It was already midway the morning and she was still busy with writing declarations. A writing slate rested next to her, her final draft. She carefully copied the words down, extreme care to not blot the ink. Just as she was moving the quill back to the ink pot, a knock on the door interrupted her. She mentally cursed as she snapped the quill, the third one this morning. She first looked at her sword laying on the desk, ready in a moment's notice, before nodding at her guards to unlock the door. Old habits died hard, even if the war was over now.

As the door opened, she rose to her feet and took off her reading glasses. The man that entered was one of the knights that had been present last night, when Aodhán became nameless. She knew he was about to return to her office, yet his arrival had still cost her a quill. Now he was silently standing at attention, waiting for her to permit him to speak. "Sir Caerbychan. Report." One of her doorguards winced at her briefness. She took note to keep him around, as a measuring tool for her emotions.

"Yes, your Grace! I have delivered your message to the nameless!" The man was raising his volume a bit too much. A raised eyebrow was enough to signal him to quiet down a bit. "Apologies. Your message was delivered. He asked me to tell you he understood. Your Grace, if I may, I should note that a group of our knights appeared to be taking offense to his exercising."

Her eyebrow raised again, causing the man to flush. To her approval he did keep his stance, though. "I see. Alright, some questions then. Just nod or shake your head." He nodded with an extremely serious face. "First, did he wait until you left before continuing his exercise?" A nod. "Did the gathered group include any knights from last night?" He thought for a second, then nodded. "Lastly, are you concerned about the nameless?" Hesitation, then another nod. "Explain."

It only took the man a single count to gather his resolve. "Your Grace. I heard complaints that they believed he should be in a cell. Some were suggesting they spar with him. Their tone suggested abusing the situation to injure him. I do believe the nameless is aware, but he rejected my offer to assign him a guard."

Admirable. He only hesitated for a short bit before telling her, showing loyalty to his peers but more to her. Additionally, he had taken initiative to offer a shield to protect Aodh-, the nameless. She admonished herself. It would take time to stop mentally calling him by name, but she had to try. And for now, distract herself. "Walk me through your reasoning."

"Yes, your Grace! Uhm..." He took a few seconds before explaining, his words now more weighted. "I have not lost any friends, but two of them did get heavily injured and one may never fight again. That is why I can understand their resentment. A surrender doesn't take away their pain. But he has still surrendered and his treatment, his life and neck, are in your hands. I do not feel they have the right to retaliate like this."

"Admirable explanation. There is but one flaw in your thinking. Shielding him here will only make that resentment fester. Best to let them try to seek an outlet, that is why he is seeking this fight, and why I gave him permission for it. Come and watch beside me."

She rose to her feet and grabbed her sword, sheathing it on her side as she walked to the window. It still felt weird for the light to just pour into the room, rather than having to depend on lanterns. Without curtains in front, she could easily oversee the enclosed courtyard, where indeed various groups were standing near the nameless. He appeared to be in conversation, which didn't stop him from sending a quick glance her way. She almost nodded before catching herself. Next to her, Sir Caerbychan stood confused. "Uh, is this really alright, your Grace?"

"Why, were you planning on kissing me?" His eyes shot wide open and he began to stammer, which she interrupted before he could panic too much. "Because if not, you have nothing to fear, not from me, not from him. Now simply stand and observe. Your very presence here makes clear to him that he understood my orders well."

The conversation appeared to have reached its conclusion, with a group of eight grabbing practice swords. Not the nameless, though, who simply stood ready. As they began to surround him, he moved one leg back, keeping his full attention on them and staying close enough to the wall that they could only form half a circle. The other groups appeared to be holding back. She suspected simply because too many people would ruin any excuse of this being a simple spar. Honestly, she felt they all deserved this lesson, if only for ever believing such a lie would fly in the first place.

The first attack came from his left, aimed at his leg. That one he simply avoided with footwork. Another attacked from his right, aiming for his back. He turned and grabbed the sword, pulling the knight towards him, straight into his fist. As blood flew through the air, confirming a shattered nose, he jumped to his left, then ducked under a wild swing before delivering a knee-shattering kick. A scream of pain was audible even through the window, then cut short by a knee to the chin. After that all resemblance of a spar was gone, the nameless diving at his enemies with sheer violence. Within another twenty counts, all eight were already on the ground, some unconscious, others groaning in pain at various broken bones.

She glared as the next group began moving his way. More groups were