Affairs Of A Knight

Step 2- Take Position- 13

"A combination of rigid will, thirst for power and a goal to achieve — you can do anything. Like kill a King"

                  — Louis, Knight of the First Order, House of Cromwell.

Step 2— Take Position

Affairs of a Knight Chapter 13

¶∆

He had always suspected it. No, he knew she had plans to kill him. He was convinced.

"If you keep going at that rate, you wouldn't have any Prince left" he wheezed.

She hit harder.

"Hey!" He gasped.

"They would be no mercy newborn—"

 "Aline" he cut in. "My name is Aline" 

Her eyes narrowed at his interruption. "You do not tell me what to call you"

"Of course not,"  he appeased, "You said yourself, I am no longer a newborn.."

She frowned. "We are not on a first-name basis. We are not friends."

Jesus. Why was she hungover?

"God no. I doubt a friend would hit that hard" his words loosened a line or two from her face. "However, I think, since I am no longer the new kid, you should call me by my name. Just like everyone calls you Louis, everyone calls me Aline"

"Hm. Aline" she said, testing the name on her tongue.

Something tightened in him as she called his name.

"You do not suppose you are the only one hoping to climb to the First Order do you?"

He blinked. Well. 

"Tomorrow night, there shall be a combat; a means to identify knights who shall participate in the tournament the day after. And there would exist liberty to challenge a First Order knight without repercussions. That is where you must prove yourself."

"We shall combat with a lance? On our feet?" He asked stupidly.

She looked at him with disgust, he did not flinch. Three months with this knight had made him immune to the dirty looks she threw him often.

"No, Aline" she spat, his name sounding like a curse. Of course, this was Sir Louis; an expert in making everything sound like a taunt. "With bloody swords. The next day during the tournament, you would fight with a lance. On horses"

He shifted on one foot. The other knight watched him, standing rigid, unblinking; he wondered if she felt the bitterness of the wind.

He wondered if she felt.

"So, the night before the tournament, I am to fight anyone of you three?"

She barked a harsh laugh.

"You are to fight Elises. Alwyn would skin you alive before your sword leaves its sheath and I.." She speared it with a look that was darker than night. "I shall simply kill you."

He bristled at her sarcasm. He knew he was no match for her—yet, but perhaps, he could hold his own against Alwyn.

¶∆

He could not.

Thank God he had heeded her words and thrown his gauntlet in front of Sir Elises instead.