching the castle, they walked through ornately decorative iron gates and past the many carriages they recognized from their hike. The closer the unicorns got, the more everyone fixated on them, culminating in the hardest glare from the attendant in colorful clothing at the door.

Clearing her throat, Egoraven spoke. “We are here as guests of Lady Alexandria.” She held out the pathetically wrinkled invitation only for it to be snatched impatiently out of her hands. She felt under her collar get hot.

“We’re not even through the door…” Amadaeo scowled low enough for only Egoraven to hear.

After studying the script, the attendant returned the invitation. “Welcome to the house of Duke Mercer of Doornham,” he cooly answered.

 Egoraven blushed, feeling the opposite of welcome.

Entering the foyer, the unicorns found themselves surrounded by lavishly dressed partygoers, who turned their heads but just as quickly went back to their conversations. They weren’t even in the great hall yet, but every corner and corridor was crowded with people.

“Where is this Lady Alexandria who was so courteous to abandon us to this fate?” Amadaeo commented.

Egoraven craned her head to get a better look through the crowd, trying to find a familiar face. “I’m wondering more where Orchid is. You would think she would stand out in a place like this.”

The unicorn scoffed. “Oh, you mean like us?”

They walked further in, with Egoraven lighting up at the sight of a scarlet dress with gold ochre accents. “Orchid…” she said out loud, tempering her excitement.

The ebony-haired unicorn woman excused herself from the charms of one of the nobles, but he did not look disappointed as she left him to the rest of the banquet.

“I was afraid you were going to be convinced not to come,” Orchid laughed as she tucked a small note into her bodice.

“Nothing could keep me from seeing you again,” Egoraven replied, smiling widely.

Orchid gave a playful sucking sound and waved a finger. “Aren’t you the charmer,” she purred, then gestured with her hand. “Follow me to the tournament grounds. I’m sure you will find yourselves much more comfortable outside instead of this crowded hall.” They turned, expecting to see Amadaeo still behind them, only to realize the unicorn had wandered off.

Along one wall, they saw a gathering at one of the many side tables overflowing with food. Several lords and ladies had surrounded the stallion, studying what he was choosing and what he was leaving behind. As he moved on to tasting the next dish, they filled their plates with whatever the unicorn was eating. She could see Amadaeo speaking to his human audience, who listened with rapt attention, nodded, and then followed the unicorn’s culinary recommendations.

Egoraven chuckled at the scene. “Looks like Amadaeo has found his place.”

Orchid smiled. “As long as he likes the food, I’m sure he won’t mind unintentionally being the banquet’s official taster.”

As they walked towards the courtyard, a voice called out from the din of the festivity. “Oh! You’ve finally arrived!”

Egoraven followed Orchid’s lead in looking behind at a petite blond woman in a silver dress rushing towards them. Her ears pointed forward as she recognized the dress and the woman who wore it as one of the touring noblewomen from the other day.

“I could not have refused such an invitation.” Egoraven bowed to the woman, who looked as if she could barely contain her giddiness. “I thank you again for your generosity, Lady…?”

“I am Lady Alexandria Beusaugh of Dallyn,” she replied, fussing with her necklace of gold and silver pearls. “And I’m sure you are already familiar with my lady-in-waiting, Orchid.”

Egoraven felt her face get warm. “Not enough, I must admit.”

Orchid held a small smile.

Lady Alexandria continued to beam. “I apologize if this seems sudden. When I saw you at the commoner archery tournament, I just had to find out who you were.”

“I am honored,” Egoraven answered with another bow.

Alexandria lurched forward, grasping Egoraven’s arm into hers and hugging it possessively. Egoraven jumped, startled at the abrupt manhandling.

“The honor is all mine, Egoraven,” the lady continued, wrapping herself tightly to the puzzled unicorn. “How does all this compare to Edinrahn? What it must be like to be part of the elven court!”

“Er—actually, I’ve found the humans to be a lot more festive.” Egoraven was still unsettled at the woman’s overfamiliar behavior. “Eihdans, uhm, elves can be so formal.”

Orchid had long looked away and was scanning the room, not seeming to find her lady’s behavior at all unusual. “We should return to the stands. Your father will start worrying.”

Alexandria sucked her teeth. “He always worries no matter where I go.”

The trio looked over to see a grey and black unicorn making the rounds, following each servant as they arrived with a new dish and being more than happy to take a bite when offered.

“Should we ask your equally honored companion to join us?” Alexandria asked.

Egoraven adjusted her arm to accommodate the lady who would not let go. “I think it best we let my uncle be for now.”

“Indeed,” Orchid answered. All three of them chuckled at how Amadaeo truly looked like he was enjoying himself.

The sound of trumpets echoed faintly through the busy hall but loud enough to catch the attention of those who were interested in what they signified. “Oh! The jousts are about to begin!” Lady Alexandria chirped. “Those are my favorites.” She pulled on Egoraven’s arm, forcing her to walk.

“Orchid, my dear!” called out an extravagantly dressed noble. “I have been trying to catch you all day.”

The unicorn in scarlet seamlessly turned her attention to the man. “And here you have finally caught me, my dear sir.”

Egoraven looked back, expecting Orchid to excuse herself, but instead, she did not acknowledge their leave to continue her somewhat flirtatious conversation with the noble. Lady Alexandria led the way without even noticing. At the last moment, Orchid finally turned.

“If you would excuse me, my lady. I shall be with you in a moment.”

“Of course,” Alexandria answered, both speaking to each other in a tone that oddly sounded more formal than what they were saying needed.

The walk through the courtyard and to the tournament field was just as crowded as inside the castle, making Egoraven ponder just how many nobles existed in this city, much less the entire kingdom. Flags fluttered loudly in the breeze, adding to the applause coming from the large gathering at the stands. Trumpets blared, followed by the galloping of horses and a crashing sound, ending with excited cheers. Alexandria, still firmly hanging off her arm, led her unicorn consort to one of the lavishly sheltered spectator pavilions.

“Alexandria, I was just about to send someone looking for you,” replied a gruff voice as Alexandria separated enough from Egoraven to open the drapes leading into the already occupied viewing box.

“I told you I was meeting someone and coming back,” she replied with an almost teasing tone as her father kept his eyes on the field before him. Egoraven entered, catching a glance from the blond elder gentleman. “Father, this is Egoraven. A friend.”

Egoraven bowed. “A pleasure to meet you, Lord Beusaugh, sir.”

The greeting was met with another grunt.

The lady took the seat next to her father, and the unicorn joined beside her.

“You certainly know how to find them, Alexandria, don’t you?” Egoraven heard him grumble as Alexandria brushed the comment off.

“They’re starting!” she cried with an excited clap of her hands.

Two heavily armored knights with painted shields and lances urged their equally armored chargers across the field, separated by a decorated low wall. With a great crash, the two opponents met in a hail of shattered wood and cheers. With swiftness, squires replaced each of the lances, and the knights galloped towards each other again to the sound of drummers, heightening the tension with their rhythm.

Egoraven flinched at each impact but also couldn’t take her eyes off the proceedings. Shining armor, magnificent horses in colorful drapings, the thrill of the contest. What wasn’t there to like? She began to understand Rillian’s obsession with them, even if she didn’t understand what exactly was happening. She leaned to the side in her chair.

“Tell me, Lady Alexandria. What are these knights trying to prove with these contests?”

Alexandria could not have been more surprised. “Are you not familiar with them?”

“Not personally,” Egoraven answered, recalling how the elves highly preferred sport that didn’t require them to put themselves so physically on the line. “I have heard stories, but the elves, in general, do not bother with such things.”

“Oh? What do the elves do for fun?” Alexandria asked.

Egoraven thought for a bit. “I remember a lot of parlor games, card playing, and the ladies especially would indulge in racquet games in the gardens. On occasion, a grand hunt would be organized where riding and fencing skills would be displayed, but nothing this… violent.” Another crash of lances made the unicorn jump.

“Oh, how genteel!” Alexandria cooed. “Well, we must look absolutely brutish in comparison.”

Egoraven just smiled.

The lady pointed to the knights as they prepared for another go-around. “It’s the best way for a warrior to build a reputation and align themselves with a powerful lord. But what they are really competing for is the right to reach the finals in the capital of Varcyn where they will compete for King Jason himself. It is every knight’s goal to join the King’s Riders, his personal guard. And only the best knight can be his champion.”

The unicorn found herself ruminating on the explanation.

Another round of cheers waved through the grounds as one of the knights had removed their helm and was parading his steed in front of the pavilions, paying special attention to theirs.

“Look, Alexandria. It’s Cerrik Deanjou,” Lord Beusaugh spoke with the most enthusiasm he had shown so far. His daughter immediately grew sour.

“Yes, it is, father.” She was now the one grumbling.

Before them, on a prancing destrier, strode a strikingly handsome gentleman with golden brown hair matted with sweat but looking no less stately. He smiled as he gave his shattered lance to his squire, keeping his gaze on their pavilion and on Alexandria specifically.

“Is he the tournament favorite?” Egoraven asked.

“More like my father’s favorite,” Alexandria continued to mumble, her once exuberant mood gone.

“Don’t take that tone with me, young lady. He’s only been asking about you again.” Her father turned in his seat to face the pouting girl. “You would do well to make him my son-in-law.”

She sank into her seat and let out an exaggerated sigh. “Please… I’m trying to have a good time.”

“And I’m trying to secure our family’s lineage,” he snapped back.

Egoraven flushed, and her ears drooped in embarrassment at being witness to an obviously private conversation. “I should leave.” She quickly got out of her chair. “My uncle has been by himself for a little too long.”

She barely finished her sentence when Alexandria popped out of her own seat. “I’ll come with you.”

The move enraged Lord Beusaugh. “Don’t leave when I’m trying to discuss something important. I’m of half a mind to just arrange the whole thing, whether you like it or not!”

They ducked back behind the curtain away from the fuming lord. No wonder Johar’s fake story about Egoraven made such an impact.

“I must apologize for my father,” Alexandria spoke, quickly trotting down the stairs. “He’s always trying to get me to pay attention to Cerrik.”

“He seems nice enough,” Egoraven answered, not sure what else to say.

“Nice has nothing to do with it,” the lady flustered. “Our houses combined would make a strong alliance. My father would love nothing more than to see me marry him.” Her voice trailed as she tightly took the unicorn’s hand. “How I wish I could disappear from here.”

Egoraven let out a sigh, deciding it was best to keep quiet.

Back in the main hall that still bustled with people, Amadaeo and Orchid stood conversing to the side, seeming no different from the noblesse who danced, gossiped, and ate around them with aplomb. The stallion perked up at seeing his niece and the silk-haired lady appear in the crowd.

“I was thinking you left without me,” he snorted. “Orchid was kind enough to save me from some insane women.”

Orchid chuckled into her hand.

“They asked me for a piece of my horn. A piece!” Amadaeo continued. “Can you believe the gall?”

Alexandria’s eyes lit up at hearing him speak as Egoraven presented her.

“Amadaeo, this is Lady Alexandria.”

“The honor is all mine, Sir Amadaeo,” she gushed and curtsied before the elder unicorn.

 “Amadaeo is fine,” he nodded. “I have no need for formal titles.”

The unicorn in scarlet turned to her Lady. “I’m surprised you left. Aren’t the jousts your favorite?”

Alexandria again became sullen. “Cerrik Deanjou,” was her only answer as he crossed her arms. Orchid gave an understanding yet not sympathetic look.

“Ah, yes. You would do well to accept before Sir Deanjou outright asks, and your father accepts for you.”

“Don’t you start as well,” Alexandria snapped, on the verge of a tantrum. Orchid gave no reaction.

Egoraven turned to her uncle, cringing at the discomfort of being in the middle of a private matter. “The affairs of humans get complicated easily,” she muttered.

“Especially when they want to make them so,” Orchid casually answered.

“The least my father can do is choose a better partner.” Alexandria balled her small hands into ineffective fists. “Cerrik is hardly my first choice.”

“I do not believe your father would want to know whom you would choose in his stead,” Orchid ribbed back.

Alexandria clenched her jaw until a booming voice calling her name snapped her out of seething and straight into dread. “Oh, no—” She spun around, plastering a huge false grin on her face.

“Cerrik, what a surprise—” she squeaked.

Egoraven stepped back as the knight jaunted up, much taller and broader than she thought under all that armor and thoroughly dwarfing the object of his affections.

“You broke my heart not being in the stands to watch me win for you,” he replied with a deep bow and kissed the top of her hand.

“The heartache is all mine, Cerrik,” Alexandria continued in an obviously affected tone.

Egoraven watched the performance, her ears twitching at the display, unsure Cerrik was aware of Alexandria’s unveiled attempt at repelling him or willfully ignoring it.

Cerrik peered over Alexandria and continued his flattery. “I heard about unicorns in the city, but I had no idea they were with you. But then, it shouldn’t have surprised me.”

“This is Egoraven and Amadaeo from Edinrahn.” She stepped back and gestured to them.

The knight brought his full attention to the unicorns. “Edinrahn? No offense, but I’m sure you know…”

Amadaeo shook his black beard as he finished the thought. “Of the legends? Everyone seems determined to remind us of them.”

Cerrik gave an odd chortle. “All of the magic cannot match with yours, Alexandria.”

Egoraven grimaced at the awkward display he was resolute in forging ahead with.

“Well, it was a pleasure, Cerrik. I’m sure you have other contests to win.” She held a tight smile.

“I am in no rush to be away from you.”

“No, really,” Alexandria sputtered. “You don’t have to stay on my account.”

“Nonsense!” Cerrik blustered. “I cannot allow my lady to go without the charms of her champion.” As he spoke, he puffed out his chest, towering over her even more. Alexandria nervously clutched the main stone of the silver and gold pearl necklace around her neck. It was apparent she was running out of steam keeping up appearances, and he was equally losing his patience.

Orchid, who had been watching nonchalantly the entire time, as if she had seen this many times before, raised a polished nail to her lips, her face now betraying concern. Egoraven arched her brow but said nothing.

 “What do you say, Alexandria?” You have remained too silent on the issue, and I wish an answer from you now. Am I your lord?” Cerrik dropped his ruse, raising his voice loud enough for the hall to go still, demanding all eyes on them.

An uncomfortable pause suddenly choked the group as the knight stared down the lady, everyone holding their breaths as he waited for her to finally reply.

“I am sorry, but I cannot accept,” Alexandria blurted.

There was an equal moment of tense silence as Cerrik stood disbelieving what he just heard.

What is this child doing—? Orchid grasped her mouth.

“Cannot accept?” Cerrik slowly spat out each syllable. “Cannot accept?” He repeated the words with growing anger, which he was trying very hard to control. “After everything I have done in your name?”

“All of which I am eternally grateful for, but—” Alexandria trembled as if physically trying to find the words to diffuse the situation. She glanced at the unicorns watching, and the trembling stopped. “I have already chosen another,” she declared.

For some reason, Egoraven felt a shiver go down her spine and unconsciously swished her tail. This was not going to end well.

Cerrik glared at the girl. “Your father has not spoken to me about another suitor.” The idea of a rival was preposterous and he refused to believe Lord Beusaugh would even entertain such an idea.

“That’s because he doesn’t know yet.”

“Doesn’t know?” Cerrik bared his teeth, rage bubbling behind his eyes. “And who, pray tell, is this champion that you choose over me?”

Alexandria was once again left speechless, and she scrambled for something to say. For anything to say. “My champion… My champion is…” Bracing herself, she gestured behind her. Towards the unicorns. Towards Egoraven.

“My champion is Egoraven of Edinrahn.”

The hall couldn’t have gone more silent if it had been empty. Then came the simultaneous chorus of one word.

“WHAT?” The three unicorns shrieked in horror.

Everything spun as Egoraven felt Alexandria clutching at her suit.

“Yes, Egoraven is my champion, and she will carry my favor.”

Egoraven flailed, stepping away with her hands raised, not wanting to touch the lady. “I have agreed to no such thing!”

“How you play, Alexandria!” Cerrik boomed, his words implying humor but his tone revealing no such thing. “She is a half-beast! A douban! Not even a knight!”

“I can choose whomever I see fit to carry my favor,” Alexandria snapped back at him.

Egoraven’s mind reeled, all their words melding together into incomprehensible mush.

“And you would find this creature more worthy than me?”

It was Amadaeo’s turn to react. “Creature?”

All the stress of performing this unwanted dance for so long exploded to the surface as Alexandria now shook with a rage of her own. “What better champion for a lady rather than a boorish, self-centered, egotistical knight!”

Egoraven rushed forward, hoping to put an end to this. “I am not a champion,” she cried. “And I have not accepted anything! This is all a terrible mista—!”

All the unicorn princess remembered was a sharp pain in her face, followed by bright light and a burst of stars. Screams turned into a muffled rush in her ears, and she awoke with her cheek against the marble floor and an intense throbbing around her eye.

“What enchantment do you have over her that she would choose you over me?”

Egoraven groaned, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

Cerrik continued to erupt at her, ready to throw another punch. “If you are truly worthy of being her champion, then I challenge you to prove it before all here!”

“You will demand nothing of her!” Amadaeo planted himself to protect Egoraven as she slowly regained her senses. Her ears swiveled, listening to the voices around her as her magic began to work on subsiding the pain.

“What’s going on here? Alexandria!” She recognized the voice as Lord Beusaugh but did not hear an answer from the lady who set off this chain reaction.

“My lord, you should have a tighter rein on your daughter’s company. They obviously have her enspelled,” Cerrik accused.

Egoraven felt Amadaeo shuffle. “We have done no such thing!” he loudly protested as she pushed herself up.

Orchid ran to Lord Beusaugh, attempting to keep the proceedings from getting worse. “My lord, this is a huge misunderstanding.”

“No…” came the low growl that made the group turn. “There is no misunderstanding.” Egoraven stumbled as she stood, pressing the back of her hand to the pulsing black eye she sported. “I accept your challenge,” she snarled.

Amadaeo gave a small rear. “Egoraven!”

Lord Beusaugh stared in disbelief, not understanding anything of what was going on. Alexandria stood beside him, her eyes puffy and cheeks streaked with tears. Now, she had nothing to say.

Egoraven jabbed a finger in her direction. “Your daughter has chosen me to carry her favor over Cerrik. And I accept!”

Cries echoed in the hall, and she turned to see Cerrik brandishing his sword. “You haven’t earned the right, filth!”

Egoraven grabbed the borrowed scabbard strapped to her hip. “You have nothing to do with this any longer,” she replied, only able to pull out her weapon halfway before everyone surrounding them came to full attention and immediately parted, creating a path.

A group of armed guards, led by an imposing man, marched directly to the rivals. “I do not recall a contest being announced here and now.” His stern voice echoed, and his eyes narrowed as he came closer and quickly surveyed the players before him. “A duel?”

Cerrik straightened and sheathed his sword, presenting himself.

“Is this how one of Ternam’s knights displays his chivalry? By embarrassing me in front of my guests?”

This was no random noble. This was the Duke Mercer of Doornham himself.

“Forgive me, my lord. Lady Alexandria has chosen that thing to be her champion.” Cerrik shot a glare at Egoraven. “I felt it necessary to defend my honor.”

Duke Mercer stared at the unicorns, although it was apparent Orchid was not part of his gaze, and she did not react to it. Slowly, he walked up, his heels ominously tapping. “I have heard of you. The unicorns of The Coal Horse.” He looked them over. “I had been concerned at the news at first, but considering you both seemed to have been minding yourself in keeping with the peace we all enjoy in this city, I figured I would make your acquaintance in due time.” Egoraven lowered her eyes when he stopped before her. “Egoraven of Edinrahn, what ranking do you hold at tourney?” His question gave away that he already knew the answer but asked anyway.

She shuffled her hooves at hearing her name. “I hold no rank,” she replied, feeling what started as heat settling in her cheeks, turning into a full-blown blush. “In fact, this is my first time seeing one.” The throbbing around her eye seemed to become stronger.

“Your ignorance of the code is obvious, as is your lack of self-control.” The duke continued in a slow, calculated tone that filled Egoraven with shame. “You have no right to challenge a knight on my grounds. If you intended to be a champion for a lady, then you have already failed.”

Amadaeo lowered his horn in deference to the duke and stepped forward. “I apologize profusely for my niece. I did not intend for any of this to happen.”

“You are very fortunate Doornham is one of the more tolerant places to your kind,” Mercer replied, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. “Do not take my generosity for granted, for you will not always find it.”

He finally turned to Alexandria, who stood silently but defiant as her father fumed. “You decided to take an untested warrior as your champion?”

“No, she hasn’t!”

“Yes, I have!”

Mercer let out a grunt. “You have much at stake riding on your decision. If your champion does not rise to the challenge you have set, you risk the honor and standing of your house.”

“I have complete faith,” Alexandria answered.

“It’s not your faith that is in question. A lady can choose whomever they please to be their champion, but the respect of the court to become a knight must be earned.” Mercer’s voice raised to make sure all around him could hear, but he turned his eye to the unicorn girl to make sure she especially did. “I strongly recommend you leave to think about what you have been asked to become.”

Taking one last look and not saying another word, Duke Mercer considered the matter closed. With a hand signal, the guards followed as he left the great hall, leaving everyone to their own devices. The surrounding crowd of lords and ladies slowly shuffled away to return to their revelries, now having quite the story to gossip the night away.

Cerrik had long stormed out, leaving behind an exasperated Lord Beusaugh. “Insolent child!” he scolded his daughter. “How can you do this to me, in front of the duke, no less? Do you realize what jeopardy you’ve put everything I’ve worked for in? The king will certainly hear of this!”

Amadaeo gave a determined nudge. “Let’s go, Egoraven. We’ve had enough.”

Egoraven glanced around, glad that everyone was trying to avoid eye contact as much as she was. Realizing Orchid was nowhere to be found, she decided she wasn’t going to stay a minute longer to look for her. A flash of blond hair caught her eye. “There is one last thing.” Tail whipping, Egoraven stomped towards Alexandria and bitterly clutched at her throat. With a hard snap, a string of gold and silver pearls dangled, sparkling against the brown fur crowning her hand. “My lady’s favor,” Egoraven snarled, then turned her back.

Lord Beusaugh glared, unsure of who he was most angry at. However, Alexandria had a different reaction. Holding her hands to her throat where the necklace once was, she sighed heavily, her face radiating, holding a small smile long after the unicorn princess-turned-champion disappeared from her view.

* * *

The trek down the hill from the castle seemed to take much longer than when they first arrived earlier. Amadaeo and Egoraven did not share any talk, preferring to remain silent in each other’s company. The sun was setting as they reached the main city, with lamp lighters working on the torches that kept the streets visible at night. Their bodies almost dragged as they reached The Coal Horse.

The three blacksmiths were finishing supper when they heard the unicorns plodding up the stairs and into the main room. Excited for the stories they were hoping to be regaled with, their faces instead dropped as a bedraggled Amadaeo entered, followed by an equally disheveled Egoraven throwing off her jacket and yanking open the collar of the blouse that now suffocated.

“What happened?” Daniel rushed forward to offer Egoraven a chair, noticing the fading purple-yellow ring of an almost healed black eye. She did not answer; instead, she dropped into the seat and collapsed into her arms on the table with a loud, frustrated groan. Amadaeo slumped into his spot before the fireplace, letting out his own long snort.

“I take it didn’t go well?” Morgan asked, turning his head between the two of them.

Johar quickly grabbed his kettle. “I’ll make some tea for all of us.”

Daniel took a seat next to Egoraven, who still hid her face in her arms. “Are you, at least, okay?” Softly placing a hand on her shoulder, he saw her ear twitch and her head nod, accompanied by a muffled affirmation. She did not look up. Amadaeo let out another snort.

As everyone settled back at the table, the story slowly came out, with Amadaeo telling most of it as Egoraven sat quietly sipping her tea, still contemplating the consequences of her decision.

“A knight?” Johar was flabbergasted.

“I am completely shamed!” Amadaeo answered, still surprised himself.

Daniel turned to Egoraven, his eyebrows arching. “Wow. Amadaeo was right about you staging a diplomatic incident.”

The unicorn groaned again and slammed her cup, shoving herself out of the chair. She paced the hallway, her hooves stomping and tail thrashing, all her emotions bubbling up at once. “What’s wrong with wanting to be a knight?” she cried to no one in particular. “This didn’t happen the way I wanted, but I just can’t abandon it.”

“Instead, you are going to become a gladiator to appease a spoiled, rebellious girl?”

The blacksmiths shuffled uncomfortably as Amadaeo chided his niece. Morgan raised a hesitant finger. “A knight and a gladiator are two different things,” he replied, feeling the overwhelming need to correct him.

“And Egoraven is neither,” barked the unicorn. He raised his head enough to see Egoraven standing in the archway. “You are a princess, and this is completely unbefitting!”

“Now, you’re concerned about me being a princess?” Egoraven snapped back. “A princess whose kingdom is under the rule of Raikashans, in case you forgot.”

Amadaeo glared, his shimmering blue eye making Egoraven suck in her breath and regret speaking to her uncle that way. The room went still as the unicorns tried to compose themselves.

“Yes. A knight.” Egoraven spoke as calmly as she could as she kneaded the hem of her shirt. “All the better to help me raise an army to march into Edinrahn.”

The stallion’s head popped up. “An army? Who has an army?” he stuttered. “What are you going on about?”

Daniel leaned on the archway frame. “Do you realize what kind of pressure you’re going to face?” He was unsure as to which exactly he was commenting on, her becoming a knight or her gathering anybody under a banner.

Johar turned from his cleaning the tea set, his face oddly serious. “So, you’ve worked out a whole plan around this?” He swished his tail.

Egoraven tapped a hoof as if pushing herself to ride out the thought. “I am no match against the Dragon Lords. The only way I can win back our freedom is to convince a king that I am worth backing. And the only way I can do that is to become a knight and compete.”

Morgan drummed his fingers on the table. “And win, I might add. You’re not the only one trying to win King Jason’s favor.” He sat back and crossed his arms, furrowing his brow. “And you’re trying to win support for a kingdom that regularly kidnaps his people. Talk about a tall order.” The fox waited to be reprimanded for pointing out a large foundation of the legends of Edinrahn that no one seemed to want to admit in present company. But this time, none came. He looked at Johar, who was oddly silent. Even Daniel uneasily adjusted his crossed arms and shifted his stance with an awkward cough.

“Morgan is right,” Johar answered with a resigned sigh.

Egoraven looked down at her hooves, also knowing they were correct. “I can’t help what the elves have done. But believe me, I’m not doing this for them.”

Amadaeo shuffled and raised himself, tired of the cramped room. “What makes you think you have a chance against those who have no love for either elves or unicorns?”

She grabbed the jacket draped over one of the chairs and dug through the pockets, pulling out a broken necklace of gold and silver pearls. “I am champion to the lady Alexandria. She believes I have a chance.” Egoraven studied the main stone. “If everything I do is now a reflection on the Barony of Dallyn, then I cannot go back and undo what has been done. There is no choice. I must follow this path.”

Morgan leaned on the table and braced his head with his hands. “And a certain lady-in-waiting isn’t clouding your judgment at all, right?”

The room went silent.

Amadaeo walked past the table, his large frame surprisingly nimble in the tight space, with his hooves barely making a sound. “I am heading to the sheep field. This situation has gone in a way I don’t know how to solve. Even if this was even possible, much less viable, who is going to train you, child? We’ll be lucky if Duke Mercer doesn’t kick us out of the city for embarrassing him in front of his court.”

Egoraven’s ears drooped, and her face turned red. It didn’t occur to her at all to think of that part of the plan. Considering Sir Cerrik was completely out of the question, and most likely, Lord Beusaugh would not waste resources on someone getting in the way of a politically influential marriage he was desperately trying to arrange. And how much influence did Lady Alexandria have over her own situation, anyway? She felt a hollow pit in her stomach.

Johar leaned on the counter, staring into the shallow bucket of soapy water he had used to wash the dishes from supper. His ears twitched as his reflection stared back and kneaded his fingers. “Knights begin their training in childhood, taking years to become what you need to in a fraction of the time. You must train harder and learn faster just to get started.”

Amadaeo noticed the human next to him straighten at the words, then saw the fox do the same. His ears perked forward as Johar slowly turned to face his niece.

“And I do not take kindly on pupils who abandon their training once it begins to get difficult.”

Egoraven’s eyes widened. “What?” They stared at each other as she processed what the horse man said.

“You’re not thinking of training her, are you?” Daniel asked. He turned to the unicorn beside him. “Wait until Johar gets started. He wasn’t a general in Kadaran for nothing.”

Suddenly, Amadaeo didn’t need to go outside. “A general? Johar was a general?”

“If there is anyone here who can train Egoraven to become a knight, it’s him.” Daniel gave a casual nod and pointed.

Johar braced the unicorn girl’s shoulders. “Only if she’s truly serious.”

Egoraven’s heart pounded as she stood at attention. “I swear upon Alaric, my father’s name,” she answered without hesitation.

The only one not impressed by the display was the fox, who frowned as he climbed out of his chair and trotted to the hallway. As he passed between Daniel and Amadaeo, he gave them his only opinion on the matter. “If she fails him, he’ll make her regret it more than any baron or king will.” He flicked his tail and made his way down the stairs.

The unicorn and the human took one last look at Egoraven and Johar, then gave each other knowing looks. Morgan was right. This was definitely going to get worse before it got better.