12 | Party Favors
"Far" obviously meant different things to different people.... Or, um, animals.
Windsor's even temper only lasted so long, and during private rides he slung Blue across the training field with a sadistic glee.
"You dirty inbred mule!" The squire screamed, head barely reaching the horse's muscled ankle. "You brute!"
Coughing up dirt, Blue staggered to her feet and shoved Windsor's flank without much effect. This only encouraged the Khmaw to nip at her shoulder, evil eyes blinking rapidly at the promise of a carrot and a good brushing down.
"As much as I don't like it, we have a job to do, and I have a family to feed. I know you don't fully understand normal emotions like compassion and humility but just this once I'm going to need you to shape the fuck up."
The impending Three Kingdom Exhibition might've added to Blue's near constant crabbiness but it's not like she would've ever admitted that.
Analyzing the fact she even cared enough to enter her name in the matches, representing Anachakar's Finest under the flag of King and Country, made her so physically ill she would awaken at the dead of night and ask herself what the shit she was even thinking.
Even worse was the Prince's face once Pilar told him Blue accepted the invitation. You would've thought she single handedly slayed the Great Beast of the Grey Sea and recovered the severed head in his honor.
Prince Bo, overcome with emotion, placed a cautiously warm hand on Blue's (tensed) shoulder and mouthed a delighted thank you only she could see.
'This isn't for you, Your Majesty.' Blue huffed. She tugged Windsor back to the stables with a grimace. 'This is for the gold.'
But to think... Bo's amber eyes shining with approval and pride at her expertise, confirmation he made the right choice when he contracted her to be His Knight.
No! No, no, no! Ew, no!
Either way, Blue's path to knighthood shortened exponentially. While the other squires had all the time in the world to master the rest of their core skills, Blue, Torrance, and Wu only had until November to complete any gaps in training.
This was especially worrisome for Blue, who hadn't accomplished a single freehand climb without landing flat on her back with a mouthful of rocks (how was that even possible?).
Oh, yeah, and Blue was absolutely mediocre during her swimming test.
Waist deep in the palace lake, Pilar sneered at Blue's weak doggy paddle. The squire thrashed against the seaweed and surface moss, scaring every living creature within a mile radius. Meanwhile the other squires darted from one end of the shore to the next like water spiders.
Reptilian fish people. All of them!
Blue petulantly blamed her poor form on a cramp and spent the rest of the hour floating on her back wondering the last time she saw a clean body of water not devoted solely to growing rice.
"I'm doomed." That night Blue scrubbed her stinky secondhand armor until her wrists ached. "Absolutely doomed."
The dents riddling her chest plate formed a smiley face. The squire glared at the happiness born from systematic abuse.
"What're you smilin' at, punk?"
Realizing she was arguing with an inanimate object yet again, Blue resigned herself to fitful sleep in the barracks.
The stroll back was calm, and a midnight guard, possibly one who led her to her execution a few short months ago, nodded in respect.
Whilst preparing her cot Blue couldn't shake the eerie sensation she was being watched, but when she turned she found no prying eyes from any occupied bunk.
Blue wasn't a fool.
She grew up in a dysfunctional family of eight.
Her mother was a drug addict.
Her first imaginary friend was an arsonist.
The list goes on.
A wary sniff revealed her rough hewn pillow had been sprinkled with chilli powder. Enough to permanently ruin her vision depending on how she laid.
They didn't think I'd notice?
Blue's quiet heart seized.
They must know Pilar asked me to compete over one of their own.
She wasn't butt buddies with any of the other squires, but she never thought they'd resort to petty tactics. Weren't they supposed to be the most honorable gentlemen in the land? Weren't they the pillars of morality and light separating Anachakar from total anarchy?
Blue didn't know why she was so surprised.
They were nobles, after all.
Blue shoved her pillow to the ground and checked under her mattress for nails. She found two and tucked them into her second tunic pocket.
Alright, you fuckers.
Tucked in bed, the eldest Sanlanh daughter stared up at the ceiling. Her blank expression hid the rage seething under her starless skin.
Game on.
The smell of Pilar's morning coffee burned Blue's nose, and she wasn't even sure if she slept at all that night.
.:.:.:.
The next evening found the squires squabbling around the armory like country chickens.
"Amazing!" Torrance cried.
"Who commissioned this magnificent set?" Another gasped.
"I've never seen anything like it!" Yana weeped.
"What the fuck's going on?" Blue groused.
She strolled up to the gaggle and elbowed the young men to the side.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Situated in a corner perfect for catching the dying light stood a full suit of armor so brilliant Blue nearly shed a tear.
The design, streamlined and modern, was clearly made with loving care absent in the mass produced sets meant for common soldiers. The joints were articulated so neatly concerns of grit rot or hindered mobility were nill. The metal, a rare chromium certainly not mined locally, was imbued with a glittering dark blue hue reminiscent of the seasonal monsoon clouds the villagers loathed and respected all at once.
And the kicker?
The cross section of a hornet was emblazoned on both sides of the helmet and over the left half of the breastplate. Platinum accented the tender wavy grooves, hinting that whosoever wore this fierce armor was favored beyond measure.
It was a statement piece.
It was worth a fortune.
It was glorious.
"Why's it here of all places? Who does it belong to?" Erus reached out only to snatch his arm back, afraid of sullying the pristine gleam.
"In all my years... Look at that detailing."
"Prettier than any maiden I've met," Forrest's comment was met with bitter laughter because no one could deny the truth. "Maybe Pilar's storing it for now? A gift from another kingdom perhaps?"
Blue's stomach ate itself. Not a day went by when she didn't question her sanity signing that stupid contract.
It's a gift alright...
The sheer attention to detail was all well and good, but the most concerning feature about the armor was it's size.
Every squire, even the shortest in stature, was taller than the average citizen. Broad shoulders, sturdy thighs, and well defined pectorals were a must for any prospective knight -- for practical as well as aesthetic reasons.
This set (which Guille immediately dubbed the Indigo Hornet as such a masterpiece deserved a name of its own) was crafted with a particular frame in mind.
A frame much too small to fit any of Pilar's squires...
Except for...
Well...
You know.
"God damnit." Blue hissed. "God damn it all."
A note was tucked in the gilded faceplate.
Willow took charge and gingerly slipped it out, reading the paper aloud.
"A fair knight deserves armor just as fair.
And what is a King, what is Day even, without His Knight?
Blue seemed an appropriate shade.
I pray the suit is suitable.
Haha.
B"
Every incredulous eye simultaneously turned to Blue, who'd been edging away from the stockade before Willow even finished.
"This is your armor? The Indigo Hornet belongs to you?"
The young woman laughed with a humor she didn't feel and shrugged with a discomfort she couldn't fake.
"I mean, it's not mine, per say. I didn't ask for it. The Prince takes liberties without asking my opinion. He could send me his crown but that doesn't exactly make it mine."
"She doesn't even appreciate what she's been given! By the future King himself!" Yana stalked forward, an accusing finger on Blue's chest. "You will accept this suit, peasant. It was made for you. No one else can wear it. To not claim it is an unspeakable dishonor."
"I didn't ask him to do this!"
"You're His Knight. You don't have to ask. The Prince provides and you protect. Best horse, best suit, best sword. You represent our garrison near and abroad, and it is a privilege to do so. It's your payment for laying down your life in service of the kingdom, which is, in case you forgot, the only reason why you were spared!"
Guille wistfully glanced at the Indigo Hornet, sleek and polished and waiting for a warm body. "How could anyone not want that work of art?"
Blue waffled for an answer, not sure how to put her distaste for royalty into words. Especially considering at least one of these squires was intent on sabotaging her before she even really got her start.
"It's not that I don't want it. Believe me, I'm tired of smelling rotten goat cheese and unwashed scrotum fourteen hours a day. But I have to set boundaries."
Willow's thick mustache crinkled like a third eyebrow. He handed Blue the Prince's note with a soft voice.
"For whatever reason, you signed on to be the Prince's personal guard. There are certain responsibilities attached to that. Any of us would be overjoyed to take your place. If you're not intent on taking full advantage of your position, of your good fortune, then why are you even here, Sanlanh?"
The note crinkled in Blue's hand and her nostrils flared.
The million dollar question, huh?
Somehow I'm the one to blame for all of this.
Figures.
Mystery solved, the squires filed out of the armory for chow, either grumbling at Blue's reaction or sobbing over a fabulous gift not meant for them.
"Wait until Pilar hears about this."
"Are you kidding? You know Sanlanh's her favorite. Might as well be talking to a brick wall..."
"This isn't right."
Finally alone, Blue mulled over her new equipment. Her appetite had all but disappeared.
She traced the raised hornet stamped on the chest, an elegant crest no different than the patch embroidered on the Prince's tunics.
It wasn't lost on her that if she ever swallowed enough pride to actually wear the Indigo Hornet, the Prince's personal symbol would rest right over the best part of her heart.
...Whether the unique design was intentional or pure coincidence mattered not.