After what felt like a leisurely ride through the Duchy, our carriage finally came to a halt. I peeked out the window and took in the sight before us. We had arrived at the Commoners’ Square, nestled at the heart of the bustling district within Bourdelle Duchy.

  Though it cked the marble promenades and manicured hedges of noble grounds, there was an undeniable charm to the pce. The stone-paved square stretched wide and open, fnked by modest brick buildings with colorful banners fluttering from their windows. Vendors called out from their stalls, selling everything from meat skewers to ribboned pins, and eager spectators—young and old alike—were already gathering near the arena stands.

  It was lively. Vibrant. Very different from the refined silence of noble events.

  This would be my first time attending the Sword Tournament. I’d never felt drawn to these things, so I often stayed behind whenever my parents or brothers went. But today, my brothers were among the competitors. And so, here I was—though not entirely by choice.

  My parents exited the carriage first, with Father offering Mother his hand like a proper gentleman. But just as I began to move, Father’s voice halted me in pce.

  “Nia, go straight to the manor,” he said firmly, not even turning around.

  I blinked. “What—?”

  Before I could finish protesting, he was already calling for Dame Jan.

  “Jan, escort Nia to the manor directly. Keep your eyes on her at all times.” He cleared his throat, then added, voice low and grave, “And don’t let any foolish young lord approach her— or worse, her trying to hover near any of them either!”

  “Yes, my lord,” Dame Jan replied, expression as unreadable as ever.

  Mother and I replied in perfect sync:

  “Terry!” she snapped, aghast. “Father!” I gasped, indignant.

  “She goes with Jan or she goes home,” Father said without missing a beat. He adjusted his coat and straightened his posture like he’d just delivered an imperial decree.

  Mother sighed, shaking her head with a soft ugh. “You are impossible, Terry.”

  And yet, there was fondness in her voice—amusement woven into exasperation.

  With nothing left to say, I gave up and sank back into the plush carriage seat, lips pursed in defeat.

  Mother leaned back into the carriage and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Don’t hate your father, Nia. He’s just being overly dramatic, as always.”

  “It’s alright, Mother. I only teeny-weeny hate him right now,” I grumbled under my breath.

  That, of course, was the final blow. Father’s face twisted into panic the moment he heard the word hate. He opened his mouth—likely to issue another over-the-top decration—but Mother swiftly tugged him away by the arm.

  “Jan, go with her, please,” she said sweetly, and with that, the carriage door was shut.

  “Take care, sweetie! I’ll see you ter!” she called out cheerfully, while Father still looked personally betrayed on the steps.

  “Alright, young dy,” Dame Jan said, settling in beside me with a nod. “Let’s get you safely to the manor.”

  I returned the nod with a resigned sigh.

  Truth be told, I had already pnned to ask if I could skip meeting my brothers for now. They’d only tease me to death and ruin my mood. So in a way, Father’s overly dramatic order was oddly convenient. Not that I’d ever admit that to his face.

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