Everywhere Vadde went, people often leaned into one another and whispered. Her temper wasn’t her best feature. And being a princess, she wasn’t used to actively seeking out others for company. But when she showed up in the late morning, after properly washing the clothes this time, Wyrn wasn’t alone for lunch. Bonn sat with him.

Neither of them really ate.

“What do you think?” Bonn asked.

Wyrn had nothing to say. Today, when he spotted Vadde, he watched her approach in somber contemplation. He had the nerve, with his gaze still on hers, to reach down and pick up some bread.

Heavy basket still in hand, Vadde let out a gasp. She wasn’t known for her speed, but she reached them in time to slap that wayward morsel right out of his fingers.

With a slow sigh, Wyrn said, “Ow.”

All blood rushed to Vadde’s face. “S—sorry.” This wifely effort wasn’t working. She’d come confident but now she showed the basket and said, “But I made you something.”

Though Wyrn stared past her, Bonn was eager to look. “All by yourself?”

It was a small scoff when Wyrn muttered, “Mother probably made it.”

Vadde didn’t like the tone. “Just the base. I made all the decorations,” she declared. “In fact, I’m rather good at it. She even said.”

Only Bonn gave her a warm smile as she started to unpack the meal. Vadde came feeling confident, but as Wyrn continued to stare off into the distance, her boldness waned.

“Oh. Well, that’s too bad,” Bonn said, drawing Wyrn’s focus.

The decorations. Nearly all had fallen off. Vadde regretted having run.

She was losing ground fast, so she added, “I did manage to make a few.”

“What’s this here?” Bonn said, picking up Vadde’s personalized muffin. “It’s as hard as a rock.”

His hearty chuckle that time stole the last of her pride. When he flicked it out into the field and it slammed into a tree, there wasn’t much left of her.

There were only two more, thankfully. Vadde hadn’t the energy to admit it when he picked yet another up.

Wyrn took it from him. His eyes lingered on the blackened muffin for but a moment before he met Vadde’s humiliated gaze. He took a bite and instantly regretted it if the cough was any indication.

“Brother, I don’t think that’s for eating.”

“Let’s hold the ceremony then,” Wyrn said. “Best to do it while the weather suits.”

Bonn’s interest shifted from the food Wyrn tried with all his might to chew. Each cough came with him grimacing. He at least reached for the third and final one though.

“All right,” Bonn agreed, looking between them. “So, all four of us?”

This time Wyrn choked. Vadde’s eyes bugged. Everything in her longed to take that half-eaten muffin from his hand before she inadvertently killed the man. She supposed that was why Aggu insisted on helping with the bulk of the meal.

Vadde finally admitted defeat. “If it’s too hard to eat—”

Wyrn shoved the last of it in his mouth and stood. “No.”

Who was he talking to? Vadde thought to ask but his brother rose to his feet as well.

“What? But what’s the fun in that?” Bonn waited then looked down at Vadde and decided on a new avenue. “Fine. Then I won’t.”

The answer came with a groan. “Don’t be childish. It’s a great blessing.”

Bonn watched the green grass below their boots then sighed. “You don’t think welcoming her is a good idea then?” But he didn’t wait for an answer. He just nodded knowingly and walked away before Wyrn had anything to say.

Wyrn turned to watch him go. “Damn,” he cursed.

His gentle voice made the word sound sweet rather than menacing. After a long pause, he told Vadde, “You’re not to set foot into another kitchen.”

She turned up her nose. “I’ll go wherever I want.” Little by little, her posture wilted until she muttered, “But I’ll stick to the soups.”

Wyrn stared after Bonn again but asked her, “Help me with my brother.”

Vadde was eager to be useful. “By cooking—?”

“Not on your life.” Wyrn turned to her and confessed his plan. At the end of it, he said, “Understand?”

She only blinked at him. “Wait, a welcoming ceremony? For—for wives?” At his nod, she bristled. “And where’s my welcoming ceremony?” Wyrn’s grimace made her rethink that question. “Well, can—can it double as ours?”

Wyrn reluctantly nodded. “Yes. That’s what Bonn wants. It would be the four of us fighting against all our five other brothers and their wives. So—”

“Oh, it sounds like fun.”

But he wasn’t sure. “You’d have to weave—”

“I can weave. I can weave well. You saw how well I braided the pony’s hair.” When he made a face, she told herself not to remind him of that one again. “I suppose there isn’t anything I can do.”

“There is, actually. Singing—”

It was a slow head-shake.

“Sewing….”

He waited and she found interest in the trees at his back.

“Dancing? Surely, you can dance.”

“Well….” At his sigh, she said, “Couldn’t you teach me?”

Wyrn was less than pleased. “You were a princess. Isn’t that all they do?”

Rihetha. That name hadn’t come to her in months but here it was. Rihetha was never supposed to go anywhere, be courted by anyone, or married off. And after The Living Goddess came, all prospects of training for such an event brought Mother fainting spells and put Father into a terrible mood for weeks.

So she studied. And nothing more. “I can embroider,” she found herself saying. “That’s the same as sewing.”

It wasn’t. Making things look good and making things fit were two different things entirely.

As they stood there, she imagined how she’d fail this one month-long effort and march down that hill. On her own, or with a boot to the backside?

“Fine.” Wyrn wasn’t sure but finally, he said, “I think Bonn needs this. It will bless his marriage.”

Vadde felt lighter. “And ours.”

Wyrn made a face. “Right.”

It was the way he said it. “No need to be rude.”

“Just…just help me help my brother, please. I’d be grateful.” He gathered up the basket as well as his original lunch. “Whoever has the best scores gets a blessing. Usually, a bountiful wife and a baby right away. Since we won’t be needing that—”

“We won’t?”

Still crouching, Wyrn looked up at her. “Judging by your score card, no, we won’t.”

“But—”

He stood. “Princess.”

Meekly, she nodded.

“This is for Bonn and his wife. Not a competition.” His gaze became somber. “I’d be grateful.”

Vadde considered it then came to one conclusion. “Good wives are supportive.”

Wyrn looked down to hide his sudden smile. “Come on, you.”

She hurried after him. “Well, they are. You know, there were ancient stories of dedicated wives who’d even help their husbands commit assassinations. Or—or even hide a body.” In no time, she overtook him and stood proud. “I’d surely help you when the time comes.” She paused and considered those words. “Well, perhaps not with the killing. And should you have proper justification then I suppose I would dig with you though you’re probably faster.”

The more she spoke, the closer his brows knitted.

This was a terrible sales pitch. “All right, so no killing or burial but I’d surely keep your secret!”

He stared at her. something was strange about his expression. When he stepped past, she realized it.

“Wait, were you smiling?”

“No.”

“You were. You were smiling. Was it my dedication that amused you? I am rather loyal.”

“Yes. You seem about as loyal as a cat.”

The next day, Vadde dressed well. She rose early to do most of her chores so that she’d have time at lunch. But instead of a dance practice, Wyrn brought her to one of the barns. The walls of weapons were something to behold.

She found herself backing out of it to count. Six weapon stores. The majority of the swords were cleaned but….

“Our swords come in pairs. So never take just one. It’ll confuse the others who come looking. And also, don’t touch the blades for any reason. They’re enchanted.”

Whenever he spoke of magic, Vadde smiled. There was always a twang to his voice.

“An enchantment strong enough to kill even a fairy?” she teased.

“Even the Fairy King himself should he ever return,” Wyrn attested, without a hint of humor.

As impressive as the weapons were, they made Vadde ill-at-ease. “Do you honestly fight with these?”

“Me?” Wyrn came to a smaller area of the wall. “Projectiles are more my expertise. Slingshots, crossbows and such.” When she perked up, he turned to her and said, “And that’s why we aren’t to use any of these. We stick to the wooden swords. That is where Bonn excels. Our goal is to get them to work together.”

The way he fell silent caught Vadde off guard. “What is it?”

Wyrn wasn’t always forthcoming with knowledge but confessed, “Bonn had high marks with his first wife. They were a very good fit. In fact, they were all over each other. I—I don’t want this one to fall short. All right?”

Vadde raised her hand and smile. “Solemnly bury that dead body!” She was starting to like that face he made whenever defeated. “Now, about that dancing—”

“Later.” Wyrn stepped past her. “Let me show you how to tie a rope.”

“Wyrn?” He paused in his turn and gazed at her, waiting. Vadde hesitated but sucked in a deep breath and found her courage. The physicality of the competition was a worry. “May I ask how…how you…?”

His brows furrowed then relaxed when it occurred to him. “How I move so well despite my back?”

Vadde cleared her throat and tried to save face. “Move so fast, yes.”

His eyes roved over the weapons as he confessed, “Because, like these, I’m bless by The Living Goddess’s enchantment, too. It gives me strength. That’s why my father serves her without fail and—and Mother worries.”

Two days later, they stood proud with one another at the river. It wasn’t a long obstacle course, but it came with danger. Firstly, the women would ride on their husbands backs across the river. Scale the fence together, capture all the hidden trinkets in the forest, then arrive back at the main house the fastest. Any and every one was welcome to slow others down. Therefore, some broke into teams, with the understanding that they’d eventually betray one another.

The first problem came with the first task. Riding the man’s back.

Barefoot and with dresses hiked up, a long line of women prepared to race to their husband. Vadde had seen Shaza in practice. She climbed like a damn spider.

And though Vadde had argued that the rules were unfair, Wyrn had shushed her. Their plan was sound but surely destined for failure. Trousers rolled up to the knees, the men waited, ready to catch their wives.

Wyrn didn’t even bother to move his hair from his eyes.

Vadde hated losing but still, she reminded herself that victory wasn’t the main goal.

But then the thought occurred; she was allowed to attack opponents.

Aggu moved down the line giving well-wishes. When she arrived at Shaza and turned up her nose, Vadde stifled a laugh. The snub must have surely hurt when the aged matriarch took Vadde by the hands.

“Good luck, dear. I’m sure you two will do well.” Despite her caring words, worry shined in her eyes. “Good luck,” she repeated.

Vadde’s skin warmed. Whether the woman’s voice held confidence or doubt, Vadde was unsure.

When Aggu walked away, a smug voice came. “May the best couple,” Shaza said, smirking, “put all the rest to shame.

“Ready?” shouted Wyrn’s father from a small stage.

Oh, Vadde was ready, she was more than ready. The man’s hand came down, but Vadde didn’t run forward, she rammed Shaza in the side. Shaza in turn tumbled into yet another woman and the cascade went on.

Wyrn’s look of horror made Vadde laugh as she stormed toward him. Bonn nudged Wyrn with pride while laughing.

Vadde closed in and Wyrn shouted, “Jump.”

On his back? How? She would have argued but she did the loyal wifely thing and obeyed.

Wyrn caught her in his arms and drudged through the choppy water. Vadde, impressed with his speed, made the mistake of looking back. Terror followed them—a long line of filthy and angry women, looking to settle a score. All riding their husbands’ backs. That was the trouble. With Wyrn’s hands busy holding her, Vadde was tasked with making the rope they needed to get over the high fence.

That was fine. She’d practiced.

“The rope!” Wyrn arrived with her

She dropped it. Wyrn careened to a halt but all she had to offer him was a look of woe. He put her down and ran back to get it. He was just in time to hook it just as Bonn threw his. It was certainly impressive when he held it taught and Shaza scurried up the rope like some circus star.

Vadde lost heart. She thought to tell Wyrn as much when Bonn began his climb. But when Vadde looked around, she found herself…alone.

“Up here.” Wyrn called from atop the wall. “Just catch hold.”

He’d already climbed up. Others arrived. Each had varying ways of scaling the wall. Vadde did as she was told and Wyrn made a fast job of pulling the rope up, her along with it. She barely set foot on the top. He shoved her off.

A harrowing scream left Vadde’s throat but stopped when the rope went taut. Wyrn lowered her to the ground then scaled down.

“Come on! We have to at least give a good show.”

Still petrified, Vadde pushed back her fear and followed Wyrn’s lead. Other women raced to the weapons. There were only three bows and quivers. Vadde set her sights on one, Wyrn’d taught her which he liked best. It closed in but something caught her feet, and she took a tumble. Shaza paused long enough to give her a wink before racing on.

When Vadde stood, it was with a fire in her gut. Wyrn, along with the other men, were looking for the hidden treasures. Wyrn would scout the best path for it.

Vadde’s hands grazed the last bow and she had to fight for it. Something else was left behind, a set of wooden swords. Vadde didn’t know why, but she decided to take just one.

As she raced into the woods with the bow and arrow, someone raced back. Shaza. She threw the quiver and bow down and searched the area but froze at with the one sword.

“No. No. There must be two. There must.”

Vadde ran on with a smile. Wyrn held out his hands for her and chided, “We agreed no bow.”

“What?” Vadde’s body lost all feeling. Slowly but surely it dawned on her, she’d meant to get the swords—she’d more than set her mind to it. “First the rope, now this….” Her disappointment weighed her down.

And then Wyrn plucked something from her dress. It was a small piece of paper. “It’s not your fault,” he said, stoneface. “This is a contrary spell.”

Vadde picked her head up, more than eager to have something else to blame. And then it occurred to her—she’d rammed Shaza.

“Someone could use this to win?”

“It’s not strong enough for that. All it can do is make your thinking foggy. You’d drop things and make mistakes—well, more than usual.”

He looked angry enough, but Vadde hesitated at giving him a name. There was no need.

“Shaza. Fine.” He snatched the bow from Vadde’s hands and said, “Then we’ll give them a fight.”

Now with the charm gone, Vadde suggested a good revenge, “If we win—”

“We’re not going to win. But…no need to fall behind.” Wyrn led her further into the forest. “This method is smooth and easy. Wait till you see. No one else has this. We’ll get the ones up high. They have the most value. Here.” He handed her a pair of shoes and took her by the hand. She was still struggling to get into them. She decided to drop the sword and follow.

Wyrn’s plan was sound. He wasn’t a good climber, but he knew how to shoot up and allow for the arrow to fall with ease.

Something unexpected happened in the forest, Wyrn all but forgot his plan to allow Bonn to win.

“Look how close we are,” Wyrn boasted. He searched the trees. “There. There. That’s the last one. With it, no one else can gain enough.”

It was ridiculously high up. Dangerously so.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” a voice came. “I’d tried to get two.”

“It’s fine.” Bonn brushed Shaza off as he made his way down into the gully. “I can go low for the rest. Just stay here.”

Shaza trembled as she watched after him. She didn’t appear to know what to do. Wyrn, on the other hand, was taking aim.

Vadde held his hand.

The arrow missed its mark.

“Why?” Wyrn snapped. “I had it.”

His voice alerted Shaza to their presence. But that wasn’t all. She saw the cloth prize tied to the top branch.

“Oh no you don’t,” Wyrn grumbled. He took another arrow and would have more than gotten the job done but Vadde stepped before him.

“Wyrn.”

He tried to avoid her. “Move.”

Vadde met him yet again. “Wyrn.”

Unsurprisingly, Shaza took a running start and jumped against the trees. She scurried up like some sort of demon. The speed with which she traveled surprised only Vadde.

Wyrn took aim but Vadde held his hand. “Don’t.”

His body was still taut, even as Vadde helped him lower the bow and arrow. Each ragged breath had his chest rising and falling. Something broke in him when Shaza claimed the prize then climbed down and raced after her husband.

Neither of them knew what to say. Vadde hadn’t expected Wyrn’s disappointment. She believed him when he’d said he wasn’t looking to win. Somehow, she was sure he’d believed it, too.

Perhaps, it was because of his back or his useless would-be wife, but he had a lot going against him. Or maybe he’d just been caught up in the heat of the moment. But to get this close and let it run off boasting was hard.

Once Wyrn returned the arrow to the quiver, they stood side by side. Couple after couple raced through the woods laughing.

Vadde took him by the hand. He startled enough to meet eyes with her. That woeful expression made her feel anything but. She didn’t know why, but she didn’t hesitate to step close to him and peck his lips.

He flinched once but parted his lips in surprise when she kissed him again.