My armour is not one of steel.

Chapter Two

"Papa? Why did you wish to send for me?" nervously, I wrang my hands. If sent for by a King, even if he is your father, you can't help being uncomfortable.

"Please take a seat dear.... now... Taliana. We must talk..."

That simple phrase dropped a stone into the pit of my stomach. All the things I had ever done wrong, ever lied about, came swirling back to me in a tidal wave of horror and nervousness.

As I sat I clasped my hands in my lap, as if holding on to something tightly to stop it exploding out of me... even though I had nothing to hide. I raised my head to look at my Father's drawn and calm expression.

"What is it Papa?" With hundreds of thoughts and possibilities racing around my mind I took a deep breath in an attempt to calm myself.

He leans forward, "as you know, are dear little Land is not as rich as others but we are happy and well known and content. But it is my duty as King to look after my people and money does help with such affairs. How do I do so?"

A text book question. An assessment. The little education I had was all I could use to prove myself.

"Investment. Trade. Allies. Ideas. War. Expansion. Empires..." I rattle off as fast as I can.

"You've missed one, dear."

That's when the stone drops into the deep pit of my stomach. I know what this is about and it doesn't scare me.

It freezes my every nerve. Every ounce of my very being. The world seem to slow down as he awaits my reply.

"....marriage."