I was awake before the sun, the next morning. The day the tournament would begin.

I'd told my maid I was too ill from yesterday's run through the rain to be seen today until the opening celebrations that evening. She'd left me with a pot of tea and hot water bottle in my bed to forestall a cold. Having a red nose with my complexion was more than a little unfortunate, especially when being presented as the prize goat at tonight's feast.

I'd waited only as long as it took her to shut the door and hear her echoing footsteps down the hall before I'd bolted out of bed and headed for the forest.

The morning dew was still heavy in the field between the castle and the Shadow Forest as I nearly skipped through the tall grass and the wetness clung to my skirt and legs. But somehow I felt freer already.

My bravery wavered just a little as I stepped across the border once more. Usually, this was a place of solitude, of respite. Never before had I met another creature here, and now I was about to face a troop of Orcs that I'd bound to me by a blood vow.

It was a simple one, meant to guarantee a man's loyalty from his servants, not so much in the mind control kind of way, but more in the way, you could drink from your cup without wondering if it had been poisoned. If the knight were killed by nefarious means by one of his own - all of them would die. But should the knight die in competition or eat a bad clam... well the vow still held and the Orcs would be free from any guilt in his death, proven by this vow. I didn't know much about Drayce, but I knew it held up iron clad in our court system...some even did it as a sort of protection for their servants in the case of their mysterious death.

But as I crossed through the trees, I could sense our connection already. Talon had hurriedly committed the vow last night in the light of the small campfire, and not a single one of the others had been pleased about it, as proven by their low growls and refusal to speak to me afterward. It was a bit discouraging... I guess it had meant something to me, some kind of hope for belonging when I'd met them. The only problem was, I was a half-breed to them as well. I didn't truly belong to either race and just like my human family never missed an opportunity to remind me of that deep flaw, it seemed these Orcs wouldn't be letting me forget it either.

"You make too much noise."

Talon's voice jolted me from my self-pitying and I jumped as I looked up to find him standing less than a foot from my face, frowning again. That was another thing that seemed out of my grasp now as well... he'd been friendly enough the day before but after my wheeling and dealing over his master's life the night before, it had been clear I'd lost the page's good opinion.

"G-good morning," I answered stupidly with a quick curtsy and an attempt at a bright smile. A movement over his shoulder drew my eye to where the others were busy packing up camp - today was the day the last of the knights would arrive for the tournament. The day I would arrive.

"Your skin - it changes color?" Talon asked, and before I even realized his intentions, a warmth brushed over one of my cheeks, still cold from my morning venturing.

"Ack!" I heard myself yelp in alarm as I jumped away from his touch. A shiver of terror shot down my spine, a warning. But I hurried to ignore it.

"Wasn't going to hurt you," was all Talon said, though I could tell I'd offended him. He pulled his hand back to cross against his leather jerkin, but he continued to study me... waiting for my answer.

"I - I - uh - I usually wear a powder," I answered in a shaky voice, feeling like a fool, "It makes me look less..."

"Orc," Talon finished for me, and now his sharp black eyebrows were pulled into a disapproving frown over those large yellow eyes. I nodded silently, wondering just how that must sound to him. But I'd learned years ago to hide anything I could about my heritage for my own protection at Court.

"You're a really, then." This came from a new voice and I looked over Talon's left shoulder to find another Orc page smiling at me in the morning light. I blinked, surprised to find any kind of friendliness here.

"My grandmother's a Tealy too," he said as if it were a polite conversation starter. I only nodded, not sure what the proper response was when someone commented on your skin as if it weren't an ugly defect.

"This is Leif," Talon said, his dark frown never moving as he made the introduction with a jerk of his chin in the newcomer's direction.

"Don't mind him," Lief grinned wider as he came to stand at Talon's side, "It's an honor to meet you, Your Highness," and with that, he gave a courtly bow that had my eyebrows flying into my hairline.

"You care too much for human customs, Lief," Talon groaned with a roll of his eyes, and I could see they'd been friends for many years.

"And you not enough," Lief said pointedly casting his gaze from me back to Talon once more. I wondered if all of them had noticed me jumping away from Talon's harmless touch. Wonderful. We hadn't even crossed the border and I'd already insulted all of them.

"Come, we have to get you ready," Talon instructed with another nod, and then Lief was pressing a bundle of fabric into my hands.

"You can change over there -" Talon pointed towards a clump of trees only a few feet away, "Just don't wander... it's not safe in here, alright?"

"I - I - can't -" I began to blubber... how was I going explain to him that I wasn't exactly comfortable changing clothes in the open woods with a crew of male Orcs. Given his behavior so far he'd probably just call me a sensitive half-breed with a love for human customs like Leif.

"We will of course keep guard from a respectable distance," Leif said in a voice as pleasant as Talon's was gruff. He was smiling reassuringly, but looking at Talon pointedly again. Talon seemed to only just then consider what Leif meant. He silently considered me with a glance at me from my soggy silk slippers to the shorn blonde hair that made me blush. I thought I saw his eyes shift ever so slightly, but in the next instant, he was grunting, shrugging, and walking away from me again.

"He means well..." Leif said with another of those friendly smiles. He was nearly as tall as Talon, dressed in a similar leather jerkin, a large ax hammer strapped over his back where Talon carried a broad sword instead. He had a slightly lighter shade of forest green skin than Talon and I absently wondered if this mean they were related. His night-black hair was cut short instead of shaven like Oren and Talon and stuck out in every direction as if he'd only run his hands through it a moment ago. His eyes were the same wide yellow as the rest of the Orcs, but he smiled much easier than I suspected Talon ever could.

I hurried behind the trees as instructed, I didn't want to make Talon any grumpier with me today. Leif kept up a steady stream of one-sided conversation about the weather and the clothing he'd handed me only a few minutes earlier. I think it was so that I could know he was keeping guard, but also gauge just how far away he stood the entire time. I liked him already.

When I emerged, I was already feeling like a different person.

"Sir Oren," Leif greeted me with a fist pounded against his chest and a boyish grin.

"I feel ridiculous," I whined, glancing down at the leather leggings, armored boots and large silken tunic with the crest of what I assumed was Oren's family embroidered across the chest.

"We tried to make it as similar to the human's as possible," Talon objected as he came to join Leif and me.

Great. I'd offended him again.

"It's just not a gown," I explained, trying for a little humor. He only stared at me and grunted once, those thick arms still crossed over his chest.

"Alright - we'll have to train you as we go with most of the combat skills. But this will have to do for the registration ceremony this morning."

"She walks like a girl, though!" This came from a much younger voice, and the Orc youth I'd briefly spotted the night before popped up slightly hidden behind Talon's elbow as if I were some wild animal he wasn't quite sure of.

"Hello," I offered my best princess smile. The boy had a mop of unruly black curls, a wealth of freckles all over his face, and round yellow eyes that somehow looked more adorable in his little face than they ever had in Talon's.

"Naatan! It's not polite to speak like that!"

I jumped in surprise at the deep voice, though it was said good-naturedly enough. The last member of the party joined us, and I knew immediately he was older than the rest.

"Forgive my son, Your Highness, he didn't mean any disrespect by it. I'm Alder Ungrove, and this lack a daisy is Naatan."

"Pleased to meet you," I gave a curtsy, gaining another long-suffering grunt from Talon. But I recognized the older page's voice as the one who'd tempered the grouchy page the night before, clearly he was already on my side more than the others.

"He's right though," Talon said matter of factly, "You'll need to look like a knight as we go in... I'm guessing you're tall enough for a human male, but anyone who knows much about Orcs will wonder."

"Wonder?" I echoed, blinking stupidly as I tried to imagine just how I should be walking in on my own tournament.

"You're too small," Talon answered curtly, one hand waving in an up and down motion towards me, though I noticed this time he was careful not to touch me.

"You look like a girl," Naatan chortled, still hiding behind Talon's arm, and Lief and Alder smiled too.

"Tis'n't meant as an insult, deerling," Alder explained, and I felt my frown relax ever so slightly, "Now, let's have you walk, from this tree to that. Long, sure strides - lead with your feet, not with your - er - hips," he finished awkwardly and I giggled as the older man blushed.

"Alright," I answered, lifting both hands in a shrug as I turned and made the trek back and forth as requested.

"Oh Goddess," Talon muttered when I came to a stop just in front of him.

"What?" I asked, starting to get used to his resting emotion of displeasure.

"You can't walk like that or we'll all be dead before the day is over."

___

"Remember, lead with your feet, Princess," Alder whispered hushedly under his breath as we made it ever closer to the competitor's encampment. I took a deep breath and tried to focus on my feet, and how they should be looking at the moment.

"Your hips - your hips for Goddess sake Wren! Quit - moving- them," Talon growled from just behind me and I blushed at the fact he was watching that particular area of me.

"Princess Wrenifred," Leif corrected him from my side. Talon's only response was a grumble too low to understand.

"How many other competitors are here already?" Alder asked as if it were a pleasant conversation piece.

"Nine," I answered, practicing dropping my voice into my stomach and widening my throat muscles as I spoke.

"That was better at least," Talon snapped and I couldn't help the small smile that came to my lips at his begrudging approval.

"That was nearly a compliment, Tal," Leif mocked one black eyebrow cocked.

"Don't smile, Wren."

"How'd you know I was -"

"You'll crack the war paint," he insisted as if I hadn't spoken. I huffed another deep sigh. This Orc couldn't wait for me to be killed in this tournament.

"When I do die - likely in the first few trials - you can all go home with a clear conscience that you did your best," I shot backward at him, but the words were half-hearted. In the three hours we'd spent together that morning working on my walking, getting Oren into a makeshift stretcher, and making our way over the magical border, I'd grown a little fond of their company.

"Ach! No Orc is going to be bested by these weaklings!" Alder declared stoutly, and I saw his chest puff up ever so slightly at the assortment.

"Not even a girl Orc," Naatan chimed, forever Talon's shadow.

"But I'm only half Orc..." I said, then smacked a hand over my mouth in horror at what I'd just let slip. It was so improper to discuss my heritage... let alone with a bunch of men.

"The paint, Wren," Talon groaned tiredly.

"No such thing, deerling," Alder said in such warm and gentle voice that I turned in surprise to find him looking down at me with pity in his gaze. Pity?

"What do you mean?" I asked quietly, afraid of this hope in my chest. This hope that maybe along the line someone had been wrong, and I really did belong somewhere.

"No such thing as a half - Orc Wren," this came in Talon's sardonic tone, only now I turned to see he'd taken Leif's place and walked beside me, our arms brushing every other step.

"Orcs an Orc - and that's what you are, like it or not," his gaze was challenging, and I thought with a wince of how I'd jumped away from his touch only that morning. He probably thought I considered them monsters. It was only that I'd met too many monsters in my life to let someone touch me.

"Goddess, you do walk like a girl!" Leif chuckled from behind me. Whatever connection had been forged in the gaze I shared with Talon broke at the other page's declaration, and I huffed in annoyance. I'd nearly opened my mouth to defend myself but then -

"Eyes to yourself, Leifson Deroot!" Talon barked it, low and threatening, followed up with a horrible glare. Worse than any he'd ever leveled my way. I stiffened, scrambling with how to avoid him ever aiming that gaze at me.

"Aye," I heard Leif say, along with the sound of his fist pounding once against his chest, over his heart in salute. But even that one syllable had belied the grin he was probably wearing. I blushed harder and faced forward as we came into the very edge of camp. Most of the competitors and their entourages were already lining up for the vow ceremony - this one, much like the blood vow I'd made last night was a simple agreement of mutual destruction. But my father's Wizard Elin had added some bit about assassination attempts on my father - a mild precaution considering just how many near-enemies were currently camped on our lawn.

I took a deep breath as we joined the crowded arena, my pages falling out of step with me and into the back with the other squires and servants. The arena was an octagonal, flat space the span of three of my father's great halls, and filled with sand. On each of seven sides were walls made of logs interlocked, and then behind those stacked bleachers that were covered by canvas canopies. The first and eighth sides were the entrances where opponents would face off when it came time. But for now, we'd all turned towards the broadest of the walls, where the Royal booth was set up, two thrones stationed for the purpose of my parents' presence, though as yet, they stood empty. The stands were flooded with people, commoners in some sections, the wealthy in others, and finally closer towards the throne were the courtiers in their velvets and silks. The edges of the arena were adorned with the pennants of each visiting knight, each man who'd come to war for my hand. I watched with fear in my belly as Leif jogged to the last remaining space and planted Oren's family crest into the sand. People were beginning to murmur over the arrival of the Orcs. Louder and louder, the pointing and whispering grew. I glanced carefully over my shoulder but Oren's men stood stone still, even Naatan looking straight ahead as if they were honored guests instead of a last-minute invitation to keep political tensions neutral. I felt momentary jealousy at their confidence, and then the realization that I wasn't Princess Wrenifred, I was Sir Oren for the moment. And I could be as confident and stone-faced as my men.

I took a mental inventory of the other contestants as we waited, trying to remember what I could of each one.

Thio of the lower isles was the fourth son of a powerful Baron who ruled the islands much like a warlord. My father both resented and befriended Thio's family because of this. In a pinch against the Orcs, the gangs of the isles would be invaluable.

Then there was Kenry and Tames, brothers from the North Easterly mountains pitted against their worst enemies, Morgan and Verlin of the North Westerlies. They'd each been invited to incite the other, and each had accepted their invitation for that very reason.

Next came Yaleb and Natthew, the second and fourth son of the desert sheik that ruled the sand dunes to the east of our kingdom. The brother between them in birth order had already procured a marriage agreement with a local tribe's princess, and the firstborn would never be sent after the hand of a half-bred.

Thad was the son of a widowed Duchess, who was rumored to bathe in the blood of innocent young women to maintain her youthfulness. She held massive wealth, as well as rumored control of the Continent's Black Market. I always envied the woman her power and freedom... and the way my father both adored and feared her.

Of course, there was Oren, a political enemy invited especially from Drayce, no doubt to be assassinated or embarrassed or both in order to show the other kingdoms my own father's strength and ability to keep the Orcs at bay. They were the empire we all feared, and if my father could prove himself the invaluable keeper of the magical boundary... well it wouldn't be easy to dethrone him.

I leaned forward ever so slightly as trumpets sounded, announcing my family's arrival, but I wasn't looking towards the Royal seating. Instead, my eyes found the one contestant that I feared most. Aleksander stood tall and handsome, his golden horsetail glinting in the dim sunlight that now peeked through the clouds. The smirk on his face was so familiar and still so sickening. It was how he always looked when he knew he was about to win. And usually, I was the one losing.

"Competitors!" My father's voice boomed out over the arena, and we all turned to face the King. "You have each been chosen for your honor and skill to compete for my daughter's hand in marriage..."

He went on explaining about the long-honored tradition of friendship and marriage tournaments and good sportsmanship, but I wasn't paying much attention. It was the first time he'd spoken to me in years... once or twice he looked directly at me and I tried not to move, but he didn't seem to notice I wasn't big enough to be an Orc male. But he did notice me. His penetrating violet eyes caught mine as his strong voice spoke of duty and love for country and for the princess who would marry one man standing here.

Only... he didn't really mention me. He said my name - several times - so everyone knew just which one they were getting of the litter. But... he didn't mention a single other thing about who I was, or why any of them should want me for a prize.

My chest ached and it was beginning a cold steady drizzle.

My father didn't know a thing about me, how could he recommend me to my future husband? How could he say if I was cold or sweet? Clever or flighty? He didn't know me at all.

I swallowed hard against the lump growing in my throat as Elin began the binding incantation that would bind us to the competition in an understanding of mutual destruction and half-hearted honesty. I had only met a few male Orcs, and one lone knight but I was fairly certain they didn't begin tournaments by crying in the middle of the arena.

Elin then explained the blood bond, beginning first with Alek and then