A Gift Unto the King

Chess

"Check!" Vin called out, playfully, sword held offensively against Lucas's.

With a sly grin, and one fluid, sweeping motion, Lucas redirected the prince's blade and spun around behind him. The cool edge of his sword delicately rested against the back of Vin's neck.

"Check mate." Lucas corrected, his tone smug and confident.

Vin sighed and dropped his sword, as Lucas removed his from the vampire's neck.

"You've bested me again, it seems." He glanced over his shoulder at the sweat soaked knight behind him.

Lucas tossed his sword aside, and wiped the sweat from his brow. He panted heavily, trying to catch his breath. Vin may have lost, but he was still a formidable opponent.

"I always do." The knight joked, with a crooked grin.

Vin laughed, sitting down on the fluffy, green grass to rest, as Lucas did the same. The midday sun had tucked itself behind a large cloud, providing some much needed relief. Vin drew a deep breath, the air saturated with the sweet scent of freshly bloomed honeysuckles. Lucas sneezed as a gnat flew up his nose.

"Damn bugs!" He exclaimed, frustratedly rubbing his itching nose, which made Vin snicker.

It had been nearly four years since Lucas came to the castle, and in that time, he and the prince had become rather close. They would regularly train together whenever Vin didn't have other royal obligations to attend to, and vice versa. Lucas had done well to sharpen his skills, and was rapidly becoming one of the king's best soldiers. He never stepped a foot out of line, and followed every order with impeccable execution. Not a day went by that the young knight didn't seem happy to be there.

"Sir Lucas?"

"Hm?" He turned his head to face the prince, who was currently admiring a small beetle scurrying through the grass.

"I never asked you... why did you want to become a knight, anyways?"

Lucas eyed the man for a moment, who's gaze never left the scuttling insect, as he thought of an adequate response.

"Isn't that every man's dream?" He replied, noncommittally. Vin turned towards Lucas, clearly unsatisfied by the non-answer he'd received.

"No, it's not."

Lucas shifted his gaze away from the prince, his formerly cheerful expression now fading. He mindlessly tugged at a blade of grass, rolled it in his fingers, then flicked it aside.

"I come from a small village on the outskirts of the kingdom. There's not much money there, but the people are good." He exhaled forcefully through his nose. "My fathers... they're brilliant blacksmiths. Just as their fathers were before them. It'd be hard to find better blacksmiths anywhere, save for Elvenwood." He cracked a small smile, which lingered only briefly before, once again, disappearing. "But... people don't look too kindly on cursed blood."

Vin's eyes fell. He had the luxury of royal lineage, so he was well enough removed from the atrocities that befell commoners bearing curses. He knew life was harder for cursed people, but it was something he could never truly understand. His family had attempted to make their kingdom a safe haven for those bearing cursed bloodlines, but that didn't necessarily erase the hatred for them.

"Being a werewolf... people already don't trust us. Think we're just some savage, animalistic beasts, with no self control." He sighed. "Maybe they're right. I mean, look at me." Lucas shrugged, gesturing to himself. "I'm covered in scars, and I've left a fair few myself."