War Of Hearts

Chapter 4

Everyone cheered. The sound of the crowds made her heart beat faster and overwhelmed her. But her eyes were concentrated on the King as a stand on his stage, wearing the crown that once owned by her father. Behind stands his council members, and as a girl who came from a high station like hers. She was obliged to remember the faces of nobles who once served her father and the ones who betrayed him. She stands next to Lord Commander Mel, who sent the raven to her Uncle Whels. He’s their man inside, and now that he’s slowly rising to power victory will be on their side once the day that she will take her father’s throne back. Though it wasn’t really the throne she wanted, it was Qal’s head.

She was standing so close with him, her hand clasped around the hilt of her sword. She was standing so close to him that she can see the veins in his neck. The red velvet suit that he was wearing did not do its job to cover his long scar on his back that anyone could see the tail on his neck. Flashbacks of the day he took this kingdom from her family. The screams of her mother ring her ears as tears started to pour from her eyes. She was about to raise her sword when Ser Mel grabbed her that was holding the hilt.

“We didn’t risk our lives to keep you safe for you to be carried away by your emotions,” He said in a low voice, it was very low yet she heard the tense in it. He was right, she can’t be selfish and blow everything away. “Hold yourself together, your time will come. Just keep a low profile, so no one would notice you,”

“My beloved subjects,” Qal shouted and everyone fell silent, eagerly waiting for what the King has to say, “Today, I anointed two warriors to serve our Kingdom, and we shall celebrate them. I’m calling forward my brother, Darren to showcase his prowess against one of the Kingsguards Knights,”

The crowd roared in response. This is what the people loved about the Boy King because he celebrates with his people and not hiding behind the castle. Like the old dead King did, after all, Roel inherited the throne at a very old age. He was known for his sharpness, but he was kind enough not to raise the taxes that would make his people hate him. He was never fond of festivities nor celebration. He likes to keep to himself.

“Ser Forleo Nocturne of the Kingsguard, please step inside the Arena and join my brother,” The King said, politely.

Taliya bowed before she jumps off the stage and landed on the ground of the Fighting Pit. There stands Crown Prince Darren as the sun illuminates down to him, wearing a golden armor with the sigil of his House engraved on his chest. His auburn hair was neatly pushed back, emphasizing the beauty of his face that he inherited from his father's side. Chestnut brown eyes staring at her in confusion with his brows furrowed together. Underestimating her because of her average height. She stands in front of him, and she bowed before unsheathing her sword. The Princeling did the same.

The crowd cheered once again, and the King smiled triumphantly.

“Today as the two of you stand in the Fighting Pit. Two warriors of Rosegland, Begin!”

Darren smirked and watches her every move. Smiling as if victory is certain for him. Taliya smirked back as she remembers the boys back in the village, underestimating her just because she’s a girl holding a sword. They were peasant boys, and they do not fight like highborn boys. Once the sword hit the ground, the play still remains until the other one yield. Whels once found her knocking a boy to the ground and sometimes crawling with one on the ground covered with filth. Highborns do not like getting their precious suits get filthy, but peasant boys do not mind as long as victory is theirs.

“You can yield, good Knight,” Darren said, “I can easily knock you down without sweating,” Taunting her as if it would make her weak, but little did he know that she spends her whole life being taunted by those peasant boys. She was used to it and knows that he’s only saying that because he wants to make her nervous.

“You can try, My Prince,” She said with a smirk which made his face fell because he wasn’t probably expecting that she would match her with his arrogance. No one had ever dared to do that in his entire life and this little Knight did and showed not even a hint of fear. She was confident, something Darren tried to be.

She swings on her right side and struck her sword against his. She held the blade even, a perfect, undaunted horizon; always leveled with the nose. Just as her Uncle Whels had taught her. Darren strikes back, but she was able to raise her shield up and hit him with it. She has stalled his strike, but watch a wretched, stained grin split the Crown Prince’s lips as her blade shivered under the brutality of his compelling strength.

“I’ve never combat with a small knight before, and no one has ever challenged me this way,” He throatily crooned, leaning closer to her face. She can feel the tension and hear the intensity in his tone. 

She was unsure if she should say something back or just stay silent. Dogs always bark, but lions don't.

He advances towards her and swings his sword. The crowd cheered for their Prince until she responded with it that send his sword sprawling on the floor. It was so silent that everyone could hear the clinking sound of the steel hitting the ground. 

She wields her sword and stops right on his neck, staring at his eyes with mockery in her lips, “Do you yield, My Prince?”

Everyone gasped as they all heard her dauntlessly asking the Presumptive Heir of the King to yield. It was an honor to dismount a Prince in a sporty tourney, yet it was an insult for the Royal Family.

“Yes, I yield to you,” He finally said with disdain in his voice.

She smiled widely and let out a bow. 

When she gets back to the stage, Ser Mel narrowed his eyes at her. “What part of ‘Keeping a low profile’ you didn’t understand?” He said.

She smiled, “Sorry. I was having fun,”