Moria was immediately irritated by the man. He hadn’t even waited until they were to the castle to ask about his money. He was not only impatient, but greedy too. How wonderful.

She was halted by the advisor, who was patiently waiting for the commoner to catch up to them. The commoner stood there, staring up at the castle as if he had never seen it before. Then again, he probably hadn’t. Any travelers were either merchants looking to sell things or a village leader looking for some sort of hand out.

“This way.” The advisor said, gaining his attention. He must have had quite the ego, making the princess and advisor wait for him like this. The advisor pushed the door open and allowed her to enter first. The hall was lit by the late afternoon sun, which would soon dip below the wall, and then the horizon. The day couldn’t end soon enough. She kept her pace quick and steady, wanting to sit down and have a glass of strong wine with dinner.

The dining hall was both a blessing and a curse in that moment, but she reminded herself that the faster she dealt with the dinner, the faster she could pretend it never happened. She would certainly be laughing about this later with Ashlyn and the other.

Taking her spot at the table, Moria did her best to completely ignore the commoner. He remained quiet as well, another blessing as far as she could tell. The advisor took his own spot and when they met gazes across the table, he mouthed something suspiciously like “Graces”, earning him a poisonous glare from the princess. He was grating on her already frayed nerves.

Finally, after what seemed like a century of silence, King Rion entered. A few guards followed him, taking their positions by the door as he moved to the table. He held a rather large bag in his hand, obviously the prize money the commoner had been so worried about. Taking his customary spot at the head of the table, the king set the bag aside.

“I am sure you are eager to obtain your well-won prize.” The king said, addressing Lander directly. “However, I implore you to be patient. There is an additional matter I wish to discuss before you leave.”

Moria furrowed her brow, examining her father to no avail. Additional matter? What could the king ask of such a man? The advisor seemed unsurprised, either hiding it well or knowing what the king wanted. Why hadn’t she heard about this?

King Rion did not wait for a response from the other man, motioning to the waiting servants who had appeared out of door to the kitchen. They served separate trays of food to everyone before disappearing again. Apparently no one else would be joining them for dinner, which meant that the eventual discussion would be private.

Moria sipped the wine and picked at her food for most of the silent occasion, her appetite gone in the face of growing anxiety. Guest dinners were usually a loud, festive occasion, with any visitors trading tales and jokes across the table. This quiet affair was a stark contrast, and she wished vainly for Ashlyn or one of the other visiting ladies to be sitting beside her. At least their gossip was entertaining. She lost herself into daydreams of the recent warm afternoons spent in the courtyard, playing chess with Vivien as Galiene chattered on about her husband’s family. A smile crept across her face as she was reminded of a particularly good story about her cousin and an unfriendly horse.

She was drawn from her thoughts as a servant girl drew up next to where she was seated. “Are you done, Milady?”

“Yes, take it away.” Moria said with a wave of dismissal. The table was cleared quickly, and a moment of silence passed, the king seemingly lost in thought. He leant forward and rested his elbows on the table, using his folded hands as a chin rest.

“Now to the matter at hand.” He began, training his gaze onto Lander again. “I am in need of a personal guard, and I ask that you would fill the position. You have shown yourself to be more than capable. It would be temporary, until you are no longer needed, and you would be paid handsomely for your work.”

Moria stared at her father. Had he gone mad? “Father” She began, drawing his attention. “You have the knights. What could you need a personal guard for?”

“Not for me, Moria. For you.” He said.

She stared at him unabashedly, her mind reeling at the statement. “What? For me? I do not need a guard.”

“You do if I say you do. I have received a worrisome threat, and I cannot allow harm to come to you.”

“What about the knights?” She couldn’t believe it. She lived in a fortified castle surrounded by armored guards. What was this peasant supposed to protect her from? “Surely they’re more suited to such a position.”

“That is why I held the tournament: to find the strongest in Camelot. I had naturally assumed that Sir Jerald or one of the others would have won, but it seems I was wrong.” The king explained.

“But… Father, he’s not even a noble!”

His gaze turned sharp. “I do not care what he is, so long as he can protect you.”

“Father, I-“

“Enough, Moria.” His voice left no room for further argument. Sitting back in her chair rigidly, her jaw tightened as she gritted her teeth. A small voice in her head, which sounded suspiciously like Ashlyn, reminded her that ‘[i]at least it hadn’t been a suitor tournament.[/i]’ She squashed the little voice ferociously. The advisor looked amused with the proceedings. She wanted to wring his neck.

 Addressing the commoner again, her father said “You can always decline and I will send you off tomorrow with your prize. It is your choice.”