It had been a quiet morning in the camp at Ashford, the noise of the ongoing joust faint in the background. Princess Valarra, dressed in her black armor, paced the tent, her blue eyes narrowed in thought as she readied for her joust.

The sound of footsteps interrupted her thoughts. A familiar voice followed.*

"Your grace, the lists are ready for the second round," came the voice of her squire, a young boy from the reach, holding her lance and helmet.

Valarra turned toward him, her face hardening as she nodded. "I know. Help me dress boy." she said quietly, a slight edge to her tone.