The Way We Fall

Chapter 32 (Roche)

Tigris was uncharacteristically silent as they walked back to the armoury. Roche untied the silk lined cords holding the plates of armour in place, slipping them off Tigris as quickly as she could. The princess' brow was furrowed, her sparkling green eyes dulled with thought.

"Hurry up!" Tigris snapped at Roche as she fumbled with her armor, but the words weren't as sharp as they could be. Roche made an affirmative sound, hastening her efforts to tug off the metal plates. Tigris was still wearing a loose, long sleeve top beneath and trousers with a fitted chest plate when she waved Roche away. Her cheeks were flushed with a mix of emotion that Roche couldn't identify. Roche followed, still clad in her own training armor but she didn't have time to take it off.

Tigris stormed towards the barracks, a tall, unyielding stone building that was teeming with knights clad in their armour and crests. Tigris' ire seemed to evaporate into something more mournful as she approached. She whispered something to the guards at the doors of the barracks, and they quickly tugged open the doors.

If the knights were surprised to see the princess in something other than a gown, they didn't show it. In fact, they seemed more at ease with Tigris than anyone else Roche had seen, save for her siblings. Tigris often waved or slowed to converse with many of the knights they passed, and all of them seemed more than happy to engage as well.

"So you're not always a brat, then." Roche murmured as they waded deeper into the maze-like building. Tigris' amusement faded, tension stiffening her shoulders. She jostled Roche.

"Shut up."

"Of course, princess."

Tigris' mirth dimmed further as she approached a large set of unguarded doors at the heart of the building. As they approached, Roche could hear the thrum of deep voices behind the closed doors. Tigris rolled her shoulders back, like she was preparing for a blow. Roche watched her carefully, noting how her eyes shifted into something more vulnerable for an instant. She pushed the doors open, revealing a room filled with three rows of bunk beds organized with military precision. A assortment of five men lounged about, some of them talking and wrestling with each other while others laid in their beds reading.

The gray floors were clear of any mess, save for the tussling heap of men. Tigris' lips twitched like she was holding back a smile. One by one, the knights realised the princess was in the room and froze with a guilty look.

"Good afternoon," Tigris drawled, and the knights toppled over one another to stand at attention. Tigris smirked, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Of course not, princess." a dark haired man said smoothly. He sported a fresh bruise on his cheek. On his right, a broad shouldered brunette narrowed his obsidian eyes.

"Sir Darryl was getting his ass beat, princess." he argued. Darryl scowled, sweeping his shoulder-length dark hair over his shoulder.

"What did you say this time, Darryl?" Tigris chuckled, leaning against the doorway. Sir Darryl's pale cheeks reddened.

"I told Sir Lloyd that he could lose a fight against a willow tree." he mumbled. Tigris snorted as the brown haired man nodded somberly.

"So I said that he must be worse than a tree, because I can best him!" Sir Lloyd added. Tigris' smirk deepened. She turned to the other squat man who'd been brawling.

"And why were you involved, Harris?"

The blonde man shrugged, flashing a somewhat flirty grin at Tigris. "You know me, my lady. If there's a fight, I'm in it."

Tigris laughed. "I suppose so. Well, I hope you can save your squabbles for later. I need you five to be ready to ride out in the hour."

It was like a switch had been flipped. The other two men who had been lying in their bunks joined their fellow knights at the front of the room. Roche was surprised to recognize one of them.