A father's choice

"She is mine, Ioannis."

Ioannis looked at the dark-haired man in front of him. Of average height but exuding confidence, he aimed his deep-brown eyes at him. Tempted to cower, Ioannis held, digging his fisted knuckles in his thighs.

"You threw away this right when you so conveniently discarded her... on my doorstep." Ioannis threw back, refusing to let himself intimidated by the perfect contrast of a well-tailored white doublet with sun-tanned skin on a scowling face.

"It worked for us both as for me it was the sole way to keep her from the disgrace of bastardy, and you kept your marriage, your land and your status. I granted her 'praefectio in filio' so she could inherit the lands you received without affecting your own should you have other heirs."

The dark-haired man looked impatient, as if dealing with a matter of low importance and beneath his station. He moved to leave when Ioannis stopped him with his hand on his arm.

"And a world of good it did. It would only have enticed Tamas to harm her for her lands."

"I see you found the perfect solution, rob her of childhood, of friends and raise her against nature. A young lady must sew, dance and entertain. How many men did she already kill, Ioannis? She is my daughter and I will see her smile, dance and laugh. Make sure she is present at the ball, and that she wears the dress I sent her."

Ioannis stilled and hung his head, but not in shame, as the dark-haired man might think. He startled when the latter stopped by the door and added:

"Her maid was instructed to frame her face with the curls of her hair. The ball is purposely a masquerade, and she will wear a mask. I wouldn't endanger my own child, and... I am told she is gifted with a sword; she might yet prove useful."

Ioannis' temper snapped, and before he knew his fist connected with the man's jaw. He narrowed his eyes and hissed at the white-clad man:

"They might call you Pannoniae Murus, the wall of Pannonia, but if Dochia comes to any harm, you will answer to me, Janos."

The dark-haired man opened the door to call in the guards but thought better of it and strode out of the room rubbing his sore jaw.

Ioannis stepped into the ballroom and could merely stare at the woman in the red silk dress. It shimmered with shadows of green and had delicate silver embroidering on the sleeves and hem. Her brown curls were falling on her shoulders, framing her face, and she wore a silver embroidered mask over her eyes. She made her way toward the wide-open terrace doors, and Ioannis cursed silently when recognition dawned on him as he noticed Miklos following her.

By the time he made his way through the crowd, she disappeared into the garden.

Dochia hurried her steps when she heard someone behind her. She rounded several corners in apparently random directions in a try to lose the follower. She was unsuccessful as a strong arm caught her and turned her around. The sour smell of his mouth made her turn her face and push at his chest.

"Easy my dear, I have been longing for this moment, let me see your beautiful face."

His voice was slightly slurred, and he smelled of palinka.

"Leave me alone, let me go." Dochia demanded loudly.

"Do you know who I am? I am Miklos, the next walachian prince. I'll put you in a large house, you will not want for anything, just say yes. I am sure you'd be honored to be the prince's mistress."

Dochia stiffened, and her hand moved of its own volition over his cheek, with a resounding slap. This didn't deter Miklos, and he pulled her toward him trying to force his mouth over hers. When she turned her head again he hissed:

"I know your secret... Stan. A few words well placed, and secrets will spill. Imagine the embarrassment. No more tournaments or raids or playing the knight..."

"The lady asked to be released." a voice startled Miklos and he reluctantly let Dochia go. He looked in disdain at the seemingly low-born man with a mop of red hair and a scraggly beard covering his face. His mouth curved up in a sly smile at the sight of the unusual garb the man wore.

His smile died soon, when he noticed the three men approaching him on the garden path. At the question in Ioannis eyes, Dochia answered, the mask covering the mirth in her eyes.

"Miklos was telling me he is to be the next prince of Walachia; I believe congratulations are in order." She shot him an angry look. "His manners could use some polishing though, for such a high honor."

Tamas froze at the piercing look Janos, the white knight, gave him. He muttered an apology and was baffled when the knight turned without a word, offering Dochia his arm. Ioannis was silent, trying to make sense of the exchange, but shook his head and followed shortly after.

Tamas stayed behind and whispered when he was sure nobody was listening: "You dolt, how many times did I tell you it was to be a secret. It took me years to dispel Hunyadi's doubts and convince him you're worthy. No telling what he will do now. Come, we have much work before us, to make up for your stupidity."

Later, that night, Janos Hunyadi, the voivode of Transylvania, gave his blessing to the young son of the Dragon to seize the walachian throne. He had seen enough of Tamas and the rest of the fawning sycophants vying for his favors.