Quiver and Crown // KateLena

Double Edge

Kate had forgotten how truly draining palace life could be. The hustle and bustle, the constant greeting of nobles, the never ending bowing. She had only been back in Aram for a week, but missed her Plains cottage desperately. Sure, her castle quarters were nicer, cleaner, more spacious, but it was not home. Not anymore.

One of the only perks of the capital was its combat training facilities. On the Plains, most of Kate's knightly training consisted of long hikes in the foothills of the countryside, archery in the cover of the woods, sparring with Clint for hours on end every day. But here, in the vast resources of the royal family, knights had every kind of weaponry they could ask for. Maces, axes, swords, spears, though Kate preferred arrows, and kept a quiver and a bow strapped to her back every hour of the day she was not asleep.

"Bishop," a voice called from the doorway of Kate's quarters. "I'd be offended that you haven't come by to see me yet, but I know knights are busy people these days."

"Not a knight yet, Princess Natasha," Kate responded to the smirking redhead as she adjusted her silver chest plate, carefully polishing the metal.

"Why do you clean it, when you'll surely sully it so quickly?"

"It's about respect, I suppose."

"For?"

Kate crossed her quarters to the entryway. "Myself. The Guild. People like you, Your Highness."

Natasha laughed easily. "Your Highness? Who in the world are you, Bishop?"

"Here? I'm no one."

Natasha suppressed a frown. When she decided to finally check in on her little sister's best friend, she did not expect someone so... stoic. Almost robotic. It would impress Natasha had it not concerned her. Hands in her suit pockets, the princess spun on her heels to follow the young knight to be down halls of the palace's east wing. "Going to train, I suppose? What'll it be today? Sharp object throwing, or sharp object swinging?"

Kate cracked a small smile, adjusting the sturdy bow strapped to her back. "Sharp object shooting, hopefully."

Natasha opened her mouth to respond when a voice from down the hall rang out, "princess, have you seen my sister?"

"Nope," Natasha replied as a young man with light blonde hair joined the pair's stroll. Kate searched for any identifying features on the slim man- but he had no crests, no armor, no weapons, nothing. Just a simple white button up and brown pants.

"Typical," the man muttered, vanishing as easily as he appeared.

"Who's he?" Kate asked.

"Pietro. My brother in law, of sorts."

"I'm sorry, you're married?"

"Don't sound so surprised, Bishop. And not married yet. I'm still trying to find a way to propose."

"Get down on one knee?"

"How I've missed your sarcasm. Yelena is too wooden these days. You've seen her, right?"

Kate glanced over at Natasha, gauging her sincerity. "Yes, for a moment at the funeral. Seems like she wants nothing to do with me."

"She's stubborn, you know that. She's just missed you is all. Give her time."

Natasha patted Kate's armor clad shoulder as the two reached a courtyard. Natasha took her leave, continuing her stroll through the palace. Kate slung off her bow and entered the training grounds where Clint waited, the older man parrying and lunging his sword into thin air.

"Fighting ghosts?" Kate asked, setting down her bow on a wooden bench and grabbing a sword from a rack. It was lighter than she was used to, though perfectly balanced, the golden hilt dazzling.