Chapter One

A/N: This is a sequel to "Tarnish," my previous Seth/Eirika fic. It's not necessary to have read it to understand this story, but there are spoilers so I do recommend reading "Tarnish" first. For those who did read the first one, glad to see you again. Hope you enjoy ths one too! Reviews are, of course, appreciated.

ooo

"Take Eirika and head for Frelia." Those words had chilled her to the bone the moment they had fallen from her father's lips.

"Father, you can't stay– you mustn't!" An icy hand seemed to grip her heart. The life she had known and loved was falling away from her and all she could think to do was clutch at it with what little strength she possessed. "If you remain behind, then so shall I!" she shouted, but her words echoed hollowly off the marble walls of the throne room as her father turned to look away from her and towards the knight who stood at her side.

"Go now, Seth. Ride! Take her to safety!" he told the Silver Knight. And then he turned on his heel and walked away without another word to her, without a goodbye or a smile, with neither a word of reproach nor of encouragement.

With the lucidity that came in dreams on the edge of wakefulness, she knew this was the last time she would see her father. She tried to reach out, to go after him, speak with him– anything– but she was frozen in place and when she called after him, her voice was full of anguish. "Father!" But he was already gone.

"Forgive me, your highness," she heard Seth say an instant before she was swept up in his arms and enveloped by the warmth of his body. She closed her eyes and soon the impression of that warmth was all that remained.

ooo

Eirika opened her eyes slowly, fully awake, but feeling the lingering presence of the dream, like an unwelcome guest in her bedchamber. She rubbed at her eyes and tried to root herself in the here and now. It had been over three years since the end of the war, but some moments remained carved into her memory and returned to her with a terrible vividness, like spilled blood that would not dry. Her heart ached at the thought of her father, of her last glimpse of him, marching away out of the throne room, shoulders squared, head held high– the King of Renais to the very last. Always he had loved her, doted on her as a father while, as a King, teaching her to fulfill the obligations of her rank as Princess of Renais. He had said she was a gentle soul, like her mother, and now, when Eirika thought on the war and the blood she had shed for her country, she wondered sometimes if he would still call her so.

The sun was beginning to peek through a gap in the silk bed curtains which had not been fully drawn for, though fall was fast approaching, the days remained comfortably warm even here in Carcino. But the warmth of that pale sunbeam could not compare to the heat that radiated from the man who lay next to her. With his auburn hair mussy with sleep, the muscles of his face a blank mask of relaxation, and one muscular arm folded beneath his head, Seth hardly looked like the great general of Renais, the famed Silver Knight. Instead, he looked liked her entirely human and very much flesh and blood husband.

For a moment, Eirika drank in the sight of him as the encroaching sunbeam gave his skin a lustrous, golden hue, and set his hair aflame, like the gods in the frescoes of the local temple. Her lips twitched at the thought. Her dear Silver Knight, thought so cool and austere, pristine... untouchable... Yet to her, he was nothing other than burnished gold, a little tarnished at the edges perhaps, but full of warmth and gentleness. She leaned into him and tangled her fingers in his fiery mane as she whispered in his ear. "It's time to rise, my love."

His chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath. After a moment, he opened his eyes and hoisted himself into a sitting position. She admired the muscles of his arms and chest as he moved, the sleek line of his collar bone, the perfect curve of his back and shoulders, though, as always, her eyes lingered on the jagged scar where Valter's lance had struck him all those years ago. But then her eyes leaped to his face and the bristly growth on his chin as he yawned. A smile spread over her features. She never told anyone, not even Tana or her brother– it sounded ridiculous, she knew– how much it warmed her heart to see Seth yawn; he never did so when he was on duty, as he seemed always to be save when they were alone. She'd never seen him yawn till the morning after their wedding night.

"You're awfully sleepy this morning," she said, as she, too, sat up. He was usually awake shortly before dawn and was not prone to lounging in bed. She let her fingers trace down his back and smiled as he caught her hand in his and brought her fingers to his lips, sending a shiver down her spine.

"And who might be responsible for that?" he asked, his lips quirking into a wry smile.

"I don't know what you mean," Eirika protested.

"As I recall," he whispered, his voice husky as he leaned close to her, "someone kept me up rather late last night."

She sniffed. "I don't believe a knight of Renais is permitted to address his princess with such impertinence."

"He is when he's in his own bedchambers."

"But if you notice," she countered, "we're not in our own chambers and there's likely to be talk if we continue to lounge all morning."

He cupped her face and smiled. "Ah, well we certainly can't have that, my lady. To think anyone would suspect you of dallying with a simple knight."

She ran her fingers through his hair. "I would never dally with anyone other than my dear husband– who happens to be the finest knight in all of Renais." His lips curved into that certain smile of his, the one that made him look like a boy who'd just stolen a kiss from a young lass. When he smiled like that she could almost imagine him as a squire, for, although she had known him before he'd been knighted, her memories were the slightly skewed recollections of a child who'd had to crane her neck to look up at him. But he'd been only a boy, a young man, in those days, and sometimes, when he was particularly pleased, he looked like one once again, if only for an instant.

In a short while they managed to wash, dress, and have a quick bite to eat before heading outside to the corner of the estate grounds that had become their training area. Over the course of the past week, the servants in the city hall of Kartan, Carcino's capital, where she and Seth had been staying, had gotten used to their apparently eccentric habits. It seemed the men and women who made up the Council of Elders were not in the habit of rising at dawn and practising their swordsmanship. Seth and Eirika's morning training sessions had become something of a spectacle to the servants and the few others who happened to be up and about in the early hours of the day.

Though Kartan's city hall could not properly be called either a castle or palace, the edifice was quite large and the grounds, extensive. They had been given to understand that it had once been the private estate of a nobleman who had fallen upon bad times and sold the land to a group of powerful merchants, the forerunners of the Council of Elders. The original building, where the guest quarters were located, had been added on to in order to include rooms suitable for meetings of the Council and the various state functions the Council was responsible for. The original building had been constructed from heavy slate-grey stone and appeared squat and blocky next to the graceful lines of the sprawling additions. With a lithe, pale tower at each corner and a lantern-crowned dome over the central section of the building, the hall towered over the city. It was strange to Eirika to look up at the edifice, so different from Castle Renais, which had been built centuries ago with defence in mind. The city of Kartan, however, would be next to impossible to defend and its grand city hall was certainly not the fortress she expected to see when she visited a foreign capital. But Kartan was inland and the country of Carcino relied on the mountains surrounding it and the network of forts along these to secure its defence.

Turning her thoughts from building, Eirika smiled and breathed deeply of the morning air which was scented with the many flowers that were tended by a small army of gardeners. Though in a few minutes her mind would be entirely taken up by the rhythm of swordplay, as she and Seth walked the cobbled path through the grounds, she allowed herself a moment to admire both the familiar and exotic late summer blooms: plumed celosia, impatiens, globe amaranth, canas, and salvia, all in a brilliant array of red and orange as if the grounds had been overtaken by flames. Walking here at this early hour before the city officials came in for work, it was difficult to believe that they were in the heart of a bustling trade city.

"What is it?" she asked, as she noticed Seth's eyes upon her and the quiet smile on his lips.

He shook his head. "It's nothing."

"Seth," she drawled, one eyebrow raised, "don't make me order you."

"I was only thinking that I'd prefer to admire you than the flowers."

"Flatterer," she said, and, smiling, she grabbed hold of his doublet and tugged him closer to place a kiss on his lips. Time alone together without any guardsmen or servants about was a great luxury and she relished every moment of it. When they parted, she could not help but grin. "I have no intention of going easy on you during our match, though."

Seth's lips twitched, but he managed to say with great seriousness, "Nor I, your highness."

When the path led them to a wide patch of grass, surrounded by a low hemlock hedge, it was difficult not to notice the five or six groundskeepers who had all decided to trim the hedges or tend the patches of flowers at this particular hour of the morning– not to mention the handful of city officials who had decided to take breakfast at an outdoor table in the corner of the enclosure. Eirika sighed and cast a sideways glance towards Seth who shrugged. She supposed it was no worse than when they trained in the courtyard at Castle Renais except that at home people were used to their training and did not make them feel like a spectacle.

Eirika was not unaware of how unusual it was for a princess to be armed. After all L'Arachel was a healer and never wielded anything more threatening than a staff, and Tana, though she kept up her training as a pegasus knight as best she could considering her duties as Queen of Renais, did not appear armed in public. So, too, was it unusual for a princess to spar every day with one of her knights. However, after the events of three years ago, wherein one of their own soldiers had made an attempt on Seth's life, and on hers as well as a result, Eirika had never been able to break the habit of wearing her sword at all times. Truth be told, no one had tried to break her of the habit either and Seth and Ephraim both had been entirely supportive of her decision to continue her training in swordplay.

Once they came to stand in the centre of the green, Seth drew his sword. "Are you ready, my lady?" Though he called her so every day, it was strange to hear him say "my lady" or "your highness" in earnest as he always did in front of others. It was difficult to hear it and keep a straight face when she thought of how he spoke those words with the utmost irony when they were alone. Sometimes, no matter how serious his tone and how sober an air he wore, she still thought she caught a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he said it.

Taking a deep breath, Eirika tried to clear her mind. For a moment she let her hand rest on her hilt. When she finally drew the sword, her thoughts were as sharp as the blade's edge.

They took cautious steps towards each other. She watched him for any telltale signs, the tensing of muscles before he leaped forward to strike, but Seth's movements were as seamless as ever and she just barely had time to react as he lunged. She parried the blow and countered. His blade blocked the attack easily, but so, too, did she block his succeeding attack. Though he still outclassed her in swordsmanship, after all this time she knew the rhythm of his movements like no other opponent.

The flow of their movements, the steady stream of his attacks and her lightning ripostes, was now a familiar dance. She recognised the precise set of his shoulders before he feinted and when he lunged. She knew the way his body moved, the nimbleness of his steps. Every inch of him was familiar to her, caressed by her fingertips, kissed by her lips.

But he knew her just as well. He knew that speed was her greatest asset and made up for it with his flawless technique and pressed his attack until she was breathless. When finally one of his counters got past her guard and she found his sword point over her heart, she could only marvel at his skill. There was no doubt in her mind that Seth was the finest swordsman in Renais.

"Nicely played!"

Eirika and Seth both turned to look in the direction of the speaker who approached them, clapping politely and smiling broadly. Councilman Gustav, son of Councilman Klimt who had sided with Renais during the War of the Stones, gave a half bow as he came to stand before them. He was a man of middle years with greying chestnut hair and an immaculately trimmed beard. His brocaded jacket with its gold buttons and gold thread scroll work, was conservative compared to the dress of many of the other members of the Council of Elders, particularly its younger members, mostly sons and daughters of the council members who'd been assassinated by Pablo's forces. That the merchants of Carcino wore their wealth had come as a bit of a shock when she'd first arrived, for she had not seen such elaborate garments since her brother's coronation. Upon reflection, she'd realized it was their way of making up for their lack of title.

"Good morning, Councilman," Eirika greeted him, sheathing her sword and wiping her brow.

"You keep early hours, Councilman," Seth added as he brushed back a few strands of hair that were plastered to his forehead. Eirika held back a smile, gratified to see that he had worked up a sweat. It had taken a great deal of training for her to reach a level at which she could provide him with any sort of challenge.

"I was hoping to see one of these matches of yours that I've heard so much about," Gustav said. "I'm quite impressed."

"Thank you," Eirika replied, only now noticing the item, some three feet in length, wrapped in black cloth, tucked under his arm.

"I brought something along," Gustav said. "I hope you'll indulge me a moment." He proceeded to draw away the cloth to reveal an unremarkable sword in a plain leather scabbard. It had a regular crossguard and neither it nor the hilt were ornamented, nor were there any special markings on the blade as he drew it from its sheathe. "Sir Seth, could I impose upon you to try out this blade?"

Seth's brow crinkled in puzzlement, but he nodded. "Certainly." He took the blade from Gustav and held it for a moment. He adjusted his grip on the hilt several time, frowning slightly, and performed a series of basic sword thrusts. With each movement his frown deepened and Eirika did not need to ask to know his opinion of the blade.

"Seth?" she began tentatively.

He shook his head. "Shall we go again?"

"Are you certain?"

His lips thinned to a line, Seth nodded. Gustav cleared out of the way and she and Seth took up position on the green once more. Her heart was hammering against her ribs; the look on Seth's face was not the air of calm concentration she was accustomed to seeing before a match. Eirika did not have to hear him speak the words to know that she needed to keep her guard up. He adjusted his grip on the hilt once more before he looked to her and nodded.

Eirika darted forward and Seth met her blade for blade. The shock of the blow rattled up her arm but she held firm; three years of training had strengthened her grip where once she would have faltered and fallen back. Even so, Seth had the advantage in height and strength and forced her away. She fell back, expecting him to press his attack as he was wont to do in a normal match, but instead he hesitated, taking half a step and then pausing to adjust his grip on the hilt.

She kept her guard up as she spoke. "Seth are you certain..."

"It's fine. Come," he said with a curt nod.

She feinted, but he read her movement and parried the blow that followed. He attacked; she blocked and countered. The steps were the same as always, but the rhythm of the dance had changed from a steady flow to a spasmodic stagger. The timing of his attacks was off; it was slight, but noticeable to her after more than three years of sparring with him. There was a hesitance to his movements that was utterly unknown to him under regular circumstances. When she saw one such moment of hesitation– the slightest pause before a lunge– she took advantage of it and sidestepped. She'd expected him to swing around and counter her attack and she was more than a little shocked when, instead, she found her blade resting at his throat.

Eirika drew her sword away and stepped back."Seth? Are you well?" She kept her eyes on his face as he straightened and squared his shoulders. But the flicker of pain she always glimpsed when the wound from Valter's spear ached, was absent. There had been no hint of stiffness in his movements either, nothing at all to suggest his shoulder was bothering him in the least.

"I'm fine," he assured, his lips curving into a slight smile. His expression turned grim, however, when he shifted his attention to the sword Gustav had lent him.

"I take it," Gustav said as he approached them once again, "that the blade isn't to your liking, Sir Seth."

"It's poorly balanced," Seth announced. "I'd not carry it into battle." He grimaced as he returned the blade Gustav.

If anything, the councilman looked pleased. "It's as I thought. I apologise for imposing on you, Sir Seth, but I wanted to hear an expert opinion on the sword. I'm afraid I'm not knowledgeable enough to judge for myself, nor are my comrades. Most of us only learn to use a duelling blade," he said patting the scabbard of the light rapier at his side.

"May I ask where you obtained the sword?" asked Seth.

"It's of Guernic's make." Gustav's lip curled as he spoke the name.

Eirika frowned. "You mean Councilman Guernic? Pablo's son?"

"Indeed." Though she could hardly hold Guernic responsible for the crimes of his father, it was difficult to hear his name and not recall the atrocities committed by Pablo during the war.

Pablo had assassinated several members of the council in his attempt to gain control over Carcino during the War of the Stones. His forces had attacked Princes Innes in order to gain Grado's favour and had waged war with both Renais and Frelia. If Councilman Klimt had not managed to elude Pablo's assassins, the entire country would have been dragged into the war. Even so, Carcino had suffered due to Pablo's ambition and greed. Economically, these past years had been difficult for them and there had been another cost as well. Mercenaries had not made up the entirety of Pablo's forces; some had been only regular citizens turned soldier in the hope of feeding their families. Eirika was fully aware that she and her forces had shed the blood of many fathers and brothers during their march through Carcino.

They had learned that after Pablo's death at Hamill Canyon, his wealth and estates had been passed on to his only son Guernic who had, not long after the end of war, managed to find a place on the Council of Elders. Guernic had been away at his estates the entirety of their visit so she and Seth had not had the opportunity to meet him.

"You said the blade is one of Guernic's," Eirika began. "How do you mean? After all, he's not a sword smith."

Gustav nodded. "Let me explain. The estates Guernic inherited from his father are located in southern Carcino. Parts of his territories are very remote, but they're also rich in minerals; there are several mines on his land. Because of this, a portion of his father's fortune came from the manufacture of weapons. They employ..." Gustav shook his head and shrugged. "I hesitate to use the word 'craftsmen' when, from I've seen the men in his facility are little more than trained labourers. They're able to craft a large number of weapons in a short time, though, as you can see, the quality of the blade suffers as a result. But it's one of the reasons Pablo was able to raise an army with such ease when he chose to side with Grado."

"And his son," Eirika said slowly, "inherited all this?"

Gustav nodded. "Yes and in fact he expanded the smithy."

Seth cocked an eyebrow "Expanded? After the war's end?" He knit his brows and Eirika was relieved to know that she was not the only one made uneasy by the information Gustav had revealed. After all, though she and Seth were ostensibly here in an ambassadorial role in order to further the renewed friendship between their nation and Carcino, it was the news of Klimt's ailing health and the disappearance of one of Innes's informants that had truly prompted their visit.

"Yes," Gustav said, stroking his beard. "The council was nervous about that as well, but Guernic's made a point of showing that he has no intention of following in the footsteps of his father. He's been staunchly neutral in the debates and has acted as intermediary between the two factions of the Council more than once."

"So he's... trusted then?" asked Eirika, keeping her tone carefully neutral. Gustav was very much his father's son and had been an ally since his election to the Council a year after the end of the war. Even so, Eirika did not want to step on any toes by revealing her deep mistrust of anyone associated with Pablo.

"By many, yes," Gustav replied.

"And you?" asked Seth.

"I'd sooner have nothing to do with the man," Gustav replied. "The rest of us made our fortunes by honest means. His family produces shoddy wares and arms bandits and mercenaries. And if he's at all his father's son..." It did not escape Eirika notice that Gustav's hand had come to rest on his sword hilt and was gripping it until his knuckles were white.

"How fares you father?" asked Eirika gently. It was strange to think that here was a man near twice her age who still had a father while she had lost hers three years ago. She pushed away thoughts of that morning's dream and instead focussed her attention on Gustav who heaved a sigh, his hand finally releasing its hold on his hilt.

"Poorly, I'm afraid. The healers say there's nothing they can do now. He grows weaker every day."

Eirika bowed her head. "I'm sorry."

"I'd expected him to live to be a hundred," Gustav said, a wry smile on his lips, though it did not touch his eyes. "Well..." He straightened and, with a deep breath, squared his shoulders. "There's business to attend to. Do you still insist on touring the outer part of the city, you highness?"

"I would like to, yes," Eirika replied.

"In that case it would be best to go in the morning before the streets become more crowded. You should bring your escort along as well. The streets are quite safe, I assure you," he added to forestall the question Seth had opened his mouth to ask. "But there are a great number panhandlers and more than a few snatch purses and I think we'd be better off not tempting them by appearing to be an easy mark."

"Agreed," Eirika said.

"I assume you'll both want to freshen up before then. I can meet you at the main gate in an hour if that would suit you."

Eirika glanced at Seth who nodded. "That would be fine. Thank you, Councilman Gustav."

"Until then, Lady Eirika, Sir Seth," he said and, with a deep bow, he departed.

They began walking away from the green and it was not until they were away from the prying eyes of the spectators that Eirika spoke. "Why," she began slowly, "would anyone want to forge more weapons after the end of a war?"

"He seems not to have much faith in the preset peace," Seth noted.

"Perhaps he's privy to some information we're not. You've still had no luck contacting Innes's informant?"

"None. There's still time, yet..." His brow was furrowed, his lips thinned into a line.

"We'll see what we learn today. Gustav may be proud of his capital but he won't spare us the less favourable corners now that we've insisted."

"Eirika..." From the earnestness of his tone she was certain she knew what was coming next. "You needn't come. I can report to you in full what I see."

She shook her head. "We'll have an escort. And with my loyal knight there to protect me, what more could I ask for?" she added with a sly smile, but Seth's air remained sober as he spoke.

"I am in earnest, my lady."

"And I as well." She knew that at moments like this they walked a narrow line. As a knight it was his duty to protect her; as her husband it was his desire to do so. Yet a knight had no authority over a princess: he could offer council but was bound to obey her commands. But what of a husband? Was his opinion not worth as much as hers in their marriage? Where once he might have simply bowed and said 'as you wish', he now pressed beyond the limits of what a knight could say to a princess and instead spoke as a husband to his wife.

Seth placed both hands on her shoulders and looked her directly in the eyes as he spoke. "I do not like what we've seen thus far. The Council of Elders is more divided than we were given to understand in Gustav's correspondence, and the disappearance of Innes's contact and the unnatural decline of Klimt's health are troubling to say the least." He cupped her face and let his thumb trace her cheek. "I'm worried for you safety, Eirika. You know that even I cannot always protect you."

"I know," she whispered. How could she be unaware of it after their would-be assassin, Urlsula, had thrown the fact in their faces? Even so, she was not about to live her life in a gilded cage just for the sake of her own safety. What use was she to her country if she never set foot outside the confines of the castle walls? "I know," she said once again, "but I want to see the things Ursula claimed she'd lived. I need to see these things for myself, Seth. If there's anything we can do to help..." The day she'd tried to kill Seth openly, Ursula had told them of her youth as a snatch-purse on the streets of Port Kiris in Carcino. Though Eirika could not forgive Ursula for all she'd done, she was filled with sorrow to know that she had suffered so, and that many more did as well. There was poverty in Renais of course after the devastation of the war, but poverty in the large cities such as Port Kiris and Kartan took on a distinctly different character than that in the countryside.

Eirika looked up as she felt Seth's hand squeezing her shoulder. The smile on his face eased her heart. "We should get ready," he said simply.

She nodded. "Thank you, Seth." And with that they returned to their rooms in order to prepare for their sojourn into the outer streets of Kartan.