Arcadia's Ignoble Knight: The Sorceress' Knights Tournament

Chapter 8

"What Caspian is saying is basically that the people here are jerks to him because he's not a noble," Christo clarified.

"Oh." From the expression she wore, it was clear that Elincia still didn't understand.

"Try not to worry about it," Caspian assured her. "I don't really care if these people don't like me anyway. Your opinion is the only one that I care about."

Elincia squeaked at his words. Her cheeks turned pink, and she turned her head, as if it would keep him from noticing. He frowned.

Why is she so embarrassed? She should already know that she's my only friend.

"Oh, nice job, Caspian! I never knew you were such a player!" Christo gave Caspian a thumbs up.

Caspian deadpanned. "I don't know what you mean by that, but I suggest you shut up."

He, Elincia, and Christo entered the main structure, a massive building of flying buttresses and miniature towers that jutted from the exterior like spokes. The hallway they wandered down was wide, and the depressed arch overhead was supported by hundreds of vertical shafts, which were further braced by horizontal transoms, creating a grid-like appearance. The windows on the left side of the hall allowed natural sunlight to filter in and coruscate off the white marble floor.

Caspian led the way to the headmaster's office. Having been there many times before, he knew the way by heart. Elincia stuck by his side. They only encountered a few other students, but every time they did, the loudly whispered words caused his friend to clench his hand all the tighter. Christo strolled along on his other side, whistling a jaunty tune, seemingly oblivious to everything around him.

When they reached the headmaster's office, it was to see someone guarding the door. Garbed in the outfit of a butler, the man's appearance seemed both young and old, as if his physical age did not match his mental one. Caspian thought it was because of his severe expression. The man's face was etched into a near permanent scowl.

"Is the old man in?" asked Caspian as he, Christo, and Elincia walked up to the door.

Wrinkles appeared along the man's brow as the scowl that he wore deepened. "Sol, what are you doing here?"

"I see that you're conversational skills haven't improved since we last spoke," Caspian quipped. Soren's scowl became even more intense. "Look, I don't really care about whatever problem you have with me. I need to see the old man about something, so just let me through, and we'll get out of your hair."

"Unacceptable," Soren retorted. "Headmaster Strattelo is a busy man. He doesn't have time to deal with whatever nonsense you've gotten yourself mixed up in."

"Are those his words or yours? Because I'm thinking they're not, and you're just being a prick."

Soren's clenched fists shook as if struggling contain his fury, all the while, he glared at Caspian like he was trying to kill him with his eyes.

"Regardless of what you may think, the headmaster is still too busy to speak with you. Leave."

Caspian scratched his chin, considering his options. If he left, then it meant he wouldn't be able to help Elincia. Really, there was no option.

"Yeah... how about no." Soren's eyes narrowed behind his spectacles. "You see, my friend here is in need of some help, which only the old man can give me. If you think acting like a cantankerous old fart is going to make me leave, then clearly, all these years you've known me have been wasted on you. Now, let me see the old man."

"And I told you, Sol, Headmaster Strattelo is—"

"Curious to know why you've brought a girl into this academy."