"Do that over," scolded Cedric. Alaina pushed herself off of the floor and got back into her defensive stance. Her father swung a tree branch at her right side, and she failed to dodge it. She stumbled too hard and was back on the cold ground. "Did you not get enough sleep?"

Alaina stood and brushed dirt off of her clothes. "I'm behind an outhouse at four o'clock in the morning," she murmured, careful not to make too much noise.

"You don't get to pick the time and place that a guard or constable attacks you. Do this again."

Usually, Alaina dominated her father every time she trained behind the outhouse before the sun rose. Somehow, this morning was different. She shook her head to clear her mind and brought her tree branch in front of her. "I'm noticing a disconnect," her father said. "Even though this is not a real sword, you have to think of it as an extension of your arm. You will make it easier for your opponent if you let your own weapon overpower you." She nodded and placed her feet in the proper position.

Cedric swung the branch again. This time, she blocked it from striking her in the face, pushing it forward and making it knock her father's branch backwards. She twirled it in a clean semicircle, tripping him, and then immediately pointed the branch in his face. "That was much better," he said with a nod of approval.

Cedric rose to his feet. "How are you doing with your magic?"

"I suppose I've been getting better."

"Demonstrate," her father ordered. "Move the pebbles in the air."

She gazed at the hand she held out in front of her. Just one swift motion, she thought. Alaina turned her full attention to the pebbles. She curled her fingers and her wrist, which resulted in the gathering of what appeared as a violet shimmer around her hand- her unique, but destructive magic. She aimed for the pebbles on the ground, and they too began to develop the shimmer. She pulled her arm back and brought them closer to her. With a quick snap of her wrist, she sent the pebbles flying towards Cedric's chest. "I'm better than you think," she giggled.

"I just need assurance that you have control. Without proper control-"

"You have lost the battle," Alaina murmured with him. "I understand."

"Control does not stop at manipulating the objects around you. You need to watch your movements around any guard or constable. King Ferdinand would have you killed if any suspicion arises."

Alaina blinked. She had known since she was a little girl that she would live her life in secret. There would be no major attention brought to her or her father. There would be no one that she could safely have any sort of relationship with besides him.

"I understand," she repeated.

"Now, we need to return to the pen before we are missed."

  ♦ ♦ ♦

"Chin up, Alexander. Would you rather have your mother scold you for arriving at the breakfast table in such a way? The prince of Edgeworth ought to know better." His maid had been touching his face and running her fingers through his hair for what felt like an eternity. He was struggling to keep his eyes open. "Why did you think the hour for breakfast was a good time to nap?" she continued.

"Forgive me, Marge. I must have dozed off," he said, his voice distorted in a yawn.

"Well, do not doze off at the table, unless you enjoy the sound of Queen Magdalena's scorns," she replied, pulling an indigo coat over him.

"I'm guaranteed to hear them if I'm late. Thank you, Marge, for the help."

Prince Alexander, accompanied by two guards, made his way down the long corridors of the castle before he reached the dining hall. Once he arrived, the two guards took a stance just outside of the entrance. He he was a bit early, as the maids were still smoothing out the crimson and gold table cloth. Still, he took his designated seat.

"I sincerely apologize for the belated breakfast, Prince Alexander," one of them said. He smiled at her. "Don't fret, I'm early. There is no apology needed."

"Thank you, Prince Alexander," she stammered, bowing to him. She placed a basket of fresh fruit on the table and put a spoonful in a dish for every royal family member. "The rest will be out in a moment."

Her attention turned towards the entrance of the dining hall, and she bowed again. "King Ferdinand, Prince Tristian, and Queen Magdalena. I am pleased to be in your presence," she said, her voice still shaking. Alexander turned to see the rest of his family. His mother wore a long and bejeweled magenta gown, and golden jewels were placed in her dark hair. Both Tristian and their father wore emerald cloaks detailed with golden stitching.

He thought they were all utterly overdressed, but it was for the sake of looking like royalty.

Maids had rushed to pull chairs for the rest of the family and filled the table with breakfast items. For the first few moments, the dining hall was noiseless, save for the utensils clinking against dishes. Tristian interrupted the silence.

"I noticed you held your gaze on a particular slave at the auction, Alexander. Are you wishing to purchase her?" he asked.

Ferdinand turned to him. "This would be your first slave, would it not?"

"Yes it would be, father. Perhaps I should make the purchase."

"I suspected that she was the daughter of the ex-constable," his older brother pressed on.

"Cedric?" his mother chimed in. Her face whitened at the subject of the name, and Alexander knew that his own complexion had probably reddened. The subject of his father's once most trusted constable was still sensitive.

"Yes, Cedric," Ferdinand began. "He still bears his head on his shoulders for few reasons. Execution was too much of a blessing."

"What else could you have done as punishment?" asked his mother.

There was a momentary pause. "Enslave them both in the castle," Tristian suggested. "Our poppy and cotton fields could keep them busy, or whatever Alexander wishes to have them tend to."

Alexander froze. Was he being handed a task? "It is your proposal. Do you want them?" he asked.

"I do enough with overseeing the others," Tristian said with a smirk. You neglected to mention my lack of experience, he thought sourly. He didn't appreciate Tristian's games, but he could still prove him inferior. He would have to learn to have control over situations involving his brother.

"Is there an objection?" he asked his mother and father. Ferdinand stood at the table. "Get it done as soon as possible." With that, his father left the table, and Tristian followed.

Magdalena placed her hand over his. "Do not think of this as some sort of assignment," she began. "If you are going to take this, you would have to fulfill the spot of an overseer properly."

He squeezed her hand. "I'm not worried, though I appreciate your concern."

"The both of them are testing you again, Alexander. That comes with being in the royal family."

"I understand."

His mother kissed his cheek before leaving the dining hall. He leaned back in his seat and sighed heavily. Within almost no time, his family had the discussed the past, present, and future fate of a slave.

He was almost ashamed for it.

He stood from the table and beckoned the constable that had just walked in the dining hall. He bowed to him. "Captain Holt," he greeted.

"At your service, Prince Alexander."

"I need you and your best men for a task."

"What is this task?"

"A field trip to the slave pen. I need this within the next few days."

Holt bowed again. "I will let them know."