SWORN TO THE ALPHA KING

[6.1] THE KINGS HAND

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THE KING'S HAND:

Second in command of the Kingdom, after the King.

Archives of History

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[GRAYDON COLLINS]

MY BREATHING was low, hollow, and shallow-paced whilst my vision crossed through the holes of my mask, but I was able to see my opponent. Standing with impeccable form as always, his deadly eyes set calmly on me.

I grinned through my mask.

"En garde!" I rasped, lunging forward to which he moved swiftly with each joust, the tingling of two metal parts ringing through the air as we glided down the Aluminium piste.

I swung my arm to which he parried my saber with ease, light on his feet as I resumed my position.

"Elegantly done, Master Graydon, the ladies of the Fang court would be proud," he mocked lowly.

"Gorgeous form Eldon, their mothers would consider you a gem," I scoffed back, lunging forward yet again, this time perfectly swinging all around.

In quick strides, a hand placed calmly behind my back, I treaded in rhythm to his, looking for that one opening I had noticed he had left out on the first try.

I finally scored, knocking his weapon out of his hand, and he tripped falling to the floor, the tip of my saber landing squarely in the center of his chest.

His eyes trailed down to it, then back up to me in surprise, chuckling lowly.

"You saw the opening," he grinned, taking off his mask, revealing his brown hair littered in grey strands tied up in a bun, with bushy eyebrows and a heavy beard.

I nodded, giving him a hand up as he tucked his mask beneath his arm, stepping back with a low bow, before looking back up at me, his eyes shining with pride.

"You will do well in Fang Court, Master Graydon."

I grinned at this, taking off my mask.

"Come on now, young Lord. It is important to rehydrate after every workout," Eldon reminded walking to the end of the room.

I nodded, running a hand through my thick locks of hair that tumbled in a curly mess, wiping my sweaty brow as we walked over to the guard in blue, standing still in a corner, with refreshments on a tray in his arms.

Eldon placed his mask and saber down, and I followed watching as he took the bottle, eyes trailing over the label.

"Blood Red wine. Type O," he commented, raising an eyebrow, "the finest."

He glanced over at me with a slight chuckle, before pouring down the thick red liquid into the wine glasses handing one over to me.

I took a sip, savoring the feel of it at the tip of my fangs. My immortal satisfied.

"Has there been any word from the High Lord and Duke about his endorsement?" Eldon asked as we settled down on the bench.

My eyes shifted down to the swishing of the liquid in my glass, gulping down the rest of it.

"I am yet to inquire," I replied.  "Father says the High Lord is a hard man to please," I grunted.

Eldon chuckled at this, "Of course, just as hard of a man as the King himself," he grunted looking back at me, "but they love each other dearly, and an endorsement from King's Brother will surely set you as the forerunner to becoming the new Kings Hand when the heir succeeds his father."