Shortz

Knight of the Night

"Jane, you don't have to do this," Martia whispered, tugging at the hem of my dark grey skirt. "I am not worth it. I am just a temp."

I was already two shots in by then. Was I tipsy? Hell yes. Had I vowed not to touch the God damn cocktails at this year's bash? Fuck Ya! Could I have kept my vow? Big yes!

Then, why, you may ask, was I, a lightweight, chugging down one shot after another, bravely like a Knight in shining white shirt and grey knee-length skirt and trying to win against the drinking legend of our office?

Trust me, I didn't have a choice. I wanted to prove a point.

The point I was trying to make was that women deserve respect no matter what their social status! That just because they were not complaining didn't mean that they were comfortable with it. For that was a memo that my disgusting, I mean distinguished superiors and peers had neither chosen to read nor follow.

If they had, they wouldn't have grabbed every opportunity to make fun of Martia and many others like her or passed lewd comments at young ladies just to make themselves feel good about their mundane lives or get the dirt in their minds out of their systems!

Just a few minutes ago, I had caught David approach Martia, a small-town girl who had dared to dream big and was trying to realize them. He had brushed his hand against her ass. And as she had turned and gotten startled, coming face to face with him, he had smirked.

I had tried to stay away and mind my business like I always did. But just then, all the times this jerk had made me uncomfortable with his leering and inappropriate caresses had flooded my mind. And a plan had started taking shape.

"S...Sir, I am sorry." Martia had stuttered and tried to step away from him. Causing her to bump into a waiter, who was standing right behind her.

"Careful, lass!" The ass had exclaimed and grabbed the collar of her peach-colored top and pulled her close. Two things had happened simultaneously, Martia's top had torn, exposing her brassiere, and David's drink had very conveniently tipped, spilling the red colored cocktail into the poor girl's cleavage.

Luckily, I had arrived at the crime scene (yes, a crime scene, for there was a victim and there was a culprit) at that precise moment and pulled her towards me, shielding her tiny petite figure behind my substantially larger one.

"Jane!" David had winked, "Darling, looks like the green tea isn't paying off. You have put on a lot." Sizing me up from head to toe, he had leaned in, "Now go along... "

"I am here to challenge you to a drinking match." I had interjected, pushing him away and handing my coat to Martia.

"Are you kidding me, Jane? Don't you remember what happened at last year's party?" He sneered.

Yes, I clearly remembered making a fool of myself.

"I do, Sir. And yet you seem reluctant to take this opportunity."

"I am not reluctant!" He had snapped, "What's the catch?"

"You get to win. Isn't that enough?"

"Challenge accepted!" Huffing, he had walked over to the bar and motioned the waiter over, "Shots. Now. Here." He had gestured me to follow, and I had, "Bring out the good stuff, my man!" He had demanded, gleefully, as if he had already won the challenge.

And that is how I had ended up in my present state. But, this time, I had played my cards well.

"I will save youuuuuu." I yelled at the top of my lungs, shielding Martia with one hand and gulping the good stuff down with the other.

David's brows knitted, "The hell are you creating a scene for!?" He bite out, but I just continued to yell, "I will protect all of you from wolves like him! I am the Knight you have been waiting for all this time! I will protect... "

My antics didn't go unnoticed. Soon, a small crowd gathered around us. Noticing a few big shots among them, I upped my act.

"Your majesty!" I exclaimed, pointing at the most elegant man in the crowd, a greying man, who had an air of royalty around him, and heard surprised gasps make rounds around the hall.

"Jane, that is enough. Stop it this instant, you stupid woman!"

"How can you tolerate such a grave offense?" I continued, ignoring the ass, and the man stepped forward. He looked at me with amused eyes and commanded, "Tell me, Knight, what is this great offense you speak of?"

I blinked and almost broke character. Almost. I fell to my knees, "Young lasses need protection from the hungry wolves, my King!"

"Sir, please excuse her. She is not in her senses," David interrupted, but His Majesty shrugged him off, "Continue, Knight." He ordered. Staying in character, I spilled all the disgusting things I had witnessed over the years; the chatter ebbed away, replaced by a blanket of silence, till only my voice remained.

Finishing my monologue, I gulped down the fourth shot in one go, and I fell to the floor face first, unceremoniously. I winced and passed out.

The next morning I found myself in the hospital bed with a bouquet of bright yellow roses, an embarrassing bump on my head, and a simple yet elegant card by my side which read:

You did good, My Knight. I will take care of the rest. Next time, you don't have to get drunk to tell me your grievance. My door is always open for my Knights.

Sincerely,

Allen Daniels (CEO)

P. S.: Loved the 'Your Majesty' part. No one has addressed me like that before.

Picking up the card, I ran my fingers over the name and felt the tips of my lips turn up, "Thank you for listening, Your Majesty."

{Word Count : 994}