Chapter Text
“I don’t think now is the best time to be having this discussion.”
“When else are we going to have this discussion?”
Elwin Rosfield sighed a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose between his pointer finger and thumb. “Anabella, this is the only free moment I have in my day today, and you want to spend it discussing betrothals ?”
Anabella sat back in her seat, frowning. “She is past her coming of age. She is an adult now. She needs to be married, and preferably out of our care. She should’ve been two summers ago.”
“And whose fault is that?”
The Duchess sneered at her husband. “Joshua’s coming of age has been my main priority,” she explained in a matter-of-factly tone. “He should, ideally, have a wife within the first year of becoming Archduke. I’m more worried about finding a partner for him than dealing with the princess.”
“Again, whose fault is that, Anabella?” Elwin shook his head. “You hold such a grudge against her.”
“You know I never wanted you to bring her back.”
“It was the best way to ensure peace.”
Anabella humphed.
“She is just fine staying as long as she wishes. She’s become a Rosfield, albeit not by blood or marriage. I have no problem with it.” He shrugged. “Our eldest son, who is past his own coming of age by a few years, still lives here.”
Anabella rolled her eyes at the mention of her eldest child. “Men like him don’t get wives without being forced into marriages. And he is not one I wish to be in charge of.” She shook her head.
Elwin decided it was best not to comment. After all, “men like him” meant men like Elwin, as well. And he and Anabella were arranged to be married even before his 16th nameday. It had been decided even before his younger brother could say his first word. Elwin never got a say in who he wanted to marry, and while he detested the law for being as such, he was glad that what came out of it were his two sons, whom he loved dearly.
“What are we going to do about her?” Anabella questioned.
“She is fine staying here. She doesn’t cause any problems, she helps out, and she’s like family to our boys,” Elwin said, getting agitated. “She can stay here for as long as she wants.”
Anabella frowned.
“Times are different. Many things have changed in the past two decades, and for the better. People living freely, making their own choices, without the fear of war. I’m quite happy with it,” Elwin continued. Following his better judgment yet again, he opted not to mention how he wished he had more of a choice when he was his children’s age. But even before he was considered an adult by Rosarian standards, he was serving as Archduke of Rosaria, albeit with the assistance of his mother as regent.
Life in Valisthea had certainly shifted. Six summers prior, Rosaria took control over Drake’s Breath after a brutal battle between Rosaria and the Iron Kingdom. Since then, the Iron Kingdom had fallen, and Rosaria claimed its land as their own.
With the spread of the Blight, instead of turning to war over territories, the nations of Storm - Rosaria, Sanbreque, and Dhalmekia - decided to form an alliance to aid each other, calling it the Triunity. The three nations worked together for the good of one another, so that their nations might thrive and not solely rely on magick, so the earth might remain healthy for a longer period of time.
For once, Valisthea felt as though it was at peace. Which made Archduke Elwin’s job easier.
But soon, it would not be his job anymore.
In six moons, Elwin would step down as Archduke, and the role would be passed on to his younger son, Joshua. There was much work to do in preparation for his assumption to the throne. That work which Elwin was trying to take a rest from currently, by sitting on the balcony overlooking the Down Gardens with his wife Anabella.
He really didn’t want to speak about betrothals and kicking out the Northern Princess right now.
She really was like family to them. She was the daughter Elwin never knew he wanted until he had her. While they weren’t incredibly close, Elwin enjoyed her presence - she was kind, humble, and was quite a fierce spirit. He especially enjoyed how happy she made his boys. The three (four, if you count the hound Torgal) were inseparable, even now, when they were growing into mature young adults. He knew Clive and Joshua could not imagine their lives without Jill Warrick as a part of it.
“She has no use here,” Anabella told him. “She’s just taking up space. Unless there is a point in her remaining here, I don’t see why we can’t just send her away.”
“Where would we send her?”
“We could buy her a place in town.”
“She’s not a problem,” Elwin responded. He bit his tongue, wanting to say something about how Anabella’s attitude was the real issue at hand, but he restrained himself. “She’s part of our family now.” He shrugged. “If you have such a problem with her, why not find her a suitor? A few years ago you were trying to, weren’t you?”
Anabella huffed. She had, indeed, just a year before the Battle for Drake’s Breath. At the time, with war brewing, she had been wondering what would be the best move for the princess, regarding marriage. She had briefly considered marrying her off to one of the noble’s sons, just to get her out of her hair, but nothing ever came of it, as many of the sons of nobles were already betrothed, either to fellow Rosarians, or even to some in the whole of the Triunity, as a way to maintain their alliance.
With the war, and then the anticipation of Joshua’s coming of age, Jill’s marriage plans were set to the wayside.
And now Anabella either wanted her to be useful, or she wanted her out of the castle. And with no war in sight, the latter seemed like the better option.
Anabella sighed and looked out to the gardens. She squinted her eyes as she spotted a figure walking through the gardens - familiar ginger wavy hair, Rosarian red cloak, and tall, thin figure. “Joshua!” she called out.
The figure turned. Indeed, it was fifteen, nearly sixteen-year-old Joshua Rosfield. He looked up at the balcony, squinting because of the sun. “Hello, Mother! Hello, Father!” he called back.
Elwin gave a fatherly wave, whereas Anabella’s face turned red. “Where do you think you’re going?” she asked.
“I was going to the bailey,” Joshua called back. “Clive and Jill were going to-”
“You were coughing late last night,” Anabella interrupted sternly. “Go back inside.”
Joshua’s shoulders slumped disappointedly. He looked as though he was trying to think of something to say in response, but was holding back his tongue from sounding rude. Or something that might get him into further trouble.
Elwin looked over at Anabella. “Ana, I think he’s fine,” he whispered.
“Mother, I was only going to-”
“Joshua Rosfield, do as you are told,” Anabella exclaimed. “You are not Archduke yet. You do what I ask. We have a meeting in an hour anyway, remember? No time for foolishness out in the bailey.”
Joshua sighed. “I was going to grab Clive and Jill,” he explained, gesturing to the gate. “They’re bound to forget to come back.”
“Yes, I’m aware. I’ll send Lord Murdoch if they don’t come back in time. You get back inside. Have some of that tea that Lady Joanna makes before our meeting.”
Joshua groaned, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. “It tastes like dirt, Mother.”
Elwin snorted a laugh, and Anabella lightly slapped his arm. “See to it, Joshua.”
Joshua glanced back at the gates briefly, as if contemplating going against his mother’s wishes.
“Joshua.”
“I’m going, Mother,” Joshua responded, walking back inside the castle, his posture not as straight as it had been before.
Anabella smirked and sat back in her seat, pleasantly prideful.
“Ana, he’s nearly sixteen,” Elwin reminded her in quiet tone. “You can’t control him forever. In just six moons, he will be Archduke, and soon after that, he will be married, so long as a betrothal is made. Let him live a little bit.”
“He’s ill ,” Anabella responded.
“He can take care of himself,” Elwin retorted.
Anabella shifted in her seat, uncomfortable with being told off. “And what in the world is a princess doing at the bailey?” she asked.
“I saw her leave with Clive earlier,” Elwin responded, allowing the change in subject to happen. “After Jill’s tutoring. I thought I heard them talk about training.”
Anabella raised a brow. “Training?”
“...Yes?”
“With…with swords?”
“That’s typically what they do in the bailey. Unless they’re working on shields,” Elwin replied, earning another hit.
Anabella’s face grew red. “Teaching a maiden how to use a sword? Who does he think he is?”
Elwin smiled proudly. “The future Lord Commander.”
Anabella looked at him, an expression of surprise plastered on her face. “Elwin.”
Elwin nodded his head. “There’s a bright future ahead of our son, my dear.”
–
“Come on, Jill! You’ll get him this time!”
“Give ‘em all you got!”
“Don’t stop now!”
Bark! Bark!
Jill heaved as she stood in the center of the Rosarian Shields Training Grounds. Sweat dripped down her face, and strands of her silver hair were plastered to her forehead and cheeks. Despite how cold she normally was, she was sweltering.
Suddenly, in front of her vision, an outstretched red gloved hand appeared. Jill blinked and glanced up, squinting because of the sun so she could view who stood before her. And that someone was the Lord Marquess Clive Rosfield.
At the age of twenty summers, Clive was dashing, and a fortress in stature. He had blossomed over the past five years, towing in height over his fellow Shields, but not in a lanky way like his younger brother. His stature was large - years of training and battle showing themselves through his physique. While he appeared menacing and a force to be reckoned with, his eyes and smile showed the truth - a kind, gentle young man.
And, Jill’s best friend.
“Feel like calling it quits?” he asked, quirking a thick brow at her. Cocky bastard .
Jill smirked. She reached up and grasped his forearm. “Not on your life,” she retorted.
The crowd that had gathered to watch cheered at the sight as Clive chuckled and assisted Jill in standing up. Jill giggled a little, too, when she heard Torgal howl excitedly from his spot by Sir Wade. The hound had also grown throughout the last five summers, now much larger than the size of a normal dog. Even still, he was just a large puppy in a big dog’s body.
“Wouldn’t have expected anything different from you, My Lady,” Clive told her. Jill cringed when she heard some comments and wolf-whistles from some of Clive’s comrades as soon as the sentence escaped his lips. No matter how hard she tried, nothing would change how those men would react to anything she did. At least Clive had the decency to treat her with respect.
She shrugged it off. “Unless you wanted to quit?” she asked slyly.
Clive’s eyes went wide, and the Shields let out a collective “oh!” at Jill’s quip.
“You’re just gonna take that?”
“You can’t let her get away with that, Lord Rosfield!”
“Show her what a real Shield of Rosaria can do!”
Clive shook his head. “I’m ready when you are.”
Jill smiled and picked up her practice sword from the ground. “Such a gentleman. Are you going to go easy on me, too?”
Clive laughed. “I’d never dare to,” he replied, holding out his own sword in front of him, bumping it against hers as he got into his stance. “I respect you far too much to do so.”
“Enough flirting! Get on with it!” one of the Shields shouted. Many of the other men cheered in agreement.
Clive gave her a look. Are you ready?
Jill got into position. She nodded firmly and tapped her sword against his.
Clive winked at her. Jill’s breath briefly caught in her throat.
Without a moment to react, Clive shifted forward, his sword aiming for her torso, but Jill was quick to block him with her own weapon, pushing him back. She skipped back, out of the way, figuring he was going to attempt to retaliate, and their swords collided.
They settled back into their fighting positions, their swords pressed up against each other, both of them waiting for the other to attack.
“Come on!”
“Get on with it!”
“Better give the audience what they want, eh?” Jill questioned.
“Hear, hear,” Clive replied, just as Jill swung for his chest. He dodged out of the way, and managed to counterattack, hitting her torso. Jill grunted at her loss of power, but she managed to block his combo to keep him from being successful.
She swung at him once he pulled away, but he stopped her. She attempted again and again and again, but she was unsuccessful. He gave her a cocky smile and Jill wanted to scrub it off his face, even with how his grin made her stomach flutter.
She swung her sword back higher, but unfortunately for her, Clive dodged out of the way, rolling onto his knees, their swords meeting again.
As Clive stood, they both attempted to make jabs at one another, only to be halted by the other’s weapon. Clive swung at her, but Jill spun to block his attempt, pushing his sword the other way.
Unfortunately, such was not the case. So, instead, once she believed Clive would not react in time, she let go of her block and attempted to hit his stomach. Clive, however, had incredible reflexes and he blocked her, walking towards her.
Again, she tried to hit, but he blocked. And again. And again. With every attempt and every block, Clive walked closer to her, forcing her to step backwards, ever reaching closer to the barrier. Jill tried to ignore the hoots and hollers of the deprived men encircling the arena, and she continued to use her sword to dodge his attempted attacks.
“You’re getting better at defense,” Clive complimented, though slightly out-of-breath as he swung at her side, though he was choked by Jill’s sword.
“Had a patient teacher,” Jill remarked. “Taught me all of his secrets. Bet he regrets that now, eh?” She tried to step away so he wouldn’t keep pushing them back, but Clive was quick on his feet and shifted again to stand in front of her.
“He’s proud, I’m sure,” Clive replied. “And happy you can defend yourself.” He swung sharply, aiming for her chest.
Now backed up fully against the fence, Jill had no choice but to hit his sword back as harshly as she could. The two ended up chest-to-chest, Jill fighting Clive’s hit back. “Flattery won’t do you any good, My Lord,” she whispered to him.
“W-wasn’t trying anything,” Clive stuttered, his cheeks flush, but not from the exercise.
Jill grunted proudly and pushed him back with all her might, successful because of the distraction. The men booed Clive’s loss of power, and Jill fought the urge to use Diamond Dust on whoever decided to make the juvenile remark about Clive being “distracted by her tits”.
“Clearly,” Jill said in response to Clive’s comment. “Are you really not going easy on me?”
Clive laughed. “You dare mock me?”
“It’s quite easy to,” Jill replied, skipping out of the way as Clive attempt to slash at her, but she got out of the way. She retaliated by attempting to do the same back to him, but he blocked, getting on his knees to make sure he got it.
However, it put him at a disadvantage - Jill pressed her sword against his, leaning closer and closer to him. She smiled at him, and right when Clive’s hold broke, she swung, fully knocking him to the ground.
Even though the men had been cheering for Clive, they all shouted her praises as Jill caught her breath, smiling with pride at the admiration. Torgal barked excitedly, even attempting to jump the fence so he could treat Jill with licks and kisses, but Sir Wade held him back.
Jill shook the adrenaline off and dropped her sword on the ground, huffing and puffing as she recovered from the sparring session. She looked down at Clive, who looked at her proudly as he laid in the dirt, his sword off to the side. Even after being defeated, he looked at her with a kind smile. “Well done,” he breathed.
Jill grinned. “Thank you,” she said. She held out her hand for him. Clive took it without hesitation, and she aided him in standing up. “Really think I’ve improved?”
Clive nodded his head. He opened his mouth to say something, but he was hastily interrupted by a loud, commanding voice from outside the training area. “What on earth is all this commotion?”
Jill and Clive - still holding their hands between them - looked to see Lord Commander Rodney Murdoch approaching, a proud smile on his face. He tapped his cane on the ground, and all the Shields immediately straightened up at the sight of them, their cheering stopped instantly. Even Torgal sat straight. The man still held quite a presence after all these years, even with the injury from the Battle for Drake’s Breath that in turn left him with a lame left leg.
“Lord Rosfield and Lady Warrick were havin’ a sparrin’ match, Lord Commander!” one of the Shields called.
Rodney chuckled, looking on at the sight in front of him. “Ah - student besting the teacher, eh?” he asked, pointing his cane at the young man. “Now you know how I felt those five summers ago, Lord Rosfield!”
Clive laughed. “She’s an excellent fighter,” he said, releasing Jill’s hand to clasp her shoulder, grinning proudly at her. Jill casted her gaze to the ground, not wishing to meet anyone’s eyes.
“Too bad she can’t be a Shield,” one of the senior Shields yelled.
Despite that comment most certainly being an insult - considering the laughter that erupted - Clive shrugged his shoulders casually. “Who knows? Maybe with the future Archduke Joshua, we might have female Shields. Well deserved, isn’t it?”
The men groaned, some having the audacity to make gross comments about how women needed to “stay in their place”.
“What?” Jill called, now looking over at them with confidence. All the men immediately shut their mouths. “Insecure in your masculinity?”
Rodney and Clive laughed as the men grumbled in response. “Speaking of the young prince,” Rodney said, “you two are requested to attend a meeting with him, Lady Anabella, and the current Archduke.”
Clive groaned, his face dropping. “Fuck, I’d forgotten-”
“Yes, and they are very aware of that, My Lord, so you’d best clean yourselves up and make your way to the meeting room.”
“Before she has our heads,” Clive mumbled. He looked up at Rodney. “My thanks, Lord Commander!” he exclaimed as one of the attendees hopped the fence to take the practice swords away. Torgal yelped and hopped off the stands to meet them, earning pets and scratches from the pair.
Clive looked to Jill once the wolf was satisfied. “Ready, My Lady?”
Jill smiled and nodded. “Ready.”
With a slight blush of his cheeks, the three made their way out of the arena.