It has been a long time since I have been this surprised by anyone.
I do not make a habit of visiting the capital. It is a claustrophobic place, with too many buildings and not enough trees, too many people with too much and others with not enough. But a member of my court owes a life debt to Uri Winters, who is an honourable man, and never before have I received such a letter. Nothing else would have tempted me to brave a place I hate as much as the capital. Unable to explain it, my own curiosity surrounding the author of this letter drove me to attend a ball I would previously never have considered. And she is so different from the rumours. So opinionated. Articulate. When she talks, she does so with her chest, with bravado. Not the brat I have heard of, nor the spoilt child I met briefly three years ago. I am almost inclined to believe she is a new person, with some kind of magic involved. But then I realise how stupid I am to succumb to superstition rather than believe a rumour false.
Because of this letter, I am now stuck in the capital longer than I need to be organising a tournament. The turnaround has been tight; I do not want to be in this place longer than a fortnight. And since planning has begun, I have seen the princess twice in person and countless times from afar. She is not well versed in such things as sponsoring events, but she is a quick study and diligent. Often, I see her at the library, sitting in the garden with Prince Rakan, both in silent study. It is curious. Although they do not talk, there is an obvious intimacy there that repels outsiders from interfering.
She has also begun to show an interest in swordsmanship. I see her regularly at the training grounds early in the morning, watching that knight of hers, Amelinne, imitating the moves with small movements of her own as she sits and watches from afar. I find myself wishing she would look at me in such a way, but the thoughts are often fleeting and are done away with after a few laps of the grounds. Regardless, it is clear to see that the lady Princess Lyra so staunchly defended, Amelinne, is talented. It is a disgrace that she is not a knight due to some pointless tradition. I have introduced myself with the hope of persuading her to return north with me, but as the days have passed, I have become sure she will reject my offer. There is an unspoken bond between her and Princess Lyra. It seems to be a part of the princess’ character. The individuals she sees daily, namely her brother, her attendant, and Lady Amelinne, seem close enough to her and to one another to communicate wordlessly. The princess possesses an enviable ability to draw people closer to her.
But perhaps what has caught my interest the most is her confirmation of my suspicions. There have been rumours circulating for a long time regarding the king, his nobles, and their conduct. Very few people from the north frequent the capital enough to uncover the truth, and both the previous duke and I have been preoccupied curtailing demon infestations. I do not covet the throne myself, but I also do not want Baldwin Venvaris to sit on it. He is a selfish ruler, too easily played, and his son, Crown Prince Hayden Venvaris, is not enough to keep him in check. The west has been given a long leash for too long and is now threatening villages on the northern border with heavy taxes and the threat of civil war. A rumour like this may be just enough to dethrone Baldwin, with the hope that his son will do better. If I also have the princess, perhaps an underhanded approach can be traded for a forced abdication with the vote of the nobles. Her reputation is notorious, not helped by her illegitimate status, but she shows promise.
Over the past few days, I have thought of her letter numerous times. She wrote about the deficiencies of the armies established in other dukedoms, but not with self-depreciation or criticism. She asked for the north to share its knowledge with no promise of an immediate return. The letter spoke about the benefits of an open exchange of information, inferring the disadvantage an isolated dukedom like the north might face. It was a bold letter, but artfully written. And what is more, she was correct. The week I have spent in the capital has already provided me with a potential method of curbing the growing western influence that might soon become a blight on my land.
It is now impossible to ignore Princess Lyra Venvaris. And even if it was, I would no longer choose to.
