Chapter 13 #3
“Fine.” The stage manager made a note. “We’ll pick the random audience member to play one of the Embersworn knights right off the bat.
Now, play for drama and laughs. Engage with the audience.
We've got cameras on everyone, and the livestream chat will be on the monitors stage right if you want to glance at reactions. Questions?”
No one had any.
“All right. Break a leg.” The stage manager grinned. “Or, you know, don't. We need you all intact.”
The curtain began to rise.
The roar from the crowd was immediate and deafening. The open-air theater was packed—every bench filled, people standing three-deep at the back.
Ben stepped forward to the Game Master's podium, and the crowd quieted. He slipped easily into Benjamin the Blacksmith mode—the persona he wore at the Faire, confident and theatrical.
“Good people of the Realm!” His voice boomed, amplified by the sound system. “Welcome to the Chronicles! Today, legends walk among us. Kings and humble chroniclers. Lovely princesses and bold warriors. And one lucky soul from among you will join their ranks!”
The crowd cheered.
“Who among you is brave enough to face the challenges of BattleLore?”
Hands shot up across the theater. Ben scanned the crowd, then pointed to a young woman in the third row wearing a homemade Embersworn tabard. “You! What's your name, brave warrior?”
“Beth!” she shouted.
“Sir Beth of the Embersworn, come join us!”
She practically floated up to the stage, beaming.
The introductions followed—each character stepping forward as Ben introduced them and narrated their role.
Rowan as King Aldric drew massive applause.
Viv as the Knight Commander got whistles and cheers.
Charlie as Princess Evelaine prompted some good-natured catcalls that made her blush.
Duke as Caiden got even louder cheers than Rowan.
He pretended to be surprised, then bowed low and shot Rowan a grin that said Hear that? They love me.
Everyone took their seats at the elaborately decorated game table—a beautiful piece painted to look like weathered stone. The cards were laid out, the tokens distributed as Ben explained the rules.
“Let the Chronicles begin!” Ben declared.
The game moved smoothly. Ben narrated the scenarios, the players bantered as they made their strategic plays, and the crowd laughed at every joke and reacted to every dramatic moment.
Charlie was surprisingly good—calculating, strategic, playing Evelaine with quiet authority.
Viv was aggressive, pushing for bold moves.
Rowan played the steady, wise Aldric. Duke was.
.. Duke. Charming, witty, making the crowd laugh the hardest with his commentary.
And then, twenty minutes in, it happened.
Rowan made a play that won him the game—Aldric formed an alliance with Viv’s Sir Mariel. The crowd loved it, cheering the partnership and the victory.
Duke leaned back in his chair, grinning. “Ah, forming intimate partnerships, are we? Funny how art imitates life, eh Rowan?”
Rowan's smile tightened slightly. “It was a good strategic move.”
“Oh, absolutely.” Duke's voice was warm, friendly. Nothing but good humor. “Though I have to say, stealing the director's heart is the best way to secure your role on the show.” He laughed, like it was all a joke, like he was just ribbing a friend.
Viv’s face went pale.
The crowd's reaction was confused—some laughter, some gasps.
“Wait, what?” someone called out.
Duke looked genuinely surprised. “Oh. Oh no.” He put a hand to his mouth. “I assumed this was your public declaration!”
Viv's knuckles were white where she gripped her cards.
Duke turned to the crowd, apologetic. “My apologies, folks. I didn't mean to spill any beans. But yes—” He gestured between Rowan and Viv. “These two lovely people have been an item for months now. And honestly? I'm thrilled for them both. Congratulations!”
The theater erupted. Some cheers, but mostly gasps and shocked exclamations. Ben could see phones coming out, people already typing furiously.
On the monitor showing the livestream chat, comments exploded:
WHAT?
ROWAN AND VIVIENNE CROSS ARE TOGETHER???
Rowan found his voice. “Duke—”
“No, no, don't be embarrassed!” Duke was all warmth and support.
“Love is beautiful. I'm happy for you both. Truly.” He looked directly into the camera.
“Though I suppose this explains some creative decisions, doesn't it? Maybe if I’d tried that strategy myself, Caiden would have a future in season three.”
The implication hung in the air like poison.
Ben saw Viv's expression crumble, just for a moment, before she forced it back into place.
The crowd was buzzing, distracted. More phones came out. More comments popped up on the live feed.
IS THIS WHY SHE'S KILLING CAIDEN???
WAIT! SHE’S WHAT!?!?
#ThroneOfEmbarrassment
#KillOffVivienneCrossInstead
Duke leaned toward Beth, who looked absolutely lost. “I hope I didn't make things too awkward,” he said, loud enough for the microphones to catch. “Sometimes I forget not everyone lives in our little bubble. But really—don't you think they make a lovely couple?”
Beth nodded, starstruck.
Duke flashed that megawatt smile. “And what about you, Beth? Anyone special in your life?”
She shook her head.
“No? Well, I can’t believe that.” He took her hand and kissed the back of it. “Thanks so much for playing today.”
The game wrapped up quickly after that, the energy never quite recovering from Duke's bombshell. Ben kept things moving, trying to salvage what he could, but everyone's attention was on their phones now.
As the players stood and the curtain began to fall, Maddie came running up from stage left, tablet clutched to her chest, slightly out of breath.
“I just saw the end on the feed,” she said, her voice tight. Tears shimmered in her eyes. “I can't believe Duke did that. He's such a jerk!”
Viv reached for her. “Maddie—”
“No, seriously!” Maddie's anger seemed genuine, protective.
“He had no right to out you two like that. On a livestream! And then—” She gestured angrily toward where Duke was still chatting with Beth.
“He shouldn't be hitting on her like that.
It's so inappropriate. God, I can't stand him sometimes.”
Charlie sidled up to Ben. They stood watching Duke.
“Do you think he’s the leak?” Ben asked.
“What does it matter? If he wasn’t before, he sure is now.”