Stella and Fabrian walked side by side down the road. He kept to the right of Fabrian, his height and long flowing coat effectively blocking her from most people as they kept to the road closest to the shop fronts. Fabrian observed the situation wrly. Daphis had teased that Stella wasn't all that important of a politician in Agan, but if he was keeping himself hidden, maybe it really was a joke. Just who was this man that he needed to keep his face hidden walking in broad daylight amongst the everyday peddlers and pedestrians?

“Do you want to talk about Reiyn or the knights first?” Stella asked, his gaze sliding down to her away from the road. 

“Your son?”

Stella offered her an apologetic nod. “I noticed you were uncomfortable by my mentioning of him.”

“It's none of my business,” Fabrian said stiffly, avoiding his gaze now. “Your family is your own, that in itself is a lovely thing. You just seem kind of young to have knocked up anyone.”

God, way to make things awkward Fabrian.

“Knocked up? Now that's a turn of phrase,” Stella let out an amused laugh. “I'm flattered by your illusion of me being young, however, I turn thirty next harvest.”

Fabrian waved nonchalantly. “You're still plenty young, I turn thirty in three years.”

Stella tilted his head and offered her a puzzled look. “Do you?”

Fabrian realized she did. The nameless queen did not. “Oh you're right…” She laughed sheepishly. “Maybe I'm a few years out from that. Bad at math and all. But how did you know that?”

“A wild guess,” Stella hummed to himself. He didn't say anything else for a while. 

As they made their way down the road, he was no longer the only person wearing the large white coat. There were others, who Fabrian presumed to be scholars if it was an academy's coat, who wandered around with the long flowing apparel, seeming like meandering ghosts during the day. 

“Reiyn is adopted. I am tragically a bachelor and without a biological heir,” Stella finally broke the silence, offering a small smile before his expression became more pinched. “A close friend of mine died during his travels to our neighboring country, Natalez. There wasn't an immediate next of kin in his family that didn't want Reiyn for their own personal gain, so I adopted him.”

“No child should have to deal with familial politics. That was kind of you,” Fabrian said softly. Now she just felt like a jerk. “How old is he?”

“He's five,” Stella answered stiffly. “He still remembers his father, so I'm more of an over-glorified uncle than anything. Personally, I wouldn't want it any other way. His father should still be in his life raising him, not me.” 

Fabrian pursed her lips. As someone who would never see her parents again, she understood. “Can…I ask what happened?”

Stella's face darkened and his eyes were pained. “His father, Thandir, was an envoy. An ambassador to be exact. He was on a diplomatic mission to discuss the emigration crisis with King Adrian. The plan was to offer a treatise that allowed safe passage into the country for all Natalez citizens should they want to immigrate and settle here in Agan. We were to parley for equal consideration towards any Aganian who wished to become a citizen of Natalez.”

Fabrian felt a pit form in her stomach.

“It was reported that Thandir and the four other envoys were beheaded instantly upon meeting King Adrian.” Stella’s fist clenched by his side and his amber gaze narrowed as he stared stubbornly ahead. 

This was the first envoy group that suffered the assassination attempt intended for the King of Agan. It had been ambassadors who went in his stead—that’s why he hadn't perished. Fabrian forced herself not to wince. She was not guilty in this situation. But the Queen of Natalez, where had she been when Reiyn's father had been killed? Was she there in that throne room where red was spilt upon the floor, hidden beneath the already crimson rugs that decorated the glossy tile ballroom. Or had she been oblivious, out somewhere lavishing in spent goods as she wiled away any money granted to her. 

Both were terrible options, and Fabrian felt bits of her lungs eaten away as she ruminated on both. Her mouth was dry.

“So why do you want to become a knight, Fabrian?” Stella asked darkly, stopping and turning to her. “Because as a Knight of Agan, you will be required to protect the king, his cabinet, and those of his court with your life.”

Fabrian also stopped. A chill crept up her spine. “Stella, I will ask you again. Do you know me?”

He pressed his mouth thinly before he sighed. “No, I suppose not. But you’re one hell of a phantom; she's probably long gone by now though.”

“Is that the truth?” Fabrian demanded, stepping closer to him. 

Mollified a little, Stella offered a weak nod. “I don't know you, Fabrian.”

Sighing, Fabrian crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself. She kicked an offensive white rock by her foot, watching it as it cantered down the road before eventually skittering off into a ditch.

“My whole life was spent trying to figure out what I wanted to do, who I wanted to be,” she finally said. “For my parents, it was a farmer for their orchard, then a good student to learn to take over their business. But what did I want to do?”

She gripped her arms tightly, her nails digging into her skin. “I wanted to be strong. I wanted to train my body until no one could question my strength. So that way, one day, I could step in front of someone who needed me, and defend them.”

Stella's gaze searched her desperately, as if waiting for her to say anything that would contradict that. The amber in his eyes slowly melted until it was tired. Somehow, she figured he was lying. Or maybe he wasn't. Stella really didn't know her; but maybe he knew someone else. 

“I want to become a knight to help people,” Fabrian said resolutely. “It's as plain as that. So yes. Should I be demanded to protect the king and his people, I'll do that. In a heartbeat.”

Stella huffed, his chuckle lacking its usual amused tone. “I'm quite aware of your sense of chivalry. I suppose it’s just good to know you're sincere.”

Fabrian gave his arm a light pat. “I'm always sincere.”

“The Knights of Agan used to be our pride until the local governments began to strip their assets,” Stella said. “So know that you will have to prove yourself every step of your way. Nothing as a knight will come easy to you. Unfortunately more so as a female knight.”

Smirking, Fabrian shrugged. “I'd rather work for it anyways. It's no fun if everything is easy.”

Stella at last allowed his countenance to lighten. He seemed to borderline between being bewildered and bemused. “Somehow, from the little bit I've come to know you, I expected no less of an answer.”

“I'll prove it to you.” Fabrian said, standing her ground. “I will become one of the best knights you know.”

“And that says something, because clearly I know all knights.” Stella responded. “Then prove it to me Fabrian, I'll be eager to see you do it.”

“It's a promise then.”

“Good,” Stella said, turning back towards the direction they came from. “Because I rather like your company. Make sure to let me know how you place from tryouts.”

Fabrian's cheeks warmed, and heat bloomed along the bridge of her nose. “So, see you later, Stella?”

“See you later, Fabrian,” He said, walking away with a wave. 

Fabrian stood still, watching his white coat until he disappeared into the crowd on the thoroughfare. 

“That was the most painful flirting I've ever had to watch,” Netali suddenly spoke, stepping up beside Fabrian.

“Jesus!” Fabrian jumped, twisting sharply to look at Netali. “Where did you come from?”

“You're literally standing in the entryway to Adel's plaza.” Netali said deadpan. “And Jesus? What's that?”

“Don't worry about it,” Fabrian said, pinching the bridge of her nose. Netali was right. From the parked wagons to the overhead garlands and their glittering glass beads, it was very clear she'd made it to the merchant stop. She just hadn't realized they walked all the way to the West Side in such a short amount of time. 

“Well good, because you and I have a conversation to be had,” Netali said grimly, grabbing Fabrian's collar and dragging her towards the plaza. “Cleri and Armon have some words for you too. Come, we need to discuss your little stunt with the knights.”

“Oh c'mon Netali, we can talk things out,” Fabrian pleaded as she hobbled along after Netali.

“Negative. We have only a few hours before we need to rest up before leaving. That should be plenty of time,” Netali said.

“Time for what?”

Netali did not answer.

“Time for what Netali? I won't do it again, it was an accident and there was a sword—” Despite her best excuses, Fabrian was still shepherded to the hostel where the other guards were staying. 

Hail had been right. Netali and the others had three hours worth of scolding in them.