The Princess Knight

Eleven Men

Just then, a sudden commotion stirred from the courtyard below.

"Open the gates!" a knight at the entrance shouted. His voice echoed through the court yard, Echoed through the quiet air like a bell of alarm. I moved closer to the balcony rail, peering down as several young knights hurried to pull open the massive iron-bound doors. The hinges groaned in protest, heavy and reluctant.

And then__they rode in.

The Paladin Knights.

My breath caught. For a moment, I forgot how to move, how to think. I had only ever read about them in the sacred chronicles, tales so grand they felt almost like myths__the Sanctum Order, the divine hand of the Church. Never, not once, had I imagined I would see them with my own eyes.

Although no one ever really wished for such a sight, Because the appearance of the Sanctum Knights meant only one thing__danger.

The kind of danger not born of man.

They entered the courtyard in a formation so perfect it seemed choreographed by the heavens. Their armor was black, with a red cross glowing faintly on each chest. Even their horses were covered in dark plates that clanked softly as they moved. The moment they entered, the air seemed to tighten, their presence pulled every eye toward them.

The young knights stopped their training right away. Some bowed their heads with respect, while others tried to sneak quick looks, curious and amazed. Even among the monks and nuns nearby, there was quiet murmuring.

I just stood at the balcony, frozen, just staring in awe.

They rode in until they reached the base of the tower, There they stopped.

And looked up.

Straight at me.

My heart skipped hard in my chest. My hands tightened on the railing.

Why are they staring? Can they read thoughts too? What do I do?

As i gazed my instinct screamed to bow, but I forced myself still. I am royalty, I reminded myself. I bow to no one but God.

Then I realized__their eyes were fixed not on me, but on the Bishop beside me. He raised his hand and drew a cross in the air, and in perfect unison, the Paladins lowered their heads. Then they rode through the southern archway__the Hall of Vows, a place I had always thought led nowhere but storage chambers.

As they rode off, I watched closely, and i noticed something was wrong. There were only eleven of them.

The Sanctum Knights always rode in twelves. Always.

My mind started racing. Where's the twelfth?

And then, like a spark, my thoughts flashed back to that night, the night of the attack. The knight who saved me. The one wrapped in shadow and light all at once. I could still hear his calm voice in my head.

I leaned forward and scanned the riders' faces carefully. I had a sharp memory, I'd recognize him if I saw him. But… he wasn't there.

'Who was that man?' I wondered

'Was he one of them? Or something else entirely?'

A cold thought crept in. Could he have been a demon in disguise? But that didn't make sense, if he was, then why was I still alive? Any demon would have killed me on sight.

I wanted to ask Bishop Caelum, but I stopped myself. He never gave straight answers. His words always came wrapped in riddles, enough to leave me more confused than before.

I turned to the Bishop with another question in mind.

"Your Grace," I called, drawing his attention. "Who brought me here?" I asked, my voice steady despite the lingering unease. "You said you knew I had faced a Nharoth… but how could you possibly know what I had faced alone?"

A faint smile touched his lips. "Cenon Amos" he said gently, "He figured your injuries were the kind only a Nharoth could inflict. I was not present when the attack occurred. In fact, I was on my way to Rome when I received the news. If you truly want to know, I suggest you speak with Father Simon. He was the only one in the cathedral that day."

I nodded slowly, a fire of determination igniting within me. I had to find out—who, or what, had I truly faced that day. Who was that man.