Chapter 13
Sando hadn’t lied when he said the knights would compete for my attention.
To the sound of clapping and roaring spectators, all fifty-six of them first galloped together in a wide circle around the arena.
A strange flutter stirred in my stomach as I leaned slightly over the railing to get a better look.
I couldn’t stop the small smile that formed on my lips when I saw that nearly every knight, aside from the grand and exaggerated decorations on their armor, had adorned their horses just as lavishly. I bit my lip as my gaze moved from one to another, searching for someone who might stand out.
“Anyone got your attention?” Sando asked, but I only gave a small nod.
For now, they all looked like the same peacocks, dressed in metal feathers.
My heart skipped when the horn sounded, and all the knights suddenly turned toward the edges of the arena, striking their heels against their horses and driving them toward their squires. Dust rose into the air as they grabbed their lances and, with shouts and cries, turned back toward the center.
For a moment, everything stilled.
No one breathed. Not me, nor the king or queen, not even the crowd. I clenched my teeth, my fingers digging into my damp palms.
The trumpet sounded again, and the horses struck the ground with powerful hooves. The crowd erupted, jumping to their feet.
I sat back down, swallowing the dry, dusty air, my hands clasped tightly between my knees as I watched the dangerous game unfold.
Lances shattered until the first knight fell, apparently a well-known and respected warrior from the eastern city of Tosafa, as Sando muttered beside me. The crowd burst into laughter as the knight rose from the dirt, brushing himself off.
His squire rushed to help him, only to be struck across the face.
The boy collapsed, blood spilling from his nose.
I clenched my jaw at the sight. Even if that knight could continue fighting, I would never want a man like that beside me.
My lips fell open, ready to speak words no man would hear now, but before I could, another knight, crowned with a red plume and riding a white horse, slammed into him from behind.
It wasn’t enough humiliation, though. His horse, a powerful, long-legged stallion, lunged forward and bit the man, throwing him back into the dirt.
The crowd roared with laughter again, spitting insults and mockery.
I sat back down, unable to hide the small smile that crept onto my face.
The knight didn’t rise this time. He was carried out in cotton cloth, and the battle continued as if nothing had happened beforehand.
After some time, two more knights were thrown into the dust, but my attention had already been claimed.
The knight with the red plume.
Even from here, I could tell he was young and strong. His muscular chest adorned by silvery white armor matching his horse, the one he rode with such effortless elegance. Part of me wondered how it would feel to ride beside him one day.
My fingers intertwined between my knees as I leaned forward, following his every movement, every turn, every strike. He was fast, agile, completely in control of his horse, his lance steady in his grip.
I stood for the third time, clutching the wreath I had picked up beside me.
As soon as they noticed me standing with it, the fights ceased, and the knights began circling the arena again, faster this time. They paused briefly beneath the terrace, then moved on if I didn’t stop them.
When my knight with the red plume reached me, I raised my hand.
He looked up at me, his blue eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. He lowered the tip of his lance toward me, and I let the wreath fall over it.
My heart skipped a beat.
The crowd burst into applause as he rode off.
For a moment, I looked around and took a deep breath.
Hundreds of colors. Thousands of people. Shouting names, cursing others. Fifty-five knights circling, all for me.
My knight lifted his lance high, displaying the wreath.
Knots in my stomach tightened as I watched him. He looked so strong. So powerful. His horse pounded against the soft sand, driving them forward with such a wild force.
At the sound of another trumpet, they turned back toward their squires and discarded their lances.
I watched as he removed the wreath and placed it around his neck.
He turned toward me, and I could have sworn he smiled beneath his helmet.
Heat rushed to my face. My skin burned as I swallowed and gathered my dress beneath me. The antlers on my head once again felt impossibly heavy as I sat back down, a strange warmth settling in my chest.
“So that’s your choice…” Sando said, his voice pulling me from my thoughts. I glanced at him. That familiar grin already spread across his face, his brows lifting as his eyes flicked toward my knight.
“Now comes the interesting part,” Meera said, her hands tightening into fists. There was no excitement in her voice, only something darker, sadness, perhaps, or even the ever-foul taste of dread. Corian stepped slightly forward, as if he could feel it too.
And for the crowd, this truly was the most exciting part. The real fight. The bloodiest one. The sand would now turn red. Bodies would fall from frightened horses.
Swords flashed in the air, and the fighters moved as if they already knew their targets.
They clashed, and my ears buzzed from the unpleasant sound.
My knight engaged one wearing a yellow helm.
I jumped to my feet and stepped up to the railing, my hands gripping it tightly as I watched them evade blades, their powerful horses struggling to stay steady beneath them.
Steel rang through the air, but I saw only the two of them.
I felt others rising behind me, Sando stepping beside me, silent, focused, his fingers twirling around the pendant that hung on his neck. “He’ll win,” he said, certainty clear in his voice. His words eased something in my chest. He will win.
And he did.
The yellow knight made a mistake, a stupid one, and paid for it with a heavy blow to the head.
His horse reared, throwing him to the ground, where he lay motionless.
I clapped, shouting with all my strength.
“Red! Red!” My knight raised his sword and rode toward me as battles raged around him.
The wreath gleamed at his throat like a crown.
He stopped beneath me.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
It felt like he wanted to say something. He looked up at me, his eyes crinkling under the hot sun. He opened his mouth to say something, and as he lifted his head a bit higher, as sudden as nightfall, darkness fell over him.
A black stallion crashed into him. The force sent his horse down, and a heavy blade struck across his chest.
The impact was brutal. My mouth fell open, and in all this noise, there was only a gasp that fell from my lips.
A knight clad in worn, poorly painted armor leapt from his horse and turned the tip of his sword toward my knight.
He lay on his back, struggling for breath, his horse scrambling beside him.
He reached for his weapon, but the black knight was faster. The blade pressed to his throat. “Yield,” he commanded in a cold voice. My heart pounded wildly.
He’s going to kill him.
He’s going to kill him.
I didn’t even understand why I cared so much, but panic clawed through my chest. At last, my knight raised his hands in surrender. But the black knight only pressed the blade closer. My throat went dry.
He’s going to kill him.
Slowly, my knight removed the broken plume from his helm and lowered his head to the sand, closing his eyes. Silence fell upon the entire arena.
All the fighting seemed to stop.
My lips parted, but no sound came. Then the black knight moved again. Gently, almost carefully, he hooked the wreath with the tip of his blade and lifted it from my knight’s neck. Then he turned toward me.
The wreath hung from his sword as he raised his head.
And for a moment, brown eyes met mine. He tilted his head slightly. His face remained hidden, but there was something in the way he held himself… something cold, self-assured.
The wreath slid down the blade.
A faint, knowing smile touched his lips before he turned away and mounted his horse.
The crowd erupted into wild cheers. But something twisted in my stomach. Those brown eyes…They felt familiar.
And yet that quiet arrogance made them feel like they belonged to a stranger.
The trumpet sounded. Everything stilled.
Knights raised their swords in salute while the fallen were dragged toward the healers. But the black knight…he did not celebrate. He simply sat atop his horse.
Watching me.