Princess Kate's morning began in slow-paced reminiscing over her night with Andre. She fondly recalled their conversation, and by doing so, she rekindled the warm feeling she'd experienced then. Her mind lingered especially long on their parting kiss. Now her heart ached for more of the young knight-to-be's company, and she resolved that she'd have to treat him to dinner the next time.

Then a rap on her door snatched her attention from such thoughts, and Kate grinned. Only one person in the whole kingdom would have the audacity to knock with anything more than a timid tap, and that would be her father. She leapt off of her bed and hastened to open to him.

Kate swung the door open with a cheery smile on her face, only for it to drop at the sight of her father's somber countenance and lusterless eyes speaking of a crushed spirit. She reached out her arms for a comforting embrace, which he readily accepted.

"What happened, father?" she asked softly as she rested her head on his chest.

Maxwell's breath left his nostrils in a jerky manner. "I received terrible news this morning."

From there, he went on to elaborate, informing Kate that Manfred had come to see him not an hour prior. Maxwell told her of the young man's report of Juan's treachery and murder of Alden Holt, and then the following fight between them. His delivery of the information slowed and his voice broke as he came to Juan's death.

Kate comforted Maxwell as well as she could, utilizing hugs, kisses, and words to that end. He thanked her for the support before requesting that she do him a favor and oversee an investigation into the matter. Kate readily agreed, so she playfully kicked her father out of the room so she could get properly dressed.

After a quick breakfast, Kate emerged. Her first order of business was to send a messenger off to Tom Holt's academy to deliver the news. Then she sought out a coroner and walked with him to the knight's hall. She dared not enter the dining chamber herself for her stomach's sake, but lingered nearby so she could hear the verdict.

At first, the coroner had been overwhelmingly blunt in expressing his suspicions of Manfred having killed them both for some reason or another, ostensibly some sort of prejudice against men of the upper class. But Kate couldn't imagine that being the case, given his character and disposition.

So Kate wasn't surprised at all when the coroner emerged after his examination and declared that the matter appeared to be exactly as Manfred had said. The stab wound in Alden's chest curved upward, indicating that a saber had made the cut. Manfred's straight-edged longsword could do no such thing, but Juan's easily could.

Still, as the two made their way through a corridor of the knight's hall to find the High Council chamber, the coroner wrestled with new ways to incriminate Manfred. Perhaps, he speculated, Manfred had actually killed Juan first, and then taken Juan's saber to kill Alden. After giving birth to this theory, the blond-haired man appeared rather proud of himself.

But after ensuring she'd heard correctly that Alden's body was closer to the door, Kate countered, saying she found it unlikely Manfred could move so quickly as to fight Juan, slay him, and take his sword, all before Alden could escape or prepare himself to fight back. And surely with Alden's mastery in the Torlenian style of swordsmanship, he would never fall to an attack that he could see coming that long before it arrived.

"The only way anybody could kill Alden Holt would be to slay him while his sword was still in its scabbard." she said in conclusion.

The blond-haired man acquiesced with a shrug and fell silent.

Along the way to the High Council chamber, Kate stopped every knight she encountered and briefly interviewed them to obtain their opinions on Juan Feliz. For the most part, their opinions amounted to vague notions of the man's greatness, citing some secondhand account of his heroism or speaking of a chance meeting in the hallway that they subsequently seemed to have blown out of proportion. Overall, Kate found the common knights' opinions not to be all that insightful, and for the most part, she learned nothing new.

But eventually, Kate and the coroner arrived at the doorstep of the knights' High Council chamber. She entered without knocking and swept her eyes over the eight old men assembled inside, who appeared entirely clueless about both her present arrival and the morning's events as a whole. With a huff, she recounted the tale of Sir Holt and Feliz's demises, with the coroner supplementing here and there with the vivid details she'd been unaware of.

Kate left a moment of silence for the old men to process the grief that became visible on their faces. Some silently hung their heads, while others buried their entire faces in the table and moaned loudly. One patchy-haired knight pursed his lips once at the news, but appeared otherwise unaffected.

Once it appeared they had all recovered for the moment, Kate entered into her questioning. In turn, she asked each man for their impression of the man Juan had been, following that up with a comparison of their perceptions with Manfred's report. While half of the old knights vehemently protested the accusations, the other four's reactions ranged from calm acceptance to vigorous nodding as if they'd just had longstanding suspicions confirmed.

An open discussion followed, and when one knight mentioned how strange it was Juan had never publicly trained any students, Kate considered Manfred's report further confirmed. She thanked the men for their time before departing. With the coroner's evidence and some accumulated insight from the remaining members of the High Council, she resolved to find her father and inform him that her investigation seemed to give Manfred's report validity.

A pang struck her heart, however, when she considered the difficulty of delivering the news to Andre. Even if it weren't Kate herself bearing the message, she would certainly have to witness his grief nonetheless. The princess shuddered at the thought of what this turn of events could do to Andre and Manfred's friendship.

****

Andre galloped toward the royal castle atop his fiery stallion with his brow furrowed and heart pounding at double the tempo of the hoofbeats beneath him. Wind rustled through his dark hair as frenzied thoughts tore across his brain.

Early that morning, Andre and his father had engaged in a pleasant conversation about his dinner with Princess Kate the night prior over a game of chess. Juan had showered his son with praise and expressions of vicarious pride while simultaneously besting him game after game. Andre had found himself mildly displeased with his constant losing, but his frustration was balanced out by Juan's validation and the mere chance to spend time together.

But after five rounds won, Juan had risen to his feet and declared he had a letter to deliver personally to Sir Alden Holt, after which he would promptly return and resume playing.

"I will not rest until I see your success rival my own, my son." Juan said before galloping off.

That had been a few hours ago. Surely that was more than enough time to deliver a simple letter and even carry on a conversation about its contents if need be. The increasing length of his father's absence perplexed Andre, and he just couldn't shake a sneaking suspicion that there was something odd about it.

Andre swiftly settled his horse in the stable before entering the castle. The very atmosphere inside struck him as oddly somber, which only stirred up his worried heart more. He stopped the first servant he came across with a firm grip on the man's shoulder.

"Excuse me, but do you know where my father is? Sir Juan Feliz?" Andre asked, "Is he consulting with the king?"

The servant blinked hard twice and looked away. "You don't know?"

"I don't know what?"

"I'm just...surprised you haven't heard the news." the man rubbed a hand over his patchy beard. "He's gone, sir."

"Gone?" Andre's eyes shot open. "Gone as in...?"

"Yes. Neck sliced right open."

"How...what hap—who did it?"

The servant shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "It was your pal. Manfred something or the other."

Andre's hand leapt up to his heart. "No. No, that can't be! Manfred would never do such a thing!"

"I'm sorry, sir, but the facts are the facts."

"I don't believe you for a moment! Manfred would sweat a river at the thought of slaying a lamb for dinner, so far would it be from him to slaughter a countryman! And especially my father of all men!"

"I don't know what to tell you, sir." the servant mumbled, "Maybe you should talk to him yourself."

"Do you know where he is?" Andre asked with a stare so intense it seemed to be focused into the man's very soul.

"Not for certain, no. I mean, chances are he's outside, but that's only my guess."

Without another word, Andre hustled off, jogging down a castle corridor in search of a way outside. He shoved a door open and dashed into the sunlight, startling a pair of sheep inside their fold, as well as the shepherd grooming them. Andre hurried along the south wall of the castle, eyes darting about for Manfred.

At last, he spotted Manfred sitting atop a bale of hay in the distance. Andre cupped his hands together and called out to him, but Manfred didn't appear to have heard. Andre's frustration grew when his friend hopped down and made his way inside again. Hurrying his pace to follow, Andre leapt onto the steps just before the door and dashed inside.

"Hey, Manfred!" Andre called, his voice echoing through the large chamber he now found himself in.

Manfred whirled to face Andre, peeking around one of the many pillars supporting the roof above their heads. "Andre!" he replied, "Good to—"

"Is it true?" Andre asked as he swiftly closed the distance between them. When he came to a stop, his face lingered only inches from Manfred's. "I just heard something truly terrible about you, my friend, and I can't believe it!"

Manfred visibly swallowed. "What...what'd you hear?"

"Well, I was told that my father was killed, and by none other than you! Is it really true?"

"I...well...I didn't want to."

"That wasn't my question. Did you do it?" Andre demanded.

An oppressive silence followed before Manfred finally croaked out an answer. "Yes."

Andre stumbled back, eyes wide with shock and rapidly growing moist. "Why...why would you do that? How could you?"

"I...he...he'd just assassinated Alden Holt. I happened to be nearby. I swear...I only meant to take him to the king...answer for his crime. But my blade slipped, and..."

"My father would do no such thing! He was a man of honor and integrity! He was noble, courageous, and kind, not a treacherous, cold-blooded monster!"

Manfred sucked in a deep breath, eyes darting rapidly between Andre's. Finally, his gaze plummeted to his feet. "I understand you...where you're coming from here. But I know what I saw. I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Andre spat, "For murdering my father based on a mere suspicion?"

"No, Andre. No suspicion at all. It's...I saw your father standing over Alden's dead body, bloody sword in hand. And he didn't deny it either. He laid it out for me...horrible things. Your father's been working for both Monterayne and Innutuk for years. He said so himself."

"I don't believe it! I am both unwilling and unable to!" Andre took in a deep breath and hardened his glare on Manfred. "I don't know what's happened to you, Manfred, but you've changed, and I don't like it."

Manfred's lips parted, but no words came out. His eyebrows jerked together slightly when Andre's fingers wrapped around the hilt of his sword. His eyelids widened when Andre pulled it up a bit, revealing the first few inches of the blade.

"I'm sorry, Andre!" Manfred cried, trembling, "I was only...just trying to do my duty. Really, what was I supposed to do?"

"Not kill my father?" Andre shouted, "You could have tried that. You could have stopped for a second to think of me. How is it you didn't stop to think—"

"I already said, Andre. I never meant to kill him! It was just...in the midst of fighting—"

"You shouldn't have engaged him, then!" Andre's sword emerged fully from its scabbard with a ring. "You should have fled! I thought you said you've have my back. You promised!" he said, voice breaking up as he did so.

"It's still true!" Manfred insisted, "But your father—"

"He's dead by your hand! And I can't look past that."

Andre stared silently at Manfred for a good few seconds while rage brewed inside him and flowed through his veins thicker than blood itself. Every beat of his throbbing heart sent another surge of wrath into his forehead. It accumulated there and deepened his frown.

Finally, he gritted his teeth and threw himself at Manfred with the tip of his sword aimed at his heart. Manfred's widened eyes were the last thing Andre saw before he tightly shut his own.