The fields were wide and quiet as the sun dipped low. Damian lifted his granddaughter from the horse and set her on the grass.
“Good seat today,” he said.
Princess Dayla grinned, brushing dirt from her small tunic. “I held the reins tight, Grandfather. Just like you showed me.”
“You did well,” Damian replied, patting the horse’s neck. “Your father will be proud when he sees you ride.”
Dayla straightened, puffing her chest. “And fight,” she added. She pulled the little sword at her hip, raising it toward the trees.
Damian chuckled. “Fight, yes. But a sword is not for play. It is for the need.”
“I know,” Dayla said, swinging the blade with both hands. “One day I will fight beside Father. Beside you too.”
Damian shook his head with a smile. He took her hand, and together they walked in
