...Agnes?

Before either the emissary or I could raise our cups, Agnes snatched the silver chalice from the table with a burst of drunken courage. With her cheeks flushed crimson , she tilted her head back and downed the thick, shimmering gold liquor in one impressive, uninterrupted gulp. She slammed the empty chalice back down onto the wooden surface, letting out a soft gasp as the raw heat hit her throat, leaving the entire room in a stunned, breathless silence.

The four dwarves looked at her in absolute shock before the amphitheater-like roar of their laughter erupts, shaking the very walls of the chamber.

“By the forge!” the emissary bellows, wiping a tear of merriment from his eye as he looks at my brave maid with newfound, deep respect. “The prince brings a true shield-maiden to our table! The prize is yours, lassie, name your terms!”

This is where she kept surprising me. I had always thought Agnes to be a shy one, friendly, but timid. Well, the dwarves’ liquor definitely gave her some courage! She looked over the rowdy assembly with a wide grin.

“My prize is a demonstration of true dwarven... endurance,” she commanded, her voice steady and surprisingly dominant. “I want every dwarf in this room to shed their modesty and show exactly what kind of brawn you are packing beneath those belts.”

I let out a breathless chuckle, expecting the emissary to balk, but the dwarves only roared with enthusiastic approval, their hands already moving to unbuckle their heavy leather gear. My amusement vanished in an instant, however, when Agnes turned her flushed face directly toward me, her eyes locking onto mine with an unyielding, authoritative intensity.

“And that includes you, my prince,” she instructed, her tone leaving absolutely no room for royal privilege. “You entered this challenge too. Step forward and join them.”