Chapter 4 #2
Maxi gaped at his insatiable hunger. After gulping down wine like water, he urged her to eat again with a sharp look.
He always pressures me to eat….
Maxi sliced off a steaming piece of smoked meat and brought it to her mouth. It was fatty and sweet, and paired well with the side of light salad greens. Despite her anxiety, the food tasted delicious. The chef here at Calypse Castle was undeniably more skilled than the one at Croyso Castle.
As Riftan watched her eat, he deposited more food onto her plate. “Try some of this. It’s good.”
She took a bite. This meat was marinated in a red sauce and tasted gamey, though it was not terrible. While she chewed, Maxi glanced at the platters on the table. Most were piled high with meats, but she could not identify all of it.
As soon as she finished her plate of food, Riftan passed her steamed fowl stuffed with beans and potatoes. “Here, eat this too.”
“I c-can’t eat all th-that.”
“You’ve barely eaten! Come now, just a bit more.”
Maxi scrunched up her nose. She had forced herself to eat everything that Riftan put on her plate, and she now felt nauseous. Unable to endure another bite of the rich feast, she set her fork down.
Riftan frowned. “Even birds eat more than you do.”
“Th-That’s not t-true. I’ve had so m-much….”
Riftan snorted. A heap of bones, picked clean, sat on his plate. Even among the knights, he seemed to have an exceptional appetite. Maxi really did eat like a bird in comparison.
She sighed. “H-How much is e-enough?”
Riftan glanced at her, his mouth full. He swallowed the food before answering her nonchalantly. “You should eat a whole chicken, at least.”
“I d-don’t think m-most women c-can eat that m-much…”
“I know one woman who did.”
Maxi winced. Who was he referring to? Was he fond of women with big appetites? Most men wanted healthy wives who could bear them healthy children. She looked down at her own thin body. Squeezing her eyes shut, she pushed more food into her mouth, determined to eat just a little more.
Riftan smiled. “Try eating more and more each day. You’re too frail.”
She nodded, an entire piece of bread stuffed in her mouth, and Riftan began drinking with the older knight sitting next to him. As Maxi sipped her wine to wash the food down, she studied their faces. Many were ones she did not recognize from the journey to Anatol.
At the center of the table were younger knights drinking and laughing raucously, and at the far end sat youths who had seen no more than sixteen summers. Two middle-aged knights near the head of the table offered Riftan glass after glass of wine.
Maxi continued to sip her own wine, intrigued by their conversation.
They spoke of the progress of the squires’ training, crop yields and mine outputs, monster sightings, the efficacy of various weapons.
She never had the chance to learn about such matters—or even overhear their discussion—at her father’s castle.
Riftan was still engrossed in the conversation with the senior knights when the youngest of squires, a youth with silver hair, sprang up from his seat.
“Sir Riftan!” he cried. “Is it true that during the final battle in the Lexos Mountains, you cut through Dragon’s Breath with your blade aura?”
Everyone stopped talking to stare at the young man. Unruffled by the stares of the senior knights, he continued to chatter away.
“They say the flames of Dragon’s Breath can blow off the tops of mountains. It’s the most powerful magic in the natural world! How were you able to cut through it with only a sword?”
“My blade aura just so happens to be special,” answered Riftan, irritated by the interruption.
“Our captain’s sword can absorb any magic that it encounters,” interjected a knight as he filled a large tankard with ale. “The stronger the opponent’s magic, the stronger his sword becomes.”
Maxi recognized Hebaron Nirtha, one of the knights who had traveled with them to Anatol.
“Well, even without such a unique sword, our captain is an excellent swordsman!” said Sir Hebaron. “He bested that pompous commander of the Osiriyan Temple Knights!”
“He’s the commander, not captain,” said Ursuline Ricaydo, the short-tempered blond knight. “When will you get rid of those mercenary habits of yours?”
Sir Hebaron snorted loudly. “Captain, commander, it’s all the same! Don’t lecture me on useless distinctions.”
The silver-haired youth watched them bicker for a moment, then shouted with renewed excitement. “Is it true, then, that Sir Riftan dueled Sir Kuahel Leon of the Temple Knights? Why doesn’t anyone ever speak of it?”
“It wasn’t the time to brag,” Ricaydo said sharply.
“The Dragon Campaign was right before us, and two of the greatest knights dueled each other instead. The campaign’s high command feared that Sir Kuahel’s defeat would demoralize the Temple Knights and weaken the alliance with them, so they silenced all talk of it.
One duel can always lead to another among hot-blooded knights.
We were there to hunt a dragon, not fight in a tourney. ”
“S-Still, it was a duel between the two strongest knights on the continent! It’s a pity that no one has heard of it. It must have been spectacular to see.”
“Slaying the dragon was more than enough,” Riftan said dryly.
“I don’t need any other exploits to my name.
And it wasn’t an official duel—we were preparing for the Dragon Campaign, so both of us held back.
As for the dragon, my contribution to that victory was greater than Sir Kuahel’s solely because of my sword’s ability to absorb magic.
It had nothing to do with swordsmanship. ”
“It’s not like you to be so modest,” quipped a young knight as he munched on an apple. “A victory’s a victory. You both agreed to a duel under limited conditions, and you won fair and square.”
The silver-haired squire looked eagerly toward the new speaker. “Sir Gabel! Please tell us more about the duel.”
Gabel Lachzion raised a brow. “You’d rather hear about that instead of the campaign?”
“No! You must tell us about the dragon too!”
Sir Gabel chuckled at the youth’s enthusiasm. Maxi listened intently, hoping he would tell the story. She had heard bards sing at her father’s banquets about the heroic deeds of knights, but she had never heard the stories firsthand.
Gabel guzzled a tankard of golden ale before recounting the campaign’s early days, beginning with a battle against ogres and trolls.
By the time his vivid account reached the struggle against three basilisks in the valley leading into the Lexos Mountains, Maxi was just as enthralled as the bright-eyed squires.
The monsters she had encountered in person had been terrifying, but she was captivated by the creatures in Gabel’s eloquent narration.
As she silently marveled at his talent for storytelling, Riftan reached out and touched the pearl necklace at her throat.
Maxi turned to him in surprise and found him watching her, his head propped up on one hand.
“W-What is it?” Maxi asked, then gasped softly as his hand grazed past her nape to stroke the bare skin above her plunging neckline. Mortified, she looked around the room, but the others were too engrossed in conversation to notice.
She let out a sigh of relief and tried to push Riftan’s arm away.
He smirked and toyed with the loose strands of hair resting on her shoulder instead, then tapped her collarbone with his fingertips.
A pleasant tingle shivered through her body, and she trembled as he traced the length of her spine before grasping her waist. As his hand caressed her belly, she blushed.
“R-Riftan…”
“It seems my wife has had too much wine,” Riftan addressed the knights. “We’ll take our leave now.”
The animated chatter among the knights quieted as the men exchanged knowing looks. Maxi blushed crimson, certain that she would die of embarrassment.
“Let’s go,” Riftan said, ignoring the knights’ suggestive jests.
He helped Maxi to her feet and led her out of the dining hall.
She followed him on faltering steps, and her eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness.
Not a sliver of moonlight shone through the opaque windows, and the corridors were illuminated by only dim flickering lamps. The walls gave off a deep chill.
“R-Riftan,” Maxi pulled at his arm, unable to keep up with his quickening pace. “P-Please slow d-down.”
Suddenly, Riftan grabbed her waist and slid his hands down to her thighs, lifting her up so her legs were at his hips.
She cried out, but he pushed her against the staircase wall and kissed her passionately, stifling the sound.
Though the entanglement of their tongues was overwhelming, Maxi found herself tightening her grip around his shoulders.
She had tasted his lips countless times, yet each kiss still felt new and strange.
“I wanted to do this all day.” Riftan’s growl reverberated through her, and the vibrations tickled her insides. “I was holding back for your sake, but you were watching the other men so intently….”
As his powerful chest pressed against her breasts, Riftan slid a calloused hand into her hair and pulled her closer.
He resumed their ascent upstairs and, with each step he climbed, he showered her with kisses.
Maxi clung to his neck, afraid of tumbling down the stairs.
Once, Riftan had been a source of fear, but now his touch melted her thoughts until they trickled and pooled deep inside her like molten rock.
“Damn these stairs! Why are there so many?” Riftan impatiently slid a hand under her skirt and stroked her thigh.
“N-No!” Maxi shrieked. “N-Not out here—”