How to court a storm | 𝘈𝘯 𝘐𝘴𝘦𝘬𝘢𝘪 𝘕𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭

(40)

The royal palace courtyard is a place of splendid beauty, but it offers little solace to the likes of me. Tall, marble columns rise like sentinels on either side, draped in rich, royal blue and gold banners bearing the emblem of the knightly orders.

The air is crisp and filled with the scent of freshly bloomed roses that line the perfectly manicured gardens. But despite the idyllic surroundings, the courtyard feels cold, just like I prefer it.

I stand there, adjusting the thin gloves that bind my hands in warmth. The fabric feels foreign against my skin, being more used to a thicker material. My hip holds the sword I plan to use today, almost scraping the floor were it not for my height.

Dahlia approaches with a rather pensive air. I glance up at her, taking in her appearance beyond her expression. Her hair is down today, flowing like a river down her lustrous form. She's dressed in casual clothing, what she normally wears for her training periods. "Nirvana," she starts, her voice curious. "Are you aware of how the knighthood process works?"

I look at her eyes, my myriad of colours meeting her sky blue ones. I'm not in the best of moods today, and I'm certain she can tell judging by her approach and lack of speaking beyond what she deems to be a necessity.

I let out a sigh, my breath visible in the crisp air. "Isn't it simply a battle of winners?" My voice is as cold as the stone beneath my feet, and my words leave no room for further discussion. In my mind, there's no need for elaborate explanations.

She knows my skill perfectly well.  The only thing I'm doing today is having gone out of my way to come to the imperial palace, having the knighthood held here in privacy.

Dahlia's expression tightens briefly before she hums. "You're right. It is brief. You merely need to win. Or have your opponent declare he sees you as a fit knight."

I turn to face her fully, my posture rigid, and my gaze unyielding. "Then what exactly has you worrying that you seem to worried right now?" I look her up and down.

She bites her lip and seems to muss her hair. Whatever has her mind, worries her more than it will me. "You look like you haven't slept in days."

Her statement would be amusing if there wasn't a pounding in my temples. Even so, I reply. "I don't sleep." My fingers lift to graze the hilt of my sword, thinking about why I look the way I do. I had some shut eye a few days ago, and somehow, it ended up with me drenched in sweat and waking to a nightmare.

I nearly shiver at how i felt when i woke up.

Dahlia's brows furrow. "Why do I get feeling you mean that in the literal sense?"

"Because I do." I assure. "There's nothing for you to worry about. Tell me about my opponent." I ask, trying to change the subject. Whilst I doubt she'll try to pry despite not being in the mood, I don't wish to leave an awkward air hanging between us.

"Your opponent-"

Her words are cut off when I feel the presence of two people nearing.

Just as Dahlia is about to reveal the identity of who will be hosting my knighthood exam, a figure approaches, his steps carefree and echoing against the courtyard's marble floor. He's dressed in a manner that's the antithesis of the solemn occasion. A loose-fitting shirt and bottoms, the very picture of carelessness, adorn his frame. His sword, though, is a stark contrast, hanging at his hip with an air of lethal nonchalance.

My gaze, so accustomed to meeting the eyes of those I tower over, is met with a turn of events. He's of the same height as me. It's a rare occurrence, and it's enough to raise my guard a notch. He's no more than eighteen at best, definitely not younger. The vivid hue of his hair, a striking blood red, adds to the aura of danger that surrounds him. He exudes an arrogance that's impossible to ignore.