Chapter Text
The Duke of Coedwig had been a very happy man before leaving for the War of the Halves, leaving behind his pregnant wife and a ten-year-old daughter. Jim Hopper, however, returned to a home with a ten-year-old daughter and a newborn who would lose her mother. This, however, would not be the last tragedy to haunt the Hoppers. Sara Hopper was the most beautiful young woman in the entire kingdom, the kindest one and probably the one with the biggest heart in the world. After their mother’s death, which devastated their father, she never left her sister’s side, becoming more than just her sister: her companion and her mentor. At twenty-one, she had already been courted by dukes, marquises, counts, and even a prince, but she refused to abandon her sister, the one they had named Jane, and their father.
“Oh, poor young lady, if she keeps this up, she’ll grow old and nobody will marry her.”
The maids gossiped constantly behind their master’s back, about how poor Lady Sara had grown so attached to her sister that she treated her almost like a princess, or how the duke taught “men’s things” to his daughter. Both little duchesses were skilled in combat and archery; Sara even fought with a sword better than her father’s knights. Being young, beautiful, and strong, however, did not save the little duchess from scarlet fever. No healer or sorcerer managed to pull the young woman from the decrepit state she was in, and so, in a cold winter, Sara Hopper, the duke of Coedwig’s first daughter, died in her father’s arms while her sister sobbed beside the bed. Three years later, Jane still could not even say her sister’s name; in fact, she spoke almost nothing at all, oscillating between completely mute and monosyllabic.
“May I speak freely?” Murray, Hopper’s right-hand man, looked at him a bit uncertainly.
They were alone in the room, whatever was said would stay between them.
“Go ahead.”
Murray cleared his throat, as if walking on eggshells and at the same time desperate to speak.
“Little Jane… she isn’t getting much better, is she?” The question was rhetorical, he already knew the answer.
“I know I’m not a father, but I think a bit of company would be good for her. I know she has tutors and practices sports, but maybe someone her age, perhaps a friend.” The man almost swallowed his words from how fast he spoke. “Girls her age usually have ladies-in-waiting. I think even just one might help… but that’s only my opinion, I don’t wish to meddle.”
Hopper paused for a few seconds, considering the possibilities. Above all, he was a duke and had the power and money to hire at least fifty ladies-in-waiting, but choosing only one would be complicated; it had to be someone of good lineage and trustworthy. Murray sighed when Hopper showed agreement and handed him a list with twelve young women’s names. As soon as he read them, one in particular caught his attention.
Maxine Mayfield.
William Hargrove’s little sister, although they had different surnames and fathers, he would recognize the lineage of a traitor even blind. William had been a member of the cavalry and had betrayed the king’s trust for a handful of coins, dragging the reputation of the old Mayfield family through the mud. Maxine had been trying to restore that honor ever since she learned to speak. She had taken the theoretical and practical exams to become a knight twice and had been rejected both times because of the family record. He took the ink and drew an arrow toward her name, handing the paper to Murray, who looked up curiously.
“We are not our parents, nor our siblings. Bring her for an interview.”
Max certainly had not been expecting the duke of Coedwig’s personal adviser to show up at her door, but after the past few years she would have believed it even if a dragon had appeared in the sky. Maxine could not remember the last time she had slept peacefully, maybe when her father was still alive and her psychopath half-brother was studying at the academy.
“Would you like to attend an interview with the duke?” She had spaced out for a moment, absorbing the information.
“To be the duchess’s lady-in-waiting?” Max repeated, looking straight into the man’s eyes. Men were generally not creatures to be trusted, but this one gave off a strange energy, somewhere between madness and kindness.
Murray simply nodded, waiting for a proper answer. Still shocked, Maxine just nodded as well.
“All right, tomorrow at 9 a.m. You know where the duke’s castle is?” Again, she dignified herself to nod. Murray didn’t bother saying goodbye, leaving the house with a smile.
Max watched the man walk away and looked at the letter bearing the duke’s seal, confirming the authenticity of the invitation. Duke Hopper had never exactly been considered an example for the nobility. His title had been granted for honor, not blood; his social manners showed clear respect only toward the late king and his family. He didn’t seem to care about gossip, and during the time he was royal adviser he established the Daughters’ Law, giving daughters the same inheritance rights as sons. And he was the one who accepted the first female knight, Nancy Wheeler.
The first to believe that women could be knights.
The first who believed.
The laugh the redhead let out was so loud that all the maids came to peek. It had been months since she had even smiled, so laughter either meant good news or complete insanity.