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Chapter Text

Ursuline gasped as he watched Richard Breston grip his sword blade that had pierced his shoulder. He thought he had gained the upper hand in the duel by injuring the giant of a man, but realized that he was gravely mistaken. As if he felt no pain, Breston laughed, then he raised his other arm and smashed the hilt of his sword against the side of Ursuline’s head.

CLANG!!

The impact almost caused Ursuline to release the handle of his sword. He moaned from the painful blow and his vision blurred for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. He swallowed hard. If it had not been for the sturdy helmet protecting his head, he could only imagine what kind of damage the hilt would’ve caused. He gritted his teeth, knowing that he needed to pull his sword out of Breston’s shoulder and evade his next attack, but before he could move, Ursuline received an onslaught of strikes to the head.

CLANG!... CLANG!... CLANG!…

The sounds of the arena soon became muffled and Ursuline felt his warm blood trickling down his face, obscuring his view of the man who had trapped him with his powerful grip. He could still see the menacing grin on his lips, but could no longer make out his words. He twisted his body as he tried to pry his sword, but it was no use— Breston held the blade in place as if it were nothing.

Ursuline now began to feel faint with each strike. Convinced that it would be even more humiliating if he lost consciousness in front of the spectators, he drew a breath and accepted his inevitable defeat. With that, he removed one hand from his sword to initiate his surrender, but suddenly, Breston grabbed his hand and pulled the blade from his own shoulder. Then, he swung his greatsword at Ursuline’s arm, nearly cutting it off.

“Hahh!”

The low growl escaped his mouth as he panickedly sat up from the bed. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears and his bare chest heaved with each rapid breath.

Ever since the tournament, Ursuline’s sleep had been plagued with vivid dreams of his duel with Richard Breston.

He took a look at his right arm which was wrapped in bandages. “Dammit…” he sighed, palming his face with his left hand.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

What time is it?

Ursuline looked towards the large windows of his bedchambers and saw the slivers of sunlight on the floor. It was already morning. The servants usually brought him breakfast around this time. They would leave his tray in the sitting area, then bring him washcloths and towels along with several pitchers of warm water and washbasins so he could clean himself. It was painstaking and unideal, but since his recent injuries prevented him from taking baths, at least it kept him looking and smelling decent. “Come in,” he ordered before plopping himself back on the bed.

The door opened slowly and closed, only to be followed by silence.

Ursuline lifted his head, wincing at the slight throb of pain in his temple, to see what was wrong. Sure enough, there was a figure standing in front of the door of his chambers. He narrowed his eyes, but the sitting room was too dark for him to see who it was. Judging by the size and frame, however, he could tell that it was a woman.

“Sir Ricaydo?” a soft and unfamiliar voice called to him.

Servants knew better not to speak to him unless there was a good reason. Each day, they would wordlessly bring him his food and other necessities as they always have whenever he stayed in the Roemian Palace. It was obvious to him that his unexpected visitor was no servant. In fact, he felt that he was in a rather familiar situation, he just didn’t expect it to happen so soon after being injured. Such unwanted visits also occurred at night, never during the day.

Occasionally, women would sneak into his bedroom while he was away or asleep, but ever since his injury, some of his subordinates had been stationed to guard his door as a precaution and to keep him undisturbed. It was protocol. Heads will roll if he found out that someone had neglected their duty. Ursuline took a deep breath, thinking that this woman was rather bold and shameless to have entered his room regardless of who would see her come in or out. He was in absolutely no mood to be patient or polite to such a wanton character, especially given his current state.

“I will say this only once,” he warned icily. “I don’t care what you have to offer. I’ve heard and seen it all… Let’s not waste each other’s time. Please leave my chambers at once.”

“I beg your pardon?” she responded in surprise.

“Don’t bother with attempting to seduce me. I may be injured, but it doesn’t make me vulnerable prey to the likes of you.”

“Ursuline,” she uttered gently. “I'm afraid you're mistaken.”

He groaned at her calm disregard for his words. He rose from the bed to open the curtains so he could see who the intruder was. “Who exactly are you?” he hissed as he stomped to the nearest window and pulled the heavy curtain back with his left hand.

“It’s me…”

He whipped his head towards her as soon as the golden sunlight filled his room.

“Isobel.”

Ursuline’s eyes widened. “Isobel?…” Feeling as if he’d been doused with cold water, goosebumps instantly formed on his body. “Come closer,” he muttered without even realizing it.

She entered his bedroom with slow and careful steps. Ursuline squinted his eyes to acclimate to the sunlight, and soon, she was standing near the foot of his bed. She had light brown hair that was braided to one side, gentle eyes, a button nose, and rosy lips. Her luxurious lavender gown that had silver trim on the sleeves and the skirt covered her modestly, but Ursuline couldn’t help but notice how well it hugged her ample bosom and slender waist. He blinked as soon as he caught himself admiring her appearance. He swallowed hard as he stared at her, unsure of what he should say next. He had never been so caught off-guard. She was the last person in the world he thought he would see.

He watched her move her eyes slowly from his head down to his bare feet, and he swore that he heard her breath hitch before she turned her head away towards the wall. Finally, he straightened his posture and cleared his throat. “What are you doing here?”

“Pardon my intrusion…” she replied softly. “I came to see how you were recovering. I was told that you were usually up by now.”

“Who gave you permission to see me?”

“Sir Hebaron Nirtha. He escorted me here.”

Of course he did… That nosy oaf.

“Perhaps I should give you a moment?” she added as she turned the rest of her body away.

It was then that Ursuline realized that he only had on trousers. He clicked his tongue at his immodesty and looked down. To his horror, the ties on his waist were completely undone, exposing the lower part of his chiseled abdomen. Any more movement and his pants would surely fall. He grabbed the top of his trousers and hurried towards the partition to fasten the ties and grab a tunic. “My apologies. I-I… I didn’t mean for you to see me like this,” he stammered.

“I’m the one who came unannounced. It’s I who should apologize,” Isobel replied. “I’ll just wait in the sitting room.”

Ursuline carefully donned a button-down tunic, peeking through the partition as she opened the curtains in the other room. He put on his boots using one hand, moving as fast as he could. Then, he walked to the nightstand and drank a glass of water to moisten his dry throat. Before making his way to the sitting area, he took a look at himself in the bronze mirror on the wall. His head injury looked a lot better, but there was still an unsightly, sizable bruise on his temple. He ran his hand over his hair a few times to try and cover it more. Then, he placed his left hand over his mouth to smell his breath. Ursuline cringed. He poured himself another glass of water and sloshed the liquid around his mouth before gulping it down. He looked presentable enough, but was not pleased with his overall appearance. Suddenly, there was another knock on the door. “Please sit down. I don’t want anyone to see you,” he said to Isobel before he hurriedly opened the door. A servant stood outside with a tray of food which he took with one hand. “I need to wash up. Bring me the usual,” he ordered before closing the door with his foot. He turned to his visitor who was now sitting on the couch, out of sight from the doorway.

“I should leave,” she said, getting up. “This was a mistake…” Her face had sunk when he told her to sit down so no one would see her. He didn’t mean to sound as if he were ashamed to be seen with her, it was just that he had never been alone with a woman for this long, nor had he ever entertained one in his private chambers. In truth, Ursuline had no idea what he was doing.

“No. Stay,” he insisted.

Flustered, Isobel bit her lip.

He chided himself in his head. In a matter of minutes, he had managed to act foolishly several times. He had mistaken Isobel for a wanton woman who was trying to sleep with him, nearly exposed himself by the window, then behaved rudely by telling her to stay out of sight. He had to rectify the situation.

“Let me help you with that,” she muttered uncomfortably.

Isobel walked over to Ursuline to grab the tray, but he held on to it firmly. Their eyes met. She swallowed hard while he studied her face. Her eyes that he had always thought were brown were actually a deep violet, and he remembered finding her attractive when she came of age, but now, there was something more alluring about her. Still, he couldn’t even remember the last time he saw her. Then, it dawned on him. This was actually the first time that he and Isobel had ever spoken directly.

After what seemed like eternity, there was another knock on the door, snapping him out of his musings. He loosened his grip on the tray and Isobel pulled away and set it on the table while Ursuline opened the door. Servants quickly entered with the water, basins and linens that he had requested, then they exchanged puzzled looks upon seeing a woman standing in the room with an awkward, yet dignified expression on her face.

Isobel hurried towards the door while the servants set the items in the bedroom.

“Isobel, please wait,” Ursuline called after her.

“I really am sorry,” she sighed, looking at him with dejected eyes, “I shouldn’t have come…”

Ursuline was about to follow, but stopped when he remembered that he still had servants in his room. He didn’t need anyone gossiping about him chasing after a woman, especially in his current state. Who knew what assumptions they’d already made upon seeing her in his chambers so early in the morning. He looked in the direction of his bedroom and sure enough, the servants had stopped their movements to watch their exchange. Sensing his ire, they quickly finished their work and left without a word.

Ursuline trudged back to the bedroom and closed the door. He undressed then began his meticulous routine of cleaning himself the best he could. Afterwards, he went back to the sitting area to eat his meal. He pulled up a chair and opened the tray, but he didn’t have an appetite. Part of him wanted to summon his subordinates to find Isobel and bring her back that instant. Another part of him wanted to find her himself. He needed to apologize for his behavior.

But why should I? She’s the one who barged in unannounced.

His eyebrows furrowed when a more important question came to mind.

What did she want?

He ran a hand over his hair and leaned back on the chair. A barrage of memories flooded his head, ones that he had long forgotten, starting with the day he and Isobel first met.

Chapter Text

THWACK!

There was a ringing in his left ear and his cheek stung. Ursuline bit his tongue to distract himself from the pain. It was a strange habit that he had learned over the years- distract himself from his current pain by causing a different kind.

“You lost the sparring match to that imbecile?!” his older brother bellowed as he rubbed his palm with his other hand. “I did not train you to be incompetent!”

“If I didn’t let cousin Caleb win, he’d be thrown out of the order. It was his last chance,” he replied weakly.

Another slap landed on his other cheek and a mark quickly appeared on his flesh.

“You dare talk back to me?”

“Of course not. I… just wanted to explain why it happened.”

“If Caleb Hurst can’t handle the squires’ training, then he is unfit to serve the Royal Knights. Are you that stupid not to realize that?”

“…”

“You think you did anyone a service?” Trevor spat. “Not only did you sully your flawless record by losing to that buffoon, but more importantly, you embarrassed the Ricaydo name! There’s gonna be talk of this… and it’s going to reflect on me.”

He rubbed the space between his eyes and muttered, “It’ll surely be brought up when we meet with the Parans… Another mess I’ll have to fix.”

“I’m sorry, brother.”

He shot Ursuline daggers with his eyes and shook his head at him with disdain. “Gilbreth!” he yelled.

There was a knock, then an older man entered Ursuline’s bedroom. “Yes, Sir Trevor?”

“Get rid of the bruise on his face,” he ordered. “He needs to look pristine this evening. Make it quick!”

Ursuline looked at Gilbreth, then at Trevor.

“Do not jeopardize this evening, Ursuline,” he warned, pointing a finger at him. “This dinner is the only thing keeping me from disciplining you as I should… Try anything stupid again tonight and you will regret it.”

He nodded obediently before Trevor left the room. Sensing the sympathy in the old man’s eyes, Ursuline stood tall and steeled his demeanor.

“Are you alright, Young Master?” Gilbreth asked moments after the doors closed.

Ursuline shrugged his shoulders as he watched the mage saunter towards him.

“It seems you’ve had quite a day.”

“Trevor’s wrath is nothing new… I’m quite used to it. You, of all people, should know that.”

The old man sighed as he examined Ursuline’s face. “I hear that there’s something to celebrate this evening?”

“Don’t try to lighten the mood on my account,” Ursuline responded dryly. “Save your congratulations for my brother.”

Gilbreth pursed his lips.

“You know it’s true, old man. It’s all for him. I’m just doing the first of my many duties as his future man-at-arms… It’s all I’ll ever be.”

“It doesn’t have to be so, young master.”

Ursuline raised an eyebrow before shaking his head with cynicism.

“I’ve told you before, you are quite talented and, I must say, wise beyond your years… You can be your own man if that is what you truly desire.”

“Yes, wouldn’t that be nice?” he mumbled sarcastically as he felt heat on his left cheek.

Gilbreth had cast healing magic on him and in no time, the redness and swelling disappeared.

“Are you injured anywhere else?”

Ursuline rolled up his sleeve and showed him a purple forearm.

“Goodness!” the old mage gasped. “There are plenty of mages at the Royal Knights’ training grounds. Why was this not attended to sooner?”

“We had to make it believable and Caleb was a little overzealous… I didn’t want anyone to see.”

Gilbreth shook his head with disapproval. “I overheard that you lost on purpose… This could be serious.”

Carefully, he inspected Ursuline’s arm. “Does it hurt?”

“Of course it does, old man. Look at it,” he bluntly retorted as he shifted his arm and squeezed his fist. “But it’s barely affected my movement.”

He sighed before casting healing and recovery magic over the injury, the process taking much longer than Ursuline had expected.

“What’s the matter, old man? Already winded by a minor injury?” he whispered before a smirk formed on his lips. “If you dally any more, then Trevor just might return and beat us both to a bloody pulp. You know he hates to wait.”

The mage rolled his eyes at his poorly executed jest. “Minor my eye… I sense a small fracture in your bone.”

“Oh.”

In spite of the pain he’d been in all afternoon, Ursuline didn’t think he had actually broken his arm from getting struck repeatedly with a wooden sword. Finally, Gilbreth finished up and patted the area. “Good as new.”

“What would I do without you, Gilbreth?” he asked mockingly.

“Do be careful, young master,” the old mage warned before turning to leave. “It was kind of you to let your cousin win, but--”

“Half of our family already thinks he’s a failure. I had to do something. Who knows what his father might do to him if he got dismissed from the order…”

“Your brother is right. If he can’t withstand training as a squire, then he shouldn’t be there.”

“He’ll do better, Gilbreth,” Ursuline stated firmly. “He has to… I know I can’t always help him.”

The old mage smiled bitterly.

“Thank you for mending me… again.”

In spite of Ursuline’s harsh upbringing and hardened exterior, deep down, he still had a kind disposition, and even at times, a sense of humor.

Gilbreth had known the Ricaydo family for decades. He had served as a mage for the Royal Knights of Wedon where he met Ursuline’s father and grandfather.

When he retired from serving the Royal Knights, he became the family’s personal mage before Ursuline was born. He was present during his birth and assisted Ursuline’s mother, Countess Emilia Ricaydo, who had endured a long and difficult childbirth due to her advanced age. Fortunately, she had borne a strong and healthy baby boy.

Count Razvan Ricaydo, Ursuline’s father, was displeased that his wife had gotten pregnant again after so many years and didn’t want the inconvenience of raising another child. The Countess, Emilia, was nervous and melancholic throughout her pregnancy, and received no support from her husband, but was happy when she finally met her newborn son. Unfortunately, she fell ill from the recurring episodes of the doldrums and passed on when Ursuline was only a young boy.

As for Trevor Ricaydo, he detested the idea of having a much younger sibling, especially since he had just been knighted and was old enough to be a father himself at the time of Ursuline’s birth. He was the apple of Count Razvan’s eye. Disciplined, skilled, intelligent, and cunning; their father spent years grooming him to inherit his title and take the helm as the future leader of the Ricaydo clan.

After Countess Emilia died, Trevor was charged with Ursuline’s upbringing. He resented their father for passing him the responsibility, but over time, he learned to tolerate his younger brother, maybe even grew to like him. Still, Ursuline was often subjected to extreme discipline under Trevor’s hands, believing that it would help him become the man he needed to be to fulfill his duties and elevate the Ricaydo name.

Gilbreth had always shown kindness and favor to his young master, but was careful to keep his distance and remain neutral when Trevor and the Count were around. Unbeknownst to any one, Ursuline reminded him of his son, Danael, a kind, bright, but serious young man who had aspired to become a knight. Unfortunately, he died years ago, just before Gilbreth had saved enough coin to send him to a small and lesser known order of knights to become a squire.

Chapter Text

Ursuline mechanically moved the food around in his plate with the fork as he listened to the terms of both parties. He heard Trevor clear his throat, causing him to sit up straight and bring a slice of roast lamb to his mouth. He looked up. As expected, his older brother had been watching him, making sure that he behaved properly in front of their esteemed hosts.

He caught sight of the maids who were standing near the far end of the room smiling at each other as they stole glances at Trevor. Even the noblewomen seated on the lavish banquet table couldn’t help themselves and seemed entranced by him, soaking in his words each time he spoke.

He furrowed his eyebrows then took a sip from his goblet of wine, wondering why Trevor had such a strange effect on women.

Then it dawned on him. Many young girls seemed to behave similarly whenever he would accompany the knights to town, and when he would show up at Drachium Palace or other places where nobles gathered. He had often been told that he held a striking resemblance to Trevor in spite of their significant age gap– sharp features, same golden hair, same deep blue eyes, similar physique. At that moment, his eyes moved to the seat directly across from him.

Ursuline’s lips twisted into a scowl.

A brown-haired girl with dark colored eyes was gawking at him with her mouth slightly agape and her fist resting on the table.

How long has that fork been in her hand?

She was like a statue as she had not blinked nor moved once since Ursuline noticed her.

He shifted in his seat and took another drink as her eyes continued to burn him. Her chubby cheeks, braids and the flowers in her hair emphasized just how young she looked. She was so out of place sitting amongst the adults on the banquet table; but then, maybe so was he as there weren’t any other young men or ladies present.

It’s rude to stare, hadn’t anyone taught her that?

Growing more and more uncomfortable each second, Ursuline pursed his lips and stared back at her as icily as he possibly could, hoping to scare her and make her stop. Instead, her eyes lit up and she flashed him a big smile.

Trevor cleared his throat again.

Ursuline whipped his head towards his older brother and ceased his intimidation.

“We are in agreement, then?” Marquis Remilard Paran spoke, “The entire dowry will be delivered by the end of the month… Such an acquisition is unheard of, but I trust that nothing will break this betrothal?”

“Agreed,” Count Ricaydo replied. “We’re a trustworthy family who uphold our word and honor, Remi. The terms are fair.”

The Marquis smiled, “Generous is what it is, Razvan… If your family wasn’t so favored by the crown, I’d cut that dowry in half.”

“That settles it, then.” Trevor stood up as he raised his goblet. “Let’s toast to a strong and successful union between the Parans and the Ricaydos.”

“Hear! Hear!”

“To a stronger lineage!”

“Here’s to a successful marriage!”

“A toast… to Isobel and Ursuline!”

Ursuline wore a placid expression on his face as he watched everyone seated at the table raise their goblets in unison before drinking their wine. Even young Isobel mimicked their actions and drank her water. Finally, he reluctantly followed suit, emptying his cup. A servant promptly approached to refill it.

Count Razvan had aspirations for Trevor to gain political power in Drachium over time and an alliance with one of the wealthiest families in all of Wedon was a way to ensure it. He and Trevor had orchestrated Ursuline’s betrothal to Isobel Paran when she was just a baby and he was only a few years old, believing that it would be better to marry-off Ursuline to secure a hefty dowry that would benefit Trevor, and allow the latter the freedom to advance socially and politically, void of any attachments.

Although tonight’s dinner was nothing more than a formality to announce the betrothal in the capital and finalize the agreement in regards to the dowry and terms of marriage, it was evident that his family’s plan was finally coming to fruition.

Trevor motioned for Ursuline to stand up and follow him while the dinner attendees congratulated and expressed their well-wishes to the uniting families. Ursuline felt slightly unsteady as he straightened his coat before walking over to the Marquis and Marchioness.

“There you are!” the Marchioness exclaimed as Ursuline bowed. She extended her hand, which he carefully took and kissed. Suddenly, there was an uncomfortable churn in his stomach.

“My, my… Your resemblance to Trevor is truly uncanny. What a handsome specimen,” she hummed with a giggle. “I hope you’re just like your brother!”

“Pardon me, Milady?” Ursuline asked with a confused look.

“A true gentleman… Perhaps, the most chivalrous and honorable man in all of Drachium. You seem a little bit more quiet and reserved than he, but that’s quite alright,” she beamed. “You’re still just as charming.”

Ursuline pressed his lips together and forced a smile. “Thank you, Milady.”

She waved to the brown-haired girl. “Come here, darling.”

The girl, who had been watching their exchange, stood from her seat and quickly approached.

“Isobel, say hello to your future husband.”

Another giddy smile formed on her face as she curtsied and Ursuline bowed.

Isobel, who looked to be full of excitement, shakily extended her hand to him.

Ursuline’s eyebrows curled inward.

Was my bow not enough? Why is this child making me kiss her hand? This gesture is reserved for ladies.

The pain in his belly worsened.

“Are you alright, my dear?” Marchioness Paran asked with concern. “You look rather pale.”

Ursuline couldn’t speak. Nausea had taken over him. He held up one finger toward her while he cupped his other hand over his mouth. Then, he ran out of the large banquet hall to the nearest balcony.

He retched and gagged as he vomited over the marble railing. He had never felt this sick in his life. Ursuline recalled exactly what he ate that evening; nothing out of the ordinary, but he did drink some wine. Three goblets, to be exact.

He had tasted wine before on a few occasions, but never indulged like most young noblemen did. However, he took frequent sips of it during dinner to pass the time, acclimating to its bittersweet taste.

Ursuline continued regurgitating. Each time he thought it was over, the disgusting taste lingering in his mouth would lead to another wave of vomiting. He was now at the point where there was nothing left to cough up.

Feeling drained, he grasped the railing and took deep breaths to calm the squeezing sensation in his belly.

“What on earth is going on?” a calm, yet chilling voice asked him from behind.

“A moment please… brother,” Ursuline moaned.

“Are you drunk?”

“No… I don’t think so… I don’t know.”

“How much wine did you have?”

“Just three goblets.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Trevor approached him. He frowned as soon as he saw his pale face and the saliva dribbling down his chin. He handed him his handkerchief to wipe his face which Ursuline accepted with gratitude.

“Stand upright,” he said as he straightened out Ursuline’s sleeves and coat. “Can you walk?”

“Yes.”

He patted Ursuline’s cheeks to bring out some color and tidied his hair.

“I’ll make an excuse so we can leave. Try to endure until then,” Trevor quietly instructed. “Walk steadily and follow me.”

He was baffled by his older brother’s considerate actions, but Ursuline put on a flat expression and only nodded his head.

As soon as they entered the banquet hall, Marquis Paran stood up.

“Is everything alright, gentlemen?” he asked.

Trevor gave everyone a charming smile. “Apologies, Marquis Paran… It seems that my younger brother is feeling a bit unwell. He was so eager to make a good impression on you and the Marchioness that he worked himself up to a tizzy.”

“There’s really no need to fret, Ursuline,” the Marquis chuckled. “You already have the family’s approval.”

“Just the same, I do apologize if I’ve insulted the Marchioness and Lady Isobel by leaving abruptly. I meant no disrespect.” Ursuline added as he bowed to his hosts. It took all his strength to control his speech and only appear to be ill, not drunk.

Marchioness Paran smiled with a nod in acknowledgement, while young Isobel watched him with a worried look on her face.

“Apology accepted,” the Marquis chimed. “You and Trevor may take your leave. The dinner party has concluded. I will have my carriage take your father home later as he and I still have much to discuss.”

Chapter Text

Ursuline walked slowly up the steps of their home. He felt much better after vomiting at the Paran estate, but was still feeling rather drowsy. Strangely, he also felt a bit relaxed in spite of how the evening had transpired.

He sighed. Who knew that he had such a low tolerance to alcohol? His brother and father could drink decanter after decanter, yet he got drunk after three measly goblets.

As soon as they walked through the entrance of their home, Trevor grabbed Ursuline by the shoulder to face him.

Suddenly, a large fist smashed into his jaw.

The punch caused Ursuline to fall back and slide a few feet across the floor.

“Didn’t I say I would make you regret it if you fucked up tonight?” Trevor asked angrily as he walked towards him.

Ursuline, shocked by the sudden attack, tried to scramble to his feet. “But the evening went well! I don’t understand.”

“You got drunk at your own betrothal dinner! Have you lost your mind?!” he growled before kicking him in the abdomen.

Ursuline rolled over and groaned as he clutched his stomach. He looked up with clenched teeth. He could see the servants running out of the room.

“Three goblets of wine, you say? You gagged and regurgitated like a damned lush! I had to distract the guests from hearing you!”

Ursuline calmed his breathing as he crouched on the ground. He should’ve known that Trevor wouldn’t let him off easily. When the pain was tolerable, he slowly stood up.

“That’s the most amount of wine I have ever consumed… I don’t know why it made me ill.”

“Don’t lie to me!”

A fist flew to the same spot in his gut. Ursuline fell down again, winded.

“I can’t believe you would behave so carelessly! You sloppy, reckless fool! Surely, you must have drunk your fill when I had to leave the room!” Trevor yelled. “Do you know what I was doing while you were indulging yourself?... I was pacifying the knights in attendance who were questioning your skills and qualifications because you lost the sparring match to that useless bag of hay!”

“...”

“Our reputation was already on the line and you almost jeopardized everything by getting yourself drunk!”

Trevor rubbed his forehead. “Have you learned nothing about propriety and self-control all these years?”

Ursuline had no idea that throwing the match against Caleb Hurst would have such serious repercussions and part of him began to regret what he had done.

His brother's face finally softened as he let out a long sigh. “I had to tell them that your loss was intentional. They weren’t pleased about that.”

“What did they say?” he asked weakly.

“Shut your damn mouth.”

“...”

“You should’ve let Caleb show his incompetence… What you did was nothing short of cheating.”

“Then am I to be released from the order?”

Trevor narrowed his eyes at him. “They will overlook your actions as a favor to me and the Marquis. He defended you by insisting that showing mercy to that piece of shit was a noble thing to do.”

Ursuline looked at him, unsure of how to react.

“Do not, ever, do that again, brother. Do you understand?”

He nodded. “I’m sorry for the trouble I caused.”

“And you are not to overindulge in wine.”

“But I was telling the truth...”

Anger reignited in Trevor’s eyes as he lifted his hand to strike him again.

“Sir Trevor,” a tired voice called from the far end of the receiving room.

He paused, then lowered his hand.

“What do you want, Gilbreth?” he asked with irritation, keeping his eyes fixed on Ursuline. “I’m not done with him yet.”

“Pardon me, Sir… I just happened to be passing by and there’s something I should inform you.”

“What?”

“In regards to alcohol, low tolerance is actually a Ricaydo family trait, Milord.”

Trevor scowled, finally turning to look at him.

“Your grandfather and uncles couldn’t drink more than two or three goblets without feeling the unwanted effects. Your brother may very well be telling the truth, Sir.”

He turned his attention back to Ursuline and let a condescending scoff. No word of apology followed; not that Ursuline expected to hear such a thing from him anyway.

“Get up,” Trevor ordered. Then, he walked towards the stairs leading to his chambers. “Just the same, mind your liquor.”

“Shall I cast healing on him now, Sir?” Gilbreth asked.

“No,” he answered sternly. “I want him to feel it so he learns from his newfound weakness. He can figure out an explanation when he shows up for training tomorrow.”

The old mage nodded. “Understood, Sir.”

Trevor ascended the stairs before Gilbreth made his way to Ursuline who was rubbing his jaw.

He shook his head. “I gather things did not go well at the dinner?”

“On the contrary, it did... Father and Trevor got everything they wanted,” Ursuline replied with a wince. “I, even in my pitiful and drunken state, still managed to charm the Parans. You can congratulate me now, Gilbreth… I’ve been successfully sold off for a ridiculously large dowry… I feel like a very expensive whore.”

“Young master! Sir Trevor might hear you!” Gilbreth scolded.

“Ah, I’m drunk, right? Liquor… My newfound weakness, just as he said.” he moaned with a grin. “Even a beating feels different when you’re drunk… I feel like shit, old man. You sure you can’t cast healing on me?”

“I’m sorry, but your brother will know if I did… I don’t care if I get into trouble, but I fear he will just beat you again like he did the last time.”

“You make a good point...”

“Let me at least check your injuries.” Gilbreth placed his hands near Ursuline’s face and abdomen and warm light emanated from his palms. “I don’t detect anything serious, but you will be in pain for at least a few days.”

The old mage motioned for a servant who had been hiding out of sight to help him bring Ursuline to his bedroom. Although it took minimal assistance to help him up the stairs, Gilbreth and the servant exchanged puzzled looks as the usually quiet young man had become uncharacteristically talkative.

He complained about the boredom he had experienced throughout the dinner and how uncomfortable he was during his interactions with the young girl whom he kept referring to as an “ankle-biter.”

“It was the most disturbing thing, Gilbreth… I’m engaged to a child,” Ursuline grimaced. “I don’t think she took her eyes off me even for a second… She stared and smiled at me like a dazed fool. I think the ankle-biter is in love with me already.”

“If she is a child, young master, then she wouldn’t know love from admiration.”

“Perhaps.”

“And it’ll be years before you two actually marry so there is nothing disturbing about your betrothal…”

When they finally set him down, Ursuline let out a series of groans as he crawled to the center of his bed. He was too tired, drowsy, and sore to care about his hygiene or soiled clothes. Gilbreth then proceeded to pull the linens over him.

“She should marry someone else, Gilbreth.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Parans are filthy rich… My family only means to use their wealth… through me. That poor girl doesn’t know what she’s gotten into and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Gilbreth sighed with worry. Indeed, Ursuline was wise for his age, piecing together such details; yet, it was unfortunate that he seemed resigned to his fate as becoming nothing more than Trevor’s future man-at-arms. If only there was something he could do to help him.

In no time, tired, steady breaths could be heard from the figure sprawled on the center of the luxurious bed.

“Rest up, young master. The servants will attend to you tomorrow.”

Chapter Text

Ursuline slowly opened his eyes. He had a dull, yet nauseating headache and a soreness in his jaw. When he sat up from the bed, his entire upper body ached. He looked down and cringed as soon as he saw his clothes and smelled the unpleasant odor on him.

He recalled the events from the night before, from the moment he felt ill at the dinner party all the way to when he received a beating from Trevor. However, everything was hazy after that.

How did I get up here?… Gilbreth helped me. I think.

He struggled as he stood up, worried that he might have overslept and missed his training.

He trudged over to the mirror to look at himself. A purple bruise had formed on one side of his face. There was a blunt pain in his stomach when he turned. Wincing, Ursuline pulled up his tunic and saw the discoloration on his abdomen. The area felt tender even at the slightest touch.

How will I manage to get through training today?...

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and several servants entered with a tub and quickly filled it up with warm water.

“Pardon us, but Gilbreth said to make sure you have your bath, Milord,” a servant informed him. “Please hurry. You’re late... Sir Trevor and the Count are to have breakfast soon.”

Ursuline dismissed the servants with a nod and bathed as quickly as possible. He felt unwell, but couldn’t risk making his brother angry at him again.
When he finished, he rushed to get dressed and made his way to the dining hall where his father and brother were already seated and eating, having a discussion about Ursuline throwing the match against Caleb Hurst and Trevor’s intervention with the knights.

As soon as Count Razvan laid eyes on him, his face twisted.

“Why on earth do you look like that?” he asked sourly. “What have you done now? Explain yourself.”

“I got intoxicated last night,” Ursuline muttered hesitantly.

“Heavens, boy!” the Count gasped. “Is that why you two left right after the dinner?”

He turned to Trevor. “And why didn’t you tell me?”

“There was no need to, Father,” he clicked his tongue. “I took care of it.”

“What were you thinking, Ursuline?!”

“It was unintentional... A few goblets of wine did him in,” Trevor added after sipping his tea. “The old mage informed me that low tolerance runs in the family?… Apparently, grandfather and your brothers all had it.”

“Huh,” Razvan muttered, “Yes, if I recall, that sounds about right… Still, why does he look like this?”

“So he can learn from it.”

Ursuline pressed his lips shut as he sat down and the servants attended to him.

Razvan frowned. “Fetch Gilbreth,” he ordered a servant.

“For what? He’ll live... He’s gone through and felt worse.”

“We can’t send him to the training grounds looking like he was in a brawl after last night. Use that handsome little head of yours… What will the Marquis say, especially since your brother has won his favor?”

“It’ll teach him to think on his feet.”

His father and brother continued their argument as Ursuline sat quietly and closed his eyes. He had no appetite and their voices were making his headache and nausea worse. After a few moments, the servant finally returned with the mage. Razvan had Gilbreth cast healing and recovery on Ursuline, much to Trevor’s disapproval. With his maladies gone, he quickly ate his meal then excused himself.

“Cousin!” a voice called out to him as he exited the carriage in front of the training annex.

“Caleb,” Ursuline acknowledged.

“Congratulations!”

“For what?”

Caleb rolled his eyes. “For officially getting engaged to the only daughter of one of Wedon’s wealthiest?... If you really get into Marquis Paran’s good graces, he might even name you as heir… Forget all of his eager nephews.”

Ursuline glared at the pudgy young man. Caleb was shorter than him by a few inches, with reddish-brown hair andgreen eyes. He looked nothing like the typical Ricaydo male. Not only that, but he was also talkative and incredibly clumsy.

“You broke my arm,” Ursuline informed him nonchalantly, changing the subject.

Caleb’s eyes widened, giving him an incredulous look.

“You really did. Gilbreth said so when he cast healing on me.”

“I didn’t mean to… I just thought it would be better if I put a little effort into making it look believable.”

“I know.”

“Sorry…”

Ursuline shrugged his shoulders. “At least you get to stay.”

“You have my gratitude, cousin. Truly. Did, um…” Caleb bit his lip as if he were afraid to speak his next words. “Did cousin Trevor know?... Was he angry that you lost?”

There was silence until they entered the barracks.

“He did, didn’t he?...”

“I won’t be able to help you like that again,” Ursuline finally replied. “From now on, you have to prove yourself.”

Caleb nodded obediently. “I won’t disappoint you. I promise.”

As the two began changing into their squire’s uniform, a slow clap resounded from the end of the room. Ursuline’s jaw automatically clenched, knowing exactly who it was.

“Well done yesterday, Hurst. Turns out, I was right all along… Ursuline Ricaydo is just one who gives himself airs,” a fellow squire sneered as he sauntered arrogantly towards them. “News of your loss has already spread like wildfire… You’re just an average squire. Actually, less than average since this fat lump bested you. There’s nothing special about you except for your name.”

Ursuline turned to him with a menacing glare.

“Piss off, Cayden,” Caleb hissed.

“Oi, why the acrimony?” he asked, feigning surprise. “I’m only offering you my sincerest adulation… You can stop kissing his ass now, Hurst. Aren’t you proud of yourself?… Of all people, you broke his winning streak.”

Caleb clenched his fists and began to yell obscenities at the young man taunting them. Sensing that he might reveal the truth behind his controversial victory, Ursuline whipped his head towards him with a warning look.

Caleb clamped his mouth shut as Lew Cayden eyed them both incredulously. “Are you still defending this loser?... What are you up to?”

“Shut your mouth,” Ursuline said in a calm and threatening tone. “I may have lost to Caleb, but make no mistake, I will mop you across this floor if you keep talking nonsense.”

Lew’s lips twisted. He wanted to answer with a sharp retort, but the look on Ursuline’s face had rendered him silent.

“Get lost,” Ursuline added. “Unless you want to test me.”

Lew let out a nervous snort before leaving the barracks. “You’ll have your day, Ricaydo.”

“I thought I already did,” he shot back as he watched him turn a corner. “Idiot...”

“Ricaydo,” another voice called to him.

What now? Won’t anyone leave me alone today?

Ursuline glowered at the other squire who approached him. “You’ve come to irritate me as well?”

“What?”

“What do you want?”

“Sir Creed wants to see you this instant. Follow me.”

Ursuline gave Caleb an annoyed look before he left the barracks.

All this hassle for helping you, Caleb… Unbelievable.

When they reached Sir Valerian Creed’s office, Ursuline saw him and five other senior knights standing around the room. The other squire was dismissed, leaving him alone in the open doorway, perturbed as to why he was summoned. His eyes widened when he finally noticed that the Commander of the Royal Knights was seated in the corner of the small room.

“Ursuline Ricaydo,” Commander Sera called in his low voice. “Come inside.”

A chill ran down his spine as Ursuline stepped forward and closed the heavy door behind him. Trevor said that he had resolved the problem last night, but that didn’t seem to be the case. Three senior knights eyed him with contempt, while Commander Sera’s expression was deadpan, along with Sir Creed and two other knights who stood together. Then, Ursuline remembered. Those two were present at his betrothal dinner.

“Do you know why you’re here?”

Ursuline’s throat had become dry the moment he saw him. He swallowed and nodded his head. “I think I do, Sir.”

“We’re at an impasse, you see… Half believe that you should be thrown out of the order for what you did, while the rest think it should be overlooked and take it as a noble act of mercy.”

He hung his head.

“We don’t show mercy to the incompetent in our order. It’s beneath the standards of the Royal Knights…”

“…”

“And I don’t care who vouches for you or what your family name is.”

“I understand, Commander… I am prepared to accept the consequences of my actions,” he replied firmly.

The Commander’s lips curled upward. “Good.”

Ursuline exhaled deeply. Being thrown out of the order would deal an extreme blow to his family’s reputation. He could only imagine how his brother and father would react.

“I am aware of your capabilities… So I’ve decided that the best course of action is to test your true skills. If you pass, we’ll put the issue to rest. Fail and you will be removed from your post as squire immediately.”

He looked up and nodded. He didn’t care what the task was. All that mattered was that he redeemed himself.

“This afternoon, you will defend yourself against four top-ranking squires like yourself,” Commander Sera continued. “You better be prepared.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You are dismissed.”

Ursuline bowed and left the room.

Chapter Text

He had no idea that defending himself meant that he would be taking on four squires simultaneously.

Ursuline felt beads of sweat forming on his back as he took the wooden sword from Sir Creed and walked towards the arena; his armor, limited to a helmet and a breastplate. Four similarly clad figures stood in the center of the arena, but had the advantage of shields.

Claps and cheers erupted when Ursuline came into view of the spectators.

“Ricaydo’s about to get the beating of his life!” he heard someone yell out, followed by laughter.

“Let’s see how good you really are!”

“Now’s a good time to go running to your brother!”

Ursuline ignored the hecklers and assessed the competition before him. He recognized each one, all competent squires who served different knights. As he came closer, Lew Cayden grinned with anticipation before donning his helmet.

“Looks like today’s your day, Ricaydo,” he taunted. “I’ve been waiting for this…”

His words bounced off Ursuline as he steeled himself and put on a defensive stance.

Then, the four squires attacked all at once.

Ursuline tossed his wooden sword to the ground amidst the mix of uproar, hooting and claps from his peers and the Royal Knights.

He had saved the best for last, leaving Lew Cayden unconscious on the ground where a mage was attending to him.

His loss to Caleb Hurst the day before had left plenty of knights questioning his reputation as one of the most promising and skilled among the squires. Even some of his peers were quick to spread rumors that he was not at all adept with a sword, or any weapon, for that matter; that he gained popularity and favor within the order only due to being a Ricaydo.

The surprise exhibition had proved that his skills, speed, and technique were truly impressive for someone his age. In fact, if it weren’t for the squire’s uniform that he donned, Ursuline could easily be mistaken for a seasoned senior knight.

He bowed to the spectators before removing his helmet. Then, he looked to the stands, shielding his eyes from the bright sunlight. To his surprise, Trevor was there and appeared to be in discussion with someone he didn’t quite recognize.

Who is that?

When a large cloud covered the sun, Ursuline was able to get a better view of whom he was speaking with. His eyes widened. It was King Elnuma Reuben III, and next to him was a young lady with long golden hair, dressed in a rose colored gown.

“Princess Agnes?” Ursuline mumbled to himself.

Trevor moved his eyes to him as he continued speaking with the King, then, the three of them descended to the arena. When they reached the entrance, Ursuline walked to meet them halfway.

Ursuline bowed to the royal duo as he politely greeted them.

“It seems that you’ve put an end to all that talk contesting your credibility as one the Royal Knights’ finest trainees, Ursuline.” King Reuben said to him with pride. “Just yesterday, news about a squire’s controversial loss during a sparring match was circulating around court. When I was told that a surprise exhibition would be held to determine his true competence, I just had to come and watch.”

Ursuline smiled politely, hiding his excitement. It was the first time the king had ever addressed him directly.

“Thank you, your Majesty. That means a lot, coming from you.”

The King turned to Trevor. “You must be proud.”

“I am, Your Majesty.”

“Ursuline here may very well be qualified to command the entire Royal Army when the time comes. I can see it… and I’m never wrong about these things.”

The corner of Trevor’s eye twitched before a faint smile appeared on his face.

“It would be an honor for us to have a Ricaydo at the helm of the Royal Knights,” he replied neutrally. “Shall I escort you and the Princess back, Your Highness? Your Kingsguard has been waiting for the last several minutes. It seems that you’re needed.”

King Reuben agreed as he had pressing matters to attend to at Drachium Palace, but before they left, Princess Agnes spoke out, tugging at his sleeve.

“Father, I want this young man to teach me swordsmanship.”

“What did you say, my heart?” the King asked with shock. “Swordsmanship? Are you serious?”

“I’d like to learn how to defend myself.”

“What about all this talk about becoming a mage?…”

“Can’t I do both?” she asked with a pout. “Wouldn’t you be proud if your only daughter could excel in magic and handle a sword?”

Kung Reuben looked at Trevor as if to pass him his daughter’s strange request.

Trevor chuckled softly. “I’m sorry, Your Grace, but Ursuline is not qualified to teach anyone just yet. He’s only a squire, after all. Perhaps one of the Royal Knights can instruct you if your father allows.”

“No,” she replied firmly. “I want him. He’s better than any of the knights I’ve seen.”

Ursuline lowered his head as he felt his cheeks flush.

“Then, how about I provide you with the lessons?” Trevor offered.

Agnes narrowed her eyes at him and paused for a moment. “No.”

“Agnes,” King Reuben chided. “Sir Trevor is an excellent swordsman. Your refusal is impolite.”

“I mean no insult, Sir Trevor, but I’d rather take lessons from him,” she responded, haughtily pointing her chin at Ursuline. “It doesn’t have to be formal lessons… Not yet, anyway. He can just show me basic moves and what not.”

“What do you say?” she asked Ursuline directly.

Ursuline’s head whipped towards the Princess. Then, he looked at Trevor who had an indecipherable expression on his face.

Is he angry again?

“If his Majesty allows it, then how can I refuse you, Your Grace?” he replied. “However, my brother would, indeed, be a much better choice for the task.”

She ignored the last thing he said. “It’s settled then. My guards will make the arrangements… I’m quite busy with magic lessons these next few weeks since my instructor is leaving, but once the replacement mage arrives, we can begin.”

She looked at the King. “Would that be alright, Father?”

“Well…” he sighed, submitting to her demands. “Ursuline here has already shown that he’s an adept and exceptional swordsman… Perhaps some informal lessons would be alright.”

Agnes beamed as she hugged her father and thanked him.

“We must be on our way,” he said to Trevor.

Trevor smiled and turned to Ursuline before he escorted King Reuben and Princess Agnes back to their carriage. In the split-second that he glanced at him, he had already conveyed his threatening message. Do not screw up.

Ursuline watched as they departed the arena, then made his way to the barracks to change his soiled uniform.

He was met with cheers and pats from several squires, while others kept their distance, murmuring to each other. No one dared utter a single insult or unpleasantry to him after what many had just witnessed. He kept a flat expression on his face, but inside, his ego was about to explode.

I just put those four slandering bastards in their proper place… I can’t believe it. That ought to keep them quiet for a while.

Perhaps, swordsmanship and knighthood were truly something he excelled in. He still couldn’t believe his ears that the King himself commended him on his victory. Then, he recalled Gilbreth’s words – he could become his own man if he wished. Ursuline pictured himself mounted on a white steed, leading the highest caliber of knights in all of Wedon into battle. He would be the first Ricaydo to do so.

Suddenly, he took a nervous breath. He remembered the expression on Trevor’s face, the way his eye twitched at the King’s words before acknowledging the honor it would bring their family if Ursuline were ever named Commander. He remembered the look he gave him before the king left.

He rubbed his neck, vexed that, perhaps, he had managed to upset him again although he hadn’t done anything.

Maybe he’s angry that the exhibition happened in the first place.

Chapter Text

Ursuline took deep breaths as he walked towards the dining hall where his father and brother had already begun eating supper. He was mentally preparing himself for the possibly unpleasant evening that was about to unfurl. Although he knew that he hadn’t done anything wrong, knots still formed in his stomach. He had never outshined Trevor in anything until today, and he hadn’t meant to. His anxiety distorted into self-deprecating thoughts.

You, a Commander of the Royal Knights?… Don’t be a fool.

How could you let the King of Wedon think you’re better? You’ll never be like Trevor.

He will always be favored over you. Know your place.

“Young master,” Gilbreth greeted him with a wrinkled smile as he passed through the receiving room. “Congratulations on your victory at the training grounds today.”

Ursuline instantly snapped out of his rumination. “Oh, thank you,” he replied politely.

He paused. “You did it again, Gilbreth…”

The old man cocked his head.

“Had you not intervened last night, I would not have surmounted that fight in my miserable and hung-over state… Fact is, I’d still be held at fault for being inebriated and Father wouldn’t have insisted on you attending to me at breakfast.”

Gilbreth nodded as he smiled bitterly. “Things always have a way of working themselves out.”

“No, it’s because you look out for me… You always do.”

The mage lowered his eyes. “I just happened to be in the right place at the right time… All coincidence.”

“Of course,” he humored him with an awkward chuckle. “Listen, I’d like to tell you more about the match and what happened afterwards later, old man…. For now, duty calls.”

“Ah, yes… Apologies, young master. I wouldn’t want to keep your brother and the Count waiting.”

He stepped aside and Ursuline went on his way. As soon as he entered the dining hall, Trevor’s head turned to him.

“Sit down.”

Ursuline obeyed and quietly sat down as the servants began pouring his drink and putting food on his plate. One of them approached with a decanter of wine, but he covered the goblet with his hand.

Moments passed without Trevor nor his father saying a word. He ate his meal with a flat expression on his face although he was at the point where the silence was becoming unbearable. Ursuline could now feel a bead of sweat forming on his forehead.

“Trevor and I were discussing King Reuben’s sudden visit to the training grounds today.”

His ears perked up.

“Unbelievable how much he spoils that daughter of his… If I had a child like her, she’d have a good slapping to set her straight.”

Ursuline looked at his father from the corner of his eye. Although he had never once laid a hand on him, he had always suspected that he was the one who disciplined Trevor when he was younger.

“I was going to insist that Trevor convince the King that he be the one to give the Princess her lessons instead of you. However, he made a good point.”

Ursuline reeled in the scowl that was forming on his face.

What on earth have you and Trevor concocted now?

“It would be to our family’s advantage if you also gained Elnuma Reuben’s trust and favor by entertaining that pampered brat…”

Ursuline watched him silently.

“As you know, your older brother is to lead our clan in the coming years… We’re just waiting for the right conditions and the perfect opportunity to raise his station. If you get on the King’s good side, you could help widen Trevor’s prospects.”

Ursuline wanted to say something impertinent. If their Father was so desperate for Trevor’s status to be elevated, then he should’ve gotten engaged to Isobel Paran, not him. That would’ve been the perfect solution instead of prostituting him to the crown as well. So what if Trevor was two decades older? Young ladies are married off to older men all the time. There was no doubt that he could charm the Marquis into letting him inherit his title.

“I don’t understand,” Ursuline muttered, casting the rebellious, yet sensible idea aside.

Irritation flashed in Trevor’s eyes and Ursuline instantly regretted opening his mouth.

He took a deep breath to control himself. “I’ll explain it to you in simpler terms.”

Ursuline pursed his lips at his condescending words.

“You winning today’s exhibition made quite an impression on his Highness... He was singing your praises like a fanatic as soon as you knocked out your first opponent… I’ll admit that even you surprised me.”

Ursuline’s head tilted at his unexpected acknowledgement.

“Did you know that you made history?... No squire has ever passed the test the Commander Sera made you undergo. It was meant to punish and humiliate you, yet instead, you showed them what you’re truly capable of,” he continued. “Anyway, the point is that I’m steadily gaining momentum at court, and here you are… garnering the attention of the King with your fighting skills.”

“You’re finally making yourself useful in this family,” the Count chimed back in.

Trevor lightly scoffed at the interruption and set his fork down. Then, he looked intently at Ursuline. “My talents lie in politics and people, while yours, in swordsmanship, martial arts, knighthood… I can’t do it all. I realized that today.”

Ursuline narrowed his eyes, confounded by the comparison.

“You have an important role to play… Imagine a future where I am able to influence the King’s political decisions as his trusted adviser while you control the entire Royal Army as Commander.”

“My sons, standing on each side of the Crown,” Razvan boasted. “Trevor will whisper in the King’s ear and you will carry out his orders.”

“We would be unstoppable, brother.”

Ursuline’s head spun, overwhelmed by what he had just heard.

We?… You. You would be unstoppable.

“I expect nothing but perfection from you here on out.” Trevor continued, his tone bordering on threatening. “You will be the best of the best. You will excel in tactics, planning, and combat; master every weapon there is; and gain the highest honors and recognition bestowed upon a Royal Knight. I will pave the way for you to reach the post of Commander… I will make sure of it.”

Chapter Text

Ursuline sat in one of the lush gardens at Drachium Palace as he waited for Princess Agnes. It had been weeks since she practically demanded that he give her swordsmanship lessons and today would be her first day. He felt a bit tired after a grueling day at the training grounds, but if he were only to show her basic moves with a wooden sword, then it shouldn’t take too long.

Several young ladies had passed through the garden to catch a glimpse of him, giving him coy looks and smiles as they whispered to each other.

Ever since the surprise exhibition at the training grounds, everyone, especially the ladies, seemed to have taken more interest in him. Although he would never openly acknowledge it, Ursuline enjoyed the attention he was getting. After all, the young ladies were amusing and pleasant to look at.

He had never been the type to boldly approach any young woman, but lately, he had the urge to do more than just reciprocate their actions with furtive glances. For the last several weeks, Ursuline had been struggling with the strangest compulsions. Whenever a certain young lady or woman would catch his eye, something would bubble in the pit of his abdomen and his mind would wander towards the dirtiest things. He had a pretty keen idea of what was happening; many of the squires, even Caleb, were all going through it.

They frequently talked about the essential needs of men which many noblewomen their age, or close to their age, would be willing to fulfill with discretion and oftentimes, without any real attachments. He was told that it was an initiation of sorts. Since most of them would end up being tied down to one woman, their very own personal ball-and-chain, once they were of marrying age, apparently, there was no shame in indulging their needs prior to the wedding. Then, there was also the question of who could actually stay faithful to their wives later on. One squire compared marriage to eating the same meal every night for the rest of his life.

Ursuline didn’t want to think of marriage, or his own betrothal, for that matter. He couldn’t stand the thought of being stuck in a loveless, binding contract, even though that was the norm for people like him and Isobel Paran. He didn’t know anyone who married for love. Ironically, that was a luxury that seemed to only be enjoyed by peasants.

Ursuline had spent many a night, laying in bed wrestling with salacious thoughts and waking up in the morning with a pain in his groin, but ever since his engagement to Isobel Paran was formally announced, Trevor had been grilling him about behaving with propriety and the importance of chastity so as to not soil their name and reputation. He also knew that if he ever got caught in some illicit affair, no matter how casual, the consequences would be that his family would have to return the sizable dowry three-fold. That would surely put a damper on Trevor’s funding for his political endeavors as it would practically empty out the family vault.

In reality, Trevor’s wrath alone was enough to remind Ursuline to keep his primal urges in check, but he also prided himself in his self-control.

“Ball and chain,” he mumbled quietly.

Ursuline rested his back on the ivy-lined garden wall and closed his eyes for a moment.

Enough thinking about my life… Nothing will change anyway.

Trevor was already his ball and chain, having to drag around the weight of his self-serving ambitions that he wished he didn’t have to be part of. In a few years, Isobel Paran will be invisibly strapped to his other ankle. Two sizable ball and chains for the rest of his life.

Ursuline shook off the gloomy thought and took deep breaths as he listened to the leaves rustling against the soft breeze. That, and the sound of the chirping birds almost lulled him to sleep until he suddenly heard a faint voice call his name.

His eyes opened immediately, but there was no one there. He sat up and looked around, but there was no sign of Princess Agnes. He sighed with annoyance that his few moments of peace and quiet had been interrupted.

Once again, he heard his name, but the voice was different from that of the stubborn, imposing princess who had commanded him to give her lessons. This voice was small and happy.

He figured that there must be some children playing in the garden. Once in a while, he would see nobles bring their children to visit the palace. However, why did he keep hearing his name? Curious, he cautiously walked to find the source.

As he drew closer, he could make out bits of a rather strange monologue. It sounded like a young girl talking to herself.

“Do you really think I’m beautiful? Well, I believe you to be the most handsome man in all of Loviden… I can’t believe you chose me and I humbly accept your geas. It would be my honor.”

He stopped in his tracks when he saw a familiar figure who giggled as she clumsily danced with an invisible partner.

It was Isobel Paran.

What on earth is she doing?

She looked like an absolute half-wit blabbering about as she pranced around the garden. Still, he couldn’t help but watch. She stopped dancing and sat down on a bench, her back facing him. Then, word for word, she recited the Knight’s Oath. Ursuline was actually impressed for a moment until she let out another giggle.

“What a dolt,” he muttered inwardly.

“You want to get married tonight, you say?” she continued. “Oh, my dearest Ursuline, I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life! I—“

“Ursuline Ricaydo,” a voice spoke from behind him, startling both him and Isobel. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Your Highness,” he gasped, mortified.

“What are you two doing?”

They both turned to Isobel Paran whose gaze was fixed on him before she slowly moved it to Princess Agnes. She had stood up, frozen in place with her face white as a sheet. Suddenly, tears welled in her eyes and she quickly ran off towards the palace.

Ursuline turned away and nervously ran a hand through his hair. “I heard a noise while I was waiting for you and I went to investigate,” he explained. “It was just Marquis Paran’s daughter… in the middle of child’s play.”

Agnes raised an eyebrow. She was about to say something, but instead, pursed her lips and motioned for him to follow her so they could get started.

About an hour had passed since their instruction began. Ursuline felt a little awkward after what the Princess had witnessed, but she acted as if nothing was off. She followed all of his instructions and was grasping the basic concepts that he was teaching rather well. In fact, Ursuline was quite surprised that the Princess was not as delicate and fragile as he had expected. She didn’t get upset or cry when he raised his voice; neither did she complain of being tired or uncomfortable.

When he decided that she had learned enough for the day, she expressed her gratitude to him and looked forward to their next lesson in a week’s time. With that, Ursuline was driven home by the royal carriage. It was already sundown by the time he arrived. He was famished, but was desperate for a bath before he joined his father and brother for dinner.

As he made his way through the corridor leading to his bedroom, one of the maidservants quickly emerged from one of the unoccupied rooms and ran into him. She gasped while the heavy door shut behind her.

“My apologies, Milord,” she quietly whimpered as she hung her head. “I– I didn’t see you there...”

Ursuline was about to scold her for her clumsiness until he noticed the flustered look on her face. She avoided his stern gaze, but he could see tears in her eyes and her flushed cheeks. One of her hands was clutching the top of her dress. Her bonnet was crooked and he could see her obviously disheveled hair underneath it.

His eyes narrowed.

Is the top of her dress torn?

Wordlessly, he nodded and moved aside to let her pass. He watched her quickly descend the stairs as if she were avoiding being seen by anyone.

Trying to shake off the peculiar encounter, he quietly continued on to his bedroom. As he was about to enter, the door where the maidservant had collided with him opened.

Trevor exited the room, adjusting his collar and the front of his trousers.

Ursuline felt a chill down his spine.

No… He couldn’t have.

He held his breath, waiting for him to turn his head, but instead, his brother shut the door quietly and headed down the stairs.

Ursuline stared at the wall as he sat in the tub. He knew he should hurry, but he couldn’t bring himself to move any faster. He would skip dinner altogether if he could.

His thoughts kept going back to the woman from the corridor. Was it shame or fear on her face? Perhaps it was both.

She had cleaned his bedroom several times in the recent months, and he had overheard the head servant say that she had left a sickly husband and a young child in a small town in eastern Wedon to find work. She was too friendly and spoke out of turn on a few occasions to his brother.

She was slender and had a pleasant face. Trevor had made that comment about her once to his friends while drinking in the parlor.

Ursuline had heard stories of nobles having trysts with servants. Trevor was a grown man. Perhaps, it was only natural.

He tried to convince himself that’s what happened. Still, what about all his talk about propriety and honor?

He suddenly remembered an incident when he was a little boy. He was wandering around the halls during a dinner party when he saw his father exit a guest bedroom with a noblewoman. He was fixing his trousers while she smiled as she kissed his face and neck. His mother was still alive at the time.

His throat felt dry at the realization that his father had been unfaithful to his sick mother.

Did he get involved with the servants as well?

Then, he recalled a time when he accompanied a few Royal Knights to the neighboring small towns during a covert mission. He was much younger then and was pretending to be a beggar so he could help spy on their target.

One of the knights who was following him had rescued a commoner woman who was being attacked in an alley.

Torn clothes. That was the first thing he noticed when she was brought to the inn to get treated. She had the same look on her face as the maidservant in the corridor.

Ursuline buried his face in his palm. The stark contrast in the expression on the women’s faces were etched in his memory, along with the sickening look of satisfaction on Trevor’s when he came out of the bedroom. He began to feel queasy, but there was no more delaying the inevitable. He had to come downstairs.

He grabbed the towel nearby and slowly rose from the tub; then, dried himself and got dressed.

Ursuline stared at himself for a long time in the mirror. Sharp features, same eyes, same golden hair, and similar build. Dammit. He really did look like Trevor.

Several thoughts swirled in his mind and anxiety filled him as it all boiled down to one question.

Am I capable of those things too?

His eyes closed and his fists clenched as he shook his head.

He was expected to live like a monk till he was married in the name of trust and honor. He accepted the beatings, his harsh words, and his extreme methods of discipline because he believed that it would all help build his character, make him better. In spite of his cruelty and violence, he had the utmost respect for Trevor because he believed that he held himself to the same standards; perhaps, more so, because of their father’s expectations. But as it turned out, the man who was admired by all for his chivalry and honor, the perfect gentleman, was a fraud, a criminal.

Ursuline let out a long sigh as he wiped the agitated look on his face. Then, he made his way to the dining hall.

Chapter Text

Weeks had passed, but the events that occurred in the corridor were still fresh in Ursuline’s mind. Part of him struggled, hoping that he was mistaken, that his eyes had played tricks on him; but the feeling in his gut told him otherwise. The whole scene was wrong.

On the other hand, Trevor acted as if nothing was amiss. He was strict, domineering, controlling, harsh, and violent, as usual.

Ursuline went through all the motions that were expected of him. He pushed himself harder at training and immersed himself in lessons in politics and his expected duties. Although he didn’t think much of it, everything came easy to him, as if it were second nature.

Handsome, witty, intelligent, skilled. That’s how the nobles of Drachium described him these days. Because of his lineage, Ursuline had always been popular and well-liked in spite of only being a second son, but due to Trevor’s careful plotting and influence, Ursuline was becoming quite the spectacle in the capital.

As expected, King Reuben was growing more fond of Ursuline, ecstatic that Agnes had learned so much from the gifted squire. He now insisted that they continue their now formal lessons until it was time for her to leave for Nornui to begin her training as a mage.

Ursuline had finished another grueling day at the training grounds. The afternoon ended with him sparring with a senior knight, Sir Nathaniel Abell. Although he lost, it was an impressively close match, considering the knight’s strength and skill level.

Before heading home, Sir Abell informed him that he would be leaving for Osirya in a few weeks to participate in the special sword tournament that had been opened even to mercenaries. Ursuline scowled upon learning that the prized bastard sword of Sir Miguel, one of the legendary Twelve Knights of Darian, could possibly fall into the hands of an uncouth honorless brute who only fought if the price was right.

Nathaniel laughed at the young man’s haughty words. Normally, he would scold and discipline any other squire who had the gall to speak in such a way, but he felt that Ursuline had earned the right to voice his protest.

“You ought to come with us,” he suggested. “If you were already a knight, I would even recommend that you participate, but alas, all you can do is watch as we battle it out with the honorless brutes.” The knight chuckled as he rolled his eyes.

“I have no interest in watching mercenaries fight. They’re undisciplined and rowdy. I just hope that a Royal Knight or someone from a respectable order wins. Otherwise, that sword may end up being sold in the blackmarket and a piece of our history will be lost forever.”

“It would be good for you to witness. You’d be surprised by how skilled some of these mercenaries are. You might actually learn something.”

Ursuline shook his head adamantly. “As I said, I’m not interested.”

“You can’t be so stuck-up all the time, Ursuline,” he chided. “First lesson as your mentor… You can be a nobleman and a knight, but carefully tread between the two roles.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nobles will always be prejudiced against those beneath them. Sometimes, we have reason to… but a good knight looks past one’s station to see their true value.”

He took a moment to contemplate what the knight said before nodding his head.

“Wait a minute… New mentor? But I’m Sir Valerian Creed’s squire.”

“Only until I return from the tourney,” Nathaniel replied with a look of surprise. “You weren’t aware? Trevor had you reassigned under my charge.”

“Huh.”

“I’m playing nice now, but I will work you to death, make no mistake about that.”

Ursuline had an inkling as to why Trevor had made the change. Both Nathaniel Abell and Valerian Creed were senior Royal Knights. However, the former was highly decorated, incredibly strict and meticulous, while the latter was more lax and careless.

He nodded before bidding Sir Nathaniel goodbye to get cleaned up before he headed to Drachium Palace for the Princess’ lessons.

He handed Agnes a sword made of steel. Glee filled her eyes as she held it up with two hands and swung it.

“Careful, Your Highness,” he warned. “I just want you to feel the weight… You're not quite ready for that.”

Agnes pouted. “How come you always get to use one at the training grounds?”

Ursuline chuckled inside and tried to sound as humble as possible so she wouldn’t feel insulted. “I’m nearing the end of my squire’s training, Your Grace… I’m at the point where I am allowed to use real weapons, depending on whom it is I am sparring with.”

“Soon to be Sir Ursuline Ricaydo, eh?”

He nodded. “If I do well... in about a year.”

“You’re terrible at trying to sound modest. Everyone knows that you'll be one of the youngest squires to ever be knighted in the history of the Royal Knights."

Ursuline shrugged. "Well, at least I tried."

She took a few steps forward and pointed the metal at his neck.

“Defend yourself,” she said mockingly.

Ursuline glared at her for a moment, then lifted the wooden sword in his hand in a rolling motion. Suddenly, the steel sword flew out of her hands and crashed to the ground. It happened so quickly that Agnes didn’t even see it.

“Well, that was embarrassing,” she chuckled.

She motioned for one of the maids watching them to serve the beverages and snacks.

“I’m tired,” Agnes declared. “Come. Sit and chat with me while we eat.”

Ursuline sighed. He was exhausted, but figured that he could spare a few more moments with the Princess since he wasn’t too excited about going home.

The servants provided them with washbasins and small towels to clean their hands and sweaty faces. Then, the nanny came to tidy up Agnes’ hair and clothes.

“Enough, Nora,” she complained with a wince as her hair was pulled back into a tight bun. “Are you styling or scalping me? I should tell Father about your special talent and maybe he’ll have better use for you in the dungeons.”

Her eyes widened. “Apologies, Your Highness,” the nanny murmured before walking away.

For a young girl, Princess Agnes was rather crass, vocal, and opinionated. Perhaps because she preferred to be around adults, rather than girls her age. She had a maturity about her except when she was pouting or whining to her father who gave in to almost every one of her whims.

“We’re friends, right?” she asked Ursuline as she picked up a sandwich from the table.

“Are we? I’m merely giving you sword lessons, Your Highness.”

She smiled. “Well, I think we should be… I’ve been in your company for months and my father practically trusts you with my life. I’d like to talk about more than just swords and how I’m progressing with my lessons.”

“Alright. What would you like to discuss then, Your Highness?”

“Tell me about yourself… Anything,” she hummed after taking a bite. “And stop calling me Your Highness or Your Grace.”

“Oh, I don’t think I could do that.”

“Well, I don’t like it. It makes me feel old. Aren’t I at least a few years younger than you?”

“That is correct, Your Highness, but even so, you’re still a Princess.”

“Just call me Agnes,” she sighed. “I really won’t mind.”

Ursuline narrowed his eyes. “It would be absolutely impertinent of me to address you so casually, Your Grace.”

“Ugh,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You always follow the rules, don’t you?”

“I was told that rules are what separates us from animals.”

“Meaning that you’re always going to be a stick in the mud?”

“I’m afraid so… Your Highness.”

“Fine. Then just call me Princess,” she grumbled with frustration. “You are exasperating, Ursuline Ricaydo. Maybe I don’t want to be your friend, after all.”

Ursuline stifled a chuckle and soon, Agnes joined him until they were laughing out loud. It was the first time he had laughed in a long while.

The light moment they shared was fleeting as he became guarded as soon as Agnes began asking questions about his family. Ursuline talked about himself, Trevor and the Count, but chose his words carefully.

Satisfied and feeling more at ease, Agnes began to ask him about more personal matters.

“Do you remember our first lesson in the gardens?”

“Yes, I do,” he answered after finishing a cup of tea. “I was surprised that you did so well on your first day.”

“Thank you,” she beamed. “But do you remember what happened before we started the lessons?”

Ursuline swallowed hard. He had hoped that she had forgotten that embarrassing moment.

He nodded. “I’m sorry you had to witness that… I’m sure it was just child’s play. The girl had no idea I was there before you arrived.”

“That girl is your fiancée?”

“Yes. I am betrothed to Isobel Paran.” He replied flatly, although inside, he cringed at his own words.

“What do you think of her?…”

“I’m not sure of what you’re asking me, Princess,” he said with a scowl. “She’s a child.”

Agnes rolled her eyes at him again. “She’s a bit young, but you’re also a young man. Surely, you think a little more of her than just that. She seems to fancy you a lot.”

She playfully repeated Isobel’s words from that day with shocking accuracy. Surprisingly, even Ursuline remembered everything she had said. He wanted to crawl under his seat and disappear.

“Oh, she’s a very lovely girl. No doubt you’ll have a beautiful bride when she grows up. It’s just that she’s a bit strange.”

He cleared his throat. “How so?…”

“She doesn’t play with other children.”

“Neither do you, Princess.”

“Yes, but I’m practically a young woman and I can do as I please,” she snapped. “What I mean is, she seems to prefer the company of the servants.”

Ursuline’s eyebrows curled inward as she motioned for him to come closer. Then she whispered. “I’ve seen her sneaking into the kitchens to help the cooks prepare the meals… They tried to dissuade her, but apparently, she was so adorable and helpful that they didn’t mind having her around.”

“Here?”

Agnes nodded. “Her parents don’t seem to mind either… Apparently, she does the same thing at home. She even helps the servants with menial housework.”

Ursuline didn’t know if he should laugh or be ashamed. Who else knew about Isobel Paran’s unusual hobbies? It was bad enough that she talked to herself and professed her love for him while the Princess watched, but he had no clue how to recover from her peculiar revelation.

As if reading his thoughts, Agnes’ lips curled into a smile as she backed away from him. “Don’t worry… I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thank you,” he murmured, his face slightly blushing. “I just don’t know what to make of it.”

“Think of it this way, Ursuline, if your family ever ran out of money, you’d still have someone willing to cook and clean for you… for a lifetime.”

His face reddened even more.

“I jest!” she giggled. “Calm down, my friend.”

Their conversation was interrupted when a group of knights were seen walking from a distance as they entered the annex where Ursuline and Agnes had trained for the afternoon. Under the setting sun, their silver armor looked more like ash from the heavy dust that covered them while their navy-colored cloaks slightly fluttered from behind. They must’ve come from somewhere far, looking somewhat exhausted as if they'd been riding on horseback for days.

As they came closer, Ursuline noticed the dragon emblem on their pauldrons. The faces of the knights were stern and their large bodies were intimidating.

Agnes stood up.

As soon as a scruffy red-haired man who looked to be in his early twenties saw her, he patted the knight who led their procession on the shoulder to alert him of her presence. Then, they all bowed as the head knight greeted her politely.

Agnes responded with a curtsy, followed by words of acknowledgement towards the leader whom she referred to as Sir Evan Triton. Her movements and speech were smooth and lady-like, contradictory to the tomboyish student that Ursuline had been dealing with for the past months. Finally, the knights continued on their way.

“Who are they?” Ursuline asked with curiosity.

Agnes raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know the Remdragon Knights?”

“Ah...” he replied condescendingly. “That small order from the south composed mainly of low-borns and mercenaries.”

“That only takes orders from the King,” Agnes added as she tilted her chin. “They answer to no other noble house. You have something against them, Ursuline?”

“Not at all,” he scoffed. “It just that–”

“What?”

The corner of his lip twisted. “I think it’s acceptable to have low-borns and commoners join a knighthood, but mercenaries? Can they be trusted? No wonder that order is so small.”

“Well, my father trusts them,” she responded icily.

Ursuline knew that it would be futile to convince her otherwise. More importantly, he wouldn’t dare jeopardize the trust and camaraderie that he was building with her. The best approach would be to end the conversation and let her win.

“Then, pardon my ignorance and consider me enlightened, Princess… I meant no disrespect towards his majesty.”

Chapter Text

Ursuline was eager to leave the house the following morning. He had just sat through a barrage of criticisms from Trevor during breakfast and wanted to vent his frustrations through his sword. He didn’t understand why his brother had gotten even angrier when he refused to say anything to him. When he slapped his face, Ursuline was actually unphased. Shocked by his behavior, even the Count refused for Gilbreth to cast healing on him, leaving the reddish mark on his cheek for everyone to see.

“What happened?” Caleb asked as they walked to the training grounds.

“It’s nothing. I don’t want to talk about it,” he replied.

As he and his fellow squires poured into the benches, there were already knights in the arena sparring against each other. However, they all looked unfamiliar. Ursuline watched them move, noticing that their fighting styles differed from that of the Royal Knights. He then remembered his conversation with Princess Agnes the day before. These men must be the Remdragon Knights.

“Oi,” a jovial voice spoke. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

Ursuline looked at the dark-haired young man standing next to him. He had a lythe build and light amber eyes.

He shrugged with an indifferent expression before scooting over to make room.

“Who are you?” Caleb asked him.

“Gabel Lachzion of the Remdragon Knights,” he replied with a charming smile.

“Are those your knights?” he asked, pointing his finger towards the arena.

“Yes.”

“Which one do you serve?”

“I’m Commander Triton’s squire, but he’s not here. He's meeting with his Majesty at the moment.”

“Remdragon, you say?” Caleb clarified.

“Yes.”

“I just heard your order is to have an impromptu knighting ceremony here in Drachium within the next few days… That’s a bit rushed, isn’t it? No pomps or at least, a week-long banquet?”

Gabel nodded with an embarrassed smile. “You heard correctly… Actually, I’m to be knighted with a few other squires.”

Ursuline and Caleb looked at him with suspicion.

“Aren’t you a little young?”

“And not to mention, kinda small… You must be that good if you’re already to become a full-fledged knight.”

“I’m older than you think… and I may be lythe, but I have my talents,” he answered modestly. “I’ve been mentored by Commander Triton since I was twelve. He’s taught me everything I know.”

“I’m Caleb Hurst, and this right here is Ursuline Ricaydo,” he gushed, nudging Ursuline’s arm. “He’s the best damn squire in the Royal Knights of Drachium! He’s actually my cousin. His father is my mother’s older brother.”

“I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Why are you cursing all of a sudden?” Ursuline asked with annoyance. “And must you tell him everything?”

“Oi, it’s alright… My ears are quite used to profanity,” Gabel chuckled. “And I always love a good story. In fact, I’ve got plenty for you lads if you’re ever interested.”

“About your adventures with the knights?” Caleb’s eyes widened at the invitation. “I’d like that. I’ve heard that your order always gets sent on the most dangerous missions. When do you leave Drachium?”

“As soon as the knighting ceremony is done. We were supposed to just pass through on our way to Osiriya for the tourney, but the Commander thought it would be best to hit two birds with one stone to save us another trip. It’s too bad, really… I was hoping for a larger celebration. Looks like we’ll have to wait until we’re home.”

“You’ve got knights joining that sword competition?” Ursuline asked.

“Aye. Sir Evan Crude and Sir Seth Lombardo,” he answered eagerly. “Oh, and Hebaron Nirtha… Just in time because he’s to be knighted as well. I could introduce you later, if you’d like.”

“That’s a fine idea. I would, indeed, like to meet them,” Caleb agreed. “I’d also like to hear some of your stories… Do you have duties this evening?”

Gabel thought for a second then shook his head. “Ah, I’m afraid I’ll be busy tonight.”

He leaned towards Caleb and Ursuline.

“I'm free of any duties, but Hebaron and I will be accompanying some of the knights to an exclusive brothel outside of the city,” he whispered. “It’ll be my first time to… you know…”

Caleb’s mouth fell open. “You scoundrel! Are you even old enough to be visiting such places?!”

“I told you… I’m older than I look,” he snorted. “In any case, my age is irrelevant… After tonight, I’ll be a man.”

He and Caleb laughed together mischievously.

“Then perhaps my cousin and I could come along?” Caleb inquired, “I’ve never been to one… Why is it exclusive?”

“They have the most beautiful women in all of Wedon and cater to the wealthy by being discreet. At least, that’s according to Hebaron…”

Ursuline eyed the slender young man.

How could a few lowly knights and squires from such a small order afford to go to this so-called exclusive brothel?

As if he had read Ursuline’s mind, Gabel cleared his throat. “We just completed a special assignment in Dristan that offered a hefty pay-out and Hebaron has been kind enough to cover my fee… Says it’s my congratulatory gift.”

“Oh, expense is no problem for us,” Caleb grinned.

“Alright,” Gabel finally agreed, “As long as it won’t cause any trouble, I don’t see why not. I’ll ask the kni—“

“What’s wrong with you?” Ursuline hissed as he grabbed Caleb by the collar. “How reckless can you be? After what I had to endure for helping you, and now, Trevor breathing down my neck, this is how you repay me?... By going to some filthy brothel and risk getting caught?!”

Seeing the shock in Caleb and Gabel’s eyes, Ursuline let go of him.

He had acted and sounded just like Trevor at that moment.

He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Easy there, lad,” Gabel sighed with concern. “I’m sorry if you found the topic upsetting.”

“It’s not that. You know what… forget it.”

“I gather your morning must’ve had a rough start? Does that welt on your face have something to do with it?”

Ursuline turned his head away, surprised that the easy going young man was quite inquisitive. “It’s… none of your business.”

“Lachzion.”

The three of them whipped their heads towards a red-haired giant who had a sizable claymore resting on one shoulder.

“Is there a problem here?”

“Not at all. I’m trying to make some new friends,” he replied with a sly smile. “How’d it go with that woman from the tavern last night?…”

“How do you think?” he replied with a grin. “We wore each other out till I fell asleep with my face nuzzled against her soft and creamy breasts. It felt like I was resting on clouds. Best sleep I’ve had in months.”

Ursuline grimaced at his brazen vulgarity.

Only a mercenary would speak in such a way.

“Gentlemen, this is Hebaron Nirtha, self-proclaimed ladies man of the Remdragon Knights, and may I add, one of our best and strongest.”

“Self-proclaimed?… The number of women I’ve already bedded in my tender age speaks for itself.”

“Well then, prepare to be outdone by me in the near future.”

“Dream on, Lachzion,” Hebaron chuckled dismissively before moving his eyes to Ursuline and Caleb.

“Pleased to meet you.”

“Hello, Hebaron,” Caleb greeted with enthusiasm. “You’re a squire?! I don’t believe it! A man of your size?!... You’re built like a monster!”

“Monster?... Aren’t you direct,” Hebaron responded sarcastically. “And you’re built like a fattened goat. How’d you get to be a squire?”

Caleb’s cheeks turned red with embarrassment while Ursuline glowered at Hebaron.

“Ah, I jest!” he sniggered. “Don’t be so sensitive, Tubby! I know plenty of men who once looked like fat pieces of shit, just like you, but with focus and hard work, they turned out alright.”

The young man smiled and scratched his head at his insulting, yet encouraging words. “Th-that’s good to know, Hebaron.”

“And who is this ray of sunshine?” he said to the stern-faced Ursuline. “Do you ever smile?”

“Leave him alone,” Gabel chided gently.

“I’ll ask you the same question you asked him… How did you get to be a squire?” Ursuline questioned sourly. “You have the disposition of an oaf.”

“Ursuline…” Caleb whispered nervously. “You’re being rude.”

“Used to be a mercenary, but I’m to be knighted while we’re here.”

“Mercenary… That explains it.”

“That’s right,” Hebaron simply shrugged at Ursuline’s remark. “Well, I just wanted to see what the ruckus was about. I thought this one was about to get violent.”

“You better stop talking and join the training, Lachzion,” he warned before turning to walk away. “Goodbye, Surly… Tubby.”

“My name is Ursuline Ricaydo and his, Caleb Hurst,” he sneered. “And isn’t it a little early for ridicule and name-calling? You truly are a rumbling oaf.”

Hebaron clicked his tongue. “Ah, still a squire and already a hard-ass…” He turned again to face him.

Ursuline stared at him with disdain.

“You find my humor and jests offensive, yet you’re the one who blatantly insults me… Typical of a stuck-up noble brat.”

“Ricaydo, you say?” he continued. “So you’re that straight-laced, overbearing so-called prodigy that Sir Creed was talking about this morning. I should’ve known by the grouchy look on your face.”

Ursuline’s brows curled inward. “How dare you… And why would my mentor ever want to be associated with you?”

“Relax boy, he challenged me to a sparring match is all,” he replied with a smirk. “He had plenty of nice things to say about you, talking about how I’m rubbish compared to you because my father is a fallen-noble.”

Ursuline’s face twisted at the uncalled for, yet interesting revelation.

“He kept flapping his mouth until I beat his ass… right over there.” Hebaron pointed to a specific area of the arena.

“You lie,” Ursuline spat.

“I have no reason to… But you better find yourself a new mentor,” he pushed. “You won’t learn anything from that one except how to talk trash.”

“He’s to be reassigned to Sir Nathaniel Abell,” Caleb interjected.

“Ah… another hard-ass,” Hebaron sighed. “Though I gotta admit that he’s actually a decent fighter. We’ve crossed swords on occasion before I even joined the Remdragon Knights. Now he is one actually worth sparring with!”

“I’ll have you know that I almost beat Sir Abell yesterday.”

“Really?” Hebaron asked, scratching his short beard. “A squire your size almost besting Nathaniel Abell?… I don't believe you. He’s the best knight you’ve got. I’ll say even better than your Commander.”

Caleb gasped at his bold statement.

“Then why don’t you spar with me and find out?” Ursuline responded arrogantly.

Gabel and Caleb listened to them with amusement.

Hebaron raised an eyebrow. “You’ve got spunk. I like you.”

“Too bad… I don’t like you.”

The red-haired giant’s eyes widened at his smug answer.

“Well?...”

“As tempting as that sounds, I’ll have to decline… Look at our size difference. It would be… unfair.”

Ursuline stood up. “What’s the matter, are you afraid you might actually lose? Seems to me that your mouth is bigger than that claymore you’re holding, Nirtha… If I’m wrong, then teach me a lesson.”

Gabel wiped his brow and bit his lip at his blatant hostility. “Wow.”

His audacious words seemed to have finally hit a nerve. Hebaron firmly pressed his lips together and took a deep breath before responding.

“I’m already on our Commander’s last nerve for ruffling some of the nobles’ feathers at last night’s dinner… Although it would be absolutely gratifying to beat the living daylights out of an arrogant turd like you, I was told to be on my best behavior for the remainder of our stay.”

“Best behavior? You?” Ursuline snorted. "More lies."

“I ought to just slap you… Maybe I can get away with that much.”

“I dare you to try.”

“But then again, it looks like someone beat me to it. Who did you annoy today with your shining personality?”

Ursuline’s eyes narrowed into slits. He really did not like the burly man standing in front of him.

Hebaron let out a frustrated growl before taking another deep breath. Then, he offered a genuine smile to let bygones be bygones.

“Perhaps, a match between you and Gabel Lachzion would be a better alternative… Based on what I’ve heard, you are pretty good… I suppose.”

“I am more than good, you over-grown lout.”

“He is! He really is!” Caleb concurred. “Ursuline is our best squire!”

“Alright,” Hebaron rolled his eyes at his hubris. “So how about a beat-down between the best squire of the Royal Army and the second best squire of the Remdragon Knights…”

Gabel closed his eyes as he shook his head at Hebaron. “You truly have no talent for words, my friend. Your vocabulary is a disgrace. That was lousy.”

“Fine… fine… I’ll give it another go."

"Yes, please," Gabel smirked.

Hebaron throught for a moment before his face lit up and he pointed a finger in the air. "A face-off between the best squire of the Royal Army against the smooth-talking wunderkind of the Remdragon Knights.”

“Much better. I like it,” Gabel smiled with approval as he stroked his chin. “It has a nice ring to it.”

He turned to Ursuline. “I wouldn’t mind a little competition. What say you?... Any weapon of your choice. Just for fun.”

“Don’t let Lachzion’s size fool you,” Hebaron added. “He’s slim, but this lazy little shit is deadly. You better be as good as you claim to be, Ursuline Ricaydo.”

“Lazy little shit?”

“You heard me.”

“What a way to ruin a perfectly good and enticing invitation after you had phrased it so well.”

“Shut up. You’re lazy and you know it.”

Ursuline’s face morphed to a look of confusion at the sudden turn in their conversation.

“Oh, come off it!” Gabel protested. “How many times must I explain that it took me forever to get the horses settled before I could unsaddle them yesterday? If you or Elliot had stayed with me, then we would’ve finished earlier and I would’ve run the errand for the Commander. I was late, that’s why he sent you!”

“Aw, bollocks!” Hebaron jeered, “You took your sweet time purposely to avoid the task, you sneaky silver-tongued bastard… Always so quick to think of a way to butter up the Captain so you get away with all sorts of shit. You are the king of excuses.”

“I don’t even know why you’re complaining… Had you not gone on that errand, then you wouldn’t have seen the tavern… Hence, you wouldn’t have met that woman that you spent the night with!”

“Ah, shit. Don’t try to talk circles around me. I’m not an idiot.“

“No, you’re just a lecher—“

“Says the virgin who’s itching to go to the brothel—“

The two continued their argument as Caleb and Ursuline quietly left to join their peers to start their training exercises.

“I kind of wish I was with the Remdragon Knights…” Caleb muttered with admiration. “Look how comfortable they are with each other… I bet they treat everyone the same, not like here.”

“Maybe if you get expelled this time, then you can join them for real,” Ursuline snarled. “Brothels? Really, Caleb?”

“…”

“Oi, Ricaydo! So how about that sparring match?” Gabel yelled from a distance.

Ursuline turned to him, but kept walking backwards. “Have your knights take it up with my superiors! I’ll take on either one of you… or both!”

“You cocky little twat!” Hebaron yelled back. He quickly clamped his mouth shut as soon as everyone turned to him.

Chapter Text

“Weapon of choice?” A Royal Knight asked Ursuline.

“Sword.”

He turned to Gabel. “And you?”

“Spear.”

Both Ursuline and Gabel donned their helmets as two younger squires walked to the center of the arena to hand them their respective weapons and shields.

“We’ll uphold the basic rules. Fight with honor. First one to yield will be the loser. You may begin.”

The knight promptly returned to the stands before another knight whistled to signal the start of the match. The sun was high and the stadium grew quiet as the two of them began to circle each other, clutching their shields and weapons with heightened senses.

Gabel made the first move and attacked head on, but Ursuline was quick to evade it and counter with his sword. To his surprise, Gabel spun and pushed the sword away with his shield in a swift movement.

With his mouth hidden behind the shield, he grinned. “Not bad at all, Ricaydo... I knew you weren’t all talk.”

Ursuline attacked again. This time, he almost cut Gabel’s arm.

Shouts erupted from the stands along with clapping.

“Get him, Ursuline!”

“Keep your guard up, Lachzion!”

“End this quickly!”

“Show them who’s superior!”

Gabel returned with an impressive combination of movements that caused Ursuline to back into the arena wall. Due to his smaller frame, his attacks were not as powerful, but his speed was no doubt ferocious.

He grinned again. “Gotcha.”

Ursuline gritted his teeth. It was only then that he felt a slight sting on the side of his thigh. He looked down for a split-second and noticed a tear on the exposed cloth of his trousers.

Displeased that he was the first to get injured, he matched Gabel’s speed and swung his sword in different directions. Gabel carefully blocked and parried each attack using his shield and spear, but with difficulty as Ursuline had put his weight in each swing. Finally, the tip of his sword grazed the slender squire’s cheek.

A thin line of blood trickled down to his chin.

“Watch the face! The ladies happen to like it!” Gabel’s voice sounded light, but there was a tinge of vexation in his tone.

“You talk too much,” Ursuline growled.

Gabel’s expression hardened, suddenly dropping his shield as the two of them raced towards each other.

Once again, the spectators broke out into shouts and cheers, ecstatic that the match had suddenly become very intense. Minutes passed and neither squire was showing any signs of fatigue as they relentlessly attacked each other.

There was a fascinating difference between their fighting styles. Ursuline skillfully used his sword and shield with quick and calculated precision to attack and defend, while Gabel looked more like he was engaged in a deadly dance. Without a shield on hand, he used his spear to both attack and block; jabbing, stabbing, twirling and spinning it with one or both hands, and even planting it on the ground to catapult a kick towards Ursuline which almost knocked him down.

He had never seen a squire move so adeptly with a spear and Ursuline was almost tempted to watch rather than fight Gabel.

After a long moment, the two of them broke away, finally feeling winded.

“Boo!” someone shouted from the stands. “Finish him already!”

Unsure of who the heckler was, Ursuline looked up. His eyes slightly widened when he saw King Reuben present. Next to him Princess Agnes clapped excitedly, and next to her was Isobel Paran who was nervously clutching the side of her dress with one hand while covering her mouth with the other.

What is she doing here?

Suddenly, Ursuline felt his legs get swept from underneath him. As he fell hard, his eyes were still fixed on Isobel who had turned pale as she screamed with fright. He turned to Gabel who was now pointing the tip of the spear to his face as he lay on the ground.

“Looks like I won... Say it.”

He took a second to catch his breath. “Not quite…”

Ursuline clenched his jaw and grabbed the spear with all his might, pulling Gabel down towards him. Then, in a flash, he jumped to his feet and smashed the hilt of his sword onto Gabel’s mouth.

The small stadium went wild at his comeback.

“Fuck, Ursuline!” he groaned, taking several quick steps back. “I said not the face!… I had you already!”

“I didn’t say ‘yield.’” he replied with a smirk.

Gabel spat out blood before angrily charging towards Ursuline. The two met in the center of the arena and exchanged vicious attacks. At this point, they appeared to be equally matched.

After a long battle, the two squires finally stopped when they each had a weapon pointed at the other. However, Gabel was at a disadvantage. It was the blunt end of his spear that was resting on Ursuline’s neck, while Ursuline’s sword blade was only a hair away from slicing his face.

Ha looked at the steel sword from the corner of his eye. “Dammit…” Gabel sighed. “I yield.”

Without an adequate mage for his order, he was unwilling to risk having an unsightly scar on his handsome face, especially after the prostitutes at the brothel had complimented it so much.

“The winner is Ursuline Ricaydo!” Sir Creed declared in the midst of the cheers and boos.

Ursuline looked up at the stands again and saw the King clapping proudly as the Princess raised her fists in the air with excitement. He smiled and bowed to them. As soon as his eyes moved to Isobel Paran, he frowned. The young girl was looking at him again like a dazed fool.

The last time he saw her was when he caught her talking to herself in the gardens. Seeing the displeasure on his face, she bowed her head and turned away.

The spectators quickly exited the stands to return to their training exercises before the day ended. Feeling somewhat remorseful, Ursuline walked over to Gabel who was sitting on a bench, still spitting up some blood.

“Are you okay?”

“I’ll live,” he answered tersely, obviously still annoyed by his facial injury.

“Where’s your mage?”

“We don’t have one,” Gabel replied. “And, coincidentally, neither do the Royal Knights presently.”

Ursuline pursed his lips. There were usually at least three mages or healers in the infirmary during training hours. He hated to think that his order was petty enough to send them away to avoid providing aid to their unsophisticated visitors.

He suddenly remembered Sir Abell’s advice- a good knight looks past one’s station to see their true value.

Gabel Lachzion was an excellent fighter, way better than any of the other squires he had ever encountered. He was even convinced that had Gabel not chosen a spear, their match would’ve ended differently; at least, in a draw.

He watched the young man who carefully patted his bruised face with a handkerchief.

“I just hope you didn’t do any permanent damage to my face, Ursuline Ricaydo… My loins depend on it. Quite literally.” he groaned. “Fuck, that hurt.”

Ursuline laughed.

This fool must’ve gone to the brothel after all.

“Oi, he laughs?” Gabel asked, genuinely stunned as if he had heard a strange noise.

“Come with me after training is over. I’ll have my family's mage take a look at you.”

His eyes widened. “You’d actually help me?”

He cocked his head back. “Why not?”

Ursuline, Gabel and Caleb exited the carriage and made their way up the steps of his home.

“Please fetch Gilbreth,” Ursuline ordered one of the servants who was standing by the entrance.

“Yes, Milord,” a woman answered.

He watched her for a moment as she walked away. It was the same woman who had bumped into him in the corridor.

As she headed for the hallway, she passed Trevor who was heading towards them. The woman hunched her shoulders and looked down while he glanced at her with a smile on his face. When he saw Ursuline with his guests, his face turned grim.

“What is this?” he asked. “I wasn’t expecting any visitors tonight.”

“My apologies, brother,” Ursuline replied politely. “This is Gabel Lachzion… I offered him Gilbreth’s assistance since I caused his injuries.”

Trevor condescendingly eyed Gabel from top to bottom.

“This is my older brother, Sir Trevor Ricaydo. He’s a senior Royal Knight.”

“You two sure look alike,” Gabel remarked, “Thank you for your help this evening, Sir Trevor, although I do apologize for the intrusion.”

“I’ve not provided anything,” Trevor replied plainly. “And since when did you start entertaining rubbish, Ursuline?”

Gabel’s eyes twitched at the direct insult.

“Brother…” he said quietly, “I won the sparring match against Gabel today. He actually is a squire for the Remdragon Knights.”

“Hmph… More rubbish,” he spewed before he turned his attention to Caleb. “I didn’t realize that Ursuline had been keeping such inferior company as of late. You, Caleb Hurst… with your recent antics, you have no idea how relieved I am that you do not carry the Ricaydo name.”

Caleb hung his head.

Trevor looked at Ursuline again. “Be mindful of who you bring into our home… Take care of his injuries and send them both away quickly.”

Ursuline nodded then Trevor headed for the stables without another word, not even sparing Gabel or Caleb a second look.

As soon as Gilbreth cast healing on Gabel, they headed back to the carriage.

“Oi, what about your leg?” Gabel asked. “Aren’t you going to have the old man take a look at it?”

Ursuline looked at him incredulously. “You merely scratched me.”

Gabel clicked his tongue. “Well, pardon me for leaving you practically unscathed,” he chuckled sarcastically. “How about your head?”

“I landed on my back… You can stop worrying about me.” he replied with a smirk.

Gabel raised his hands in surrender. “If you say so.”

“I apologize for what happened back there… Had I known how my brother would react, I would’ve made other arrangements.”

“It’s alright,” Gabel smiled. “I’m used to nobles talking down to me. In truth, it is you who shocked me by even offering to help. I’m sure I would have managed to find a mage somewhere here in the capital, but I do appreciate the kind gesture… I hope to return the favor one day.”

“It’s fine,” Ursuline shrugged.

“The Royal Knights aren’t always so… gracious… to low-borns like me,” he added. “It’s nice to know there are lads here like you and Tubby.”

“Hey!” Caleb protested. “I’ll lose the baby fat, just you wait.”

“I’m kidding… I’m kidding, Caleb Hurst…”

“I’ll have the carriage take you back to the Palace on the way to Caleb’s.”

“No need. I’m feeling much better and wouldn’t mind taking in the sights. I’ll walk.”

“Won’t you get in trouble for returning so late? Your knighting ceremony is tomorrow.”

“Now, don’t forget, gentlemen…” Gabel cocked his head with a grin. “They don’t call me silver-tongued for nothing.”

“Right,” Ursuline replied with a faint smile.

“Well, good meeting you lads,” he said, extending his hand.

Caleb was the first to shake it. “Best of luck, Gabel Lachzion. Congratulations on your knighthood… Till next time.”

Gabel nodded as he watched him enter the carriage. With a crack of the coachman’s whip the horses trotted out of the Ricaydo estate.

“Well, too bad you won’t be watching the tourney,” he said to Ursuline. “We could’ve gotten better acquainted then, and you didn’t even get a chance to meet Elliot.”

“Who?”

“Elliot Charon. One of the other squires they brought besides me and Hebaron. Nice lad... You’d like him.”

“Maybe next time.”

Ursuline extended his hand. “Well, you truly are formidable, Gabel Lachzion. That was quite a match. Congratulations on your knighthood… I’m sure you won’t disappoint.”

“Glad to have met your expectations, though, I must admit, your speed is something else… You’ll make an excellent Royal Knight.”

Another faint smile appeared on Ursuline’s face in acknowledgment. “I guess that red-haired brute was right to suggest that we spar instead.”

They shook hands firmly and patted each other’s arm.

“I’ll be sure to pass on your gratitude to Hebaron,” Gabel replied with a wink.

“Don’t. I’m not particularly… fond of him.”

“He may come off unpolished because he likes to jest, but he’s a good man,” he chuckled. “Anyway, I hope to do it again. I’ll be sure to wear a full helmet next time… Gotta protect this face from you.”

Ursuline chuckled slightly.

“Oi, so you really do laugh. You should do it more often… Good for the soul.” Gabel tapped his forehead before turning to leave. “Farewell, my new friend.”

“Goodbye… Friend.”

It was a word that Ursuline seldom used. In truth, he didn’t really have any. He knew every noble young man in Drachium, made small talk and was civil with almost all of them due to his name and reputation, but their way of life prompted him to always be guarded. Ursuline found it hard to trust anyone, not even his own family.

It was strange that it felt natural to call Gabel Lachzion a friend, a low-born whom he had only known briefly and belonged to an order that he thought inferior.

Ursuline sighed. It was best that he didn’t form any attachments as it was unlikely that they would cross paths again in such an affable manner. The only thing he should take away from meeting the squire was that he needed to train even harder and gain mastery of all weapons. He couldn’t afford to slip up again in the future.

Chapter Text

The training grounds had been buzzing for days with talks of an unknown mercenary winning the sword tournament in Osiriya. The winner was said to be a young man of foreign blood who had no formal sword training. Plenty of knights voiced their disapproval and shame that a classless outsider now had ownership of the much coveted sword of Sir Miguel.

“It’s been weeks… Your Highness.”

“Did you already forget that I dislike you calling me that?”

“Of course not, Your Grace,” Ursuline replied sarcastically with a flat expression.

“You’re such a child, Ursuline Ricaydo,” Agnes whined.

He let out a soft chuckle, pleased that he had managed to irritate the Princess. The jest was a way to get her worked up as part of her next phase of training. Since she had shown significant progress with a sword, it was time to incorporate lessons in mastery of emotions during a fight.

“Let’s warm up, then see how much you’ve retained.”

Ursuline talked Agnes through the exercises before they began to spar.

“You should’ve come to see the tourney, Ursuline. The Royal Knights were amazing, especially Sir Abell,” she muttered as she panted.

“Not amazing enough, apparently…”

She stopped her movements and stood up straight. “Oh, goodness, you’re absolutely right!” she exclaimed. “That Riftan Calypse put everyone in that tournament to shame! Father said he’d never seen anyone fight like he did. It was so… natural.”

So that’s his name.

Suddenly, Agnes dropped her wooden sword to the ground.

Ursuline furrowed his eyebrows. “Princess, from the looks of it, you’ve managed to forget some basic principles in the several weeks that you were away. Please, pick up your sword so we don’t waste time. My goal is for you to master the next lesson before you leave for Nornui.”

Agnes scrunched her nose.

“Wait! I’ve got a secret to tell you,” she whispered eagerly, ignoring his words. “Come closer so no one hears.”

He sighed with annoyance before walking to her. What kind of gossip is she going to share this time? More strange antics by Isobel Paran? Whatever it was, he wasn’t interested, but he knew it would be rude to decline.

Ursuline walked up to her and bent down. Then, he planted the wooden sword on the ground to lean on it. “What is it?”

She stepped forward and began whispering into his ear. “Isn’t that exciting?!” she finished.

“Huh,” he deadpanned. “So the King insisted that the winner be recruited by the Remdragon Knights. What other order would take him anyway?”

“Oh, stop… You’re making it sound petty.”

“If he was that good, then the recruitment isn’t exactly a surprise. It would be a shame to lose him to another country… but if he’s a mercenary, who knows if he’ll defect for the right price.”

“Do you not have a single unsuspicious bone in your body?…" Agnes grumbled. "And keep your voice down. I said it was a secret!”

“It won't be a secret for long, Princess… News travels fast around Drachium. You know this.”

“Well, in any case, I thought you’d be happy to know about it.”

“About the mercenary winning or his recruitment?” Ursuline asked, raising an eyebrow. “Why on earth would you think that?”

Agnes rolled her eyes. “I’m told that you befriended that squire from the Remdragon Knights. The one you sparred with? I met him in Balbourne, you know. Now, you’ll have a chance to meet Riftan Calypse and perhaps he’ll be your friend as well.”

Ursuline rolled his eyes right back at her. “I don’t get along well with mercenaries so I highly doubt it… If you also met that red-haired menace, Hebaron Nirtha, you’d understand exactly why.”

“I did meet him. He was rather gallant, although unrefined,” she chuckled. “You’re just too uptight for your own good, my friend.”

That word again…

Ursuline’s thoughts wandered for a moment. Had he really become friends with the Princess? In a sense, he felt more at ease around her now; and, although she was a few years younger than he, they seemed to have the same level of maturity. Also, he liked that she was intelligent, observant, and gifted.

“Speaking of sparring,” she mumbled with a grin. “Isobel Paran was most impressed with you!”

“Ugh… Please, stop,” he groaned with a shake of his head.

“She nearly talked my ear off with all your compliments before Father, Elias, and I left for Osiriya. ‘Ursuline this, Ursuline that’… Although the poor girl almost fainted when you fell down.” Agnes frowned when she noticed that grimace on his face. “You’re an awful fiancée, you know that? What has she ever done to you?... Isobel is actually the sweetest girl once you get to know her better. She’ll make for you a wonderful wife… She has this innate kindness that’s unique to someone of her status.”

She twisted her full lips as she emphasized her next words. “I think it would do you some good to try and be around her.”

His mouth slightly fell at her veiled criticism. “So you two are friends now?” he asked sardonically, “Tell me, Princess… Did she clean the entire palace for you and cook you a feast?”

“You brute,” she rebuked him. “Don’t poke fun at her… I already feel bad that I ever did.”

Ursuline cringed. “I’m uncomfortable with how that girl acts around me. If I want someone who’d do nothing but stare, then I might as well buy myself a statue. It won’t talk and it won’t smile.”

“Oh, spare me your useless whining… Like you’re not used to girls and women staring at you by now, swooning, or losing their minds at the sight of Ursuline Ricaydo?” she teased, her hands moving in a flourish. “The only reason they’re not all over you like ants on forbidden fruit is because you’re so darn surly.”

“I am not. And… it’s different with Isobel Paran,” he muttered. “She’s a child.”

“She and I are practically the same age! And she has all the right to stare at you until you’re etched into her eyeballs. She is the one that you’ll be marrying, after all, so you might as well get used to it.”

“...”

“She thinks you’re so handsome…” Agnes laughed before she reached up and fluffed his hair. “I think she blushed all the way to the tips of her toes when I told her that you two would have beautiful children.”

“Heavens!” he gasped as if he’d been violated. “Why would you say that to her?!”

“Are you daft?” Agnes spat. “Once you two marry, what do you think will happen next? Of course, you’ll be expected to have children!”

Ursuline pursed his lips as he shuddered ever so slightly.

Ever since the day he saw Trevor and that maid in the corridor, something changed in him that he couldn’t quite figure out, but at that very moment, the thought of him being responsible for bringing another Ricaydo into the world somehow frightened him.

He couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to raise a child. Would he manage to do better than his father? Or rather, his brother? Would the child turn out to be just like him?

Seeing the bewildered look on his face, Agnes scoffed, “My goodness, I can’t believe the effect she has on you. You react to her as if she is your own personal plague…”

“What are you talking about?” he asked with a heavier scowl as he snapped back to his senses.

“I have never seen you so put-off by anyone.”

Get a hold of yourself, Ursuline.

“Fine. I’ll not mention her anymore… You’ll get better acquainted in due time.”

“Let’s just continue with the lessons, shall we?” he sighed, steering away from the subject.

Agnes nodded and picked up her sword.

The irony.

Today’s intended lesson was for the Princess to learn to control her emotions, and yet, he had failed it himself at the mere mention of his betrothed.

As he and Agnes continued sparring, he had a realization. It wasn’t Isobel Paran, per se, who irked him because of her age or her inability to hide her infatuation with him; but rather, the thought of having to marry her out of obligation. It made him wonder what he would be missing out on in life.

Why couldn’t he live like Trevor and be a bachelor for as long as he wanted to? Couldn’t they have acquired the funds he needed for his political aspirations without Ursuline having to shoulder the burden of taking a wife? He was gaining prominence among the nobles and proving his worth through his own merit yet still, he is to become nothing more than his brother’s man-at-arms.

Chapter Text

Ursuline had spent the last several months away on missions and expeditions with Sir Abell as part of the last phase of his training.

Due to his reputation for being diligent, he was given more responsibilities than the average squire, and each mission tested his limits and further broadened his knowledge and skills in combat and leadership. It was no exaggeration… Since being reassigned to Sir Abell, Ursuline had never worked so hard in his entire life. However, he understood that the experience would be for his own benefit if he were to ascend the ranks quickly in the Royal Army.

That evening, he had been summoned to attend a strategy meeting. He sat towards the front and listened to Sir Abell as he reviewed the plans for a monster raid. Due to the sudden increase in sightings and attacks at the Wedon-Livadon border, some of the Royal Knights would have to go clear the area, and Ursuline had been selected to participate along with a few other squires.

“Sir Valerian Creed will take his men and head north where he will meet with the Volose Knights. They’ve agreed to make this a joint operation to favor both sides,” Sir Abell stated. “I will take my company and head east with the Remdragon Knights that have been sent to assist.”

Ursuline’s ears perked up.

“How many of you are there exactly?” Abell asked as his eyes moved towards the back of the tent. “According to Sir Creed, only five of you entered the camp.”

“Five,” a deep familiar voice answered.

“I beg your pardon?... Five?”

“Two knights, myself included, two squires, and a mage.”

All heads turned toward the direction of the voice followed by whispers.

An empty chuckle escaped Abell’s lips. “I’m taking eighty of our men on this raid…” His tone was calm, but the irritation in his voice was obvious. “Why did Commander Triton only send five of you?”

Another familiar voice spoke. “The Remdragon Knights were sent to Croix at the King’s behest which preceded your request for assistance, Sir Abell. However, I can assure you… you’ll have more than adequate help even with just the five of us.”

“That sounds incredibly pompous, Sir Lachzion.”

“I don’t mean to sound arrogant, but we’re all very familiar with the monsters that roam the area. In fact, you could even say that we have an expert among us.”

“Is that so?...” he asked with a smirk.

“Commander Triton made sure to send you the most qualified men that he could spare for this mission,” Gabel replied politely. “We may be few, but we are up to the task.”

More whispers followed with jeers and mockery over Gabel’s statement.

Ursuline leaned to the right to get a better look of the men seated in the back. As if sensing his gaze, Gabel turned his head towards him and nodded. Next to him was Hebaron Nirtha who sat languidly with his arms folded across his chest, not seeming to care about the chatter going around them. Two tall, lofty men sat behind them wearing the same silvery armor. Both were intimidating in size considering they were, apparently, just squires. The one sitting upright who looked around uneasily had sandy brown hair, while the other who had black hair and tan skin looked very annoyed and guarded.

Could that be the winner of the sword competition?...

Suddenly, next to him, a scraggly man with silver hair stood up to put on his coat. He looked to be the oldest among the group, perhaps in his late-twenties, although the dark circles under his eyes made him appear quite haggard. He was so thin and frail compared to the others that Ursuline wondered why he was even there to begin with.

That scrawny mess is their mage?...

He looked at the Royal Knights who continued to whisper to each other as they sized-up the outsiders, most of them focused on the black-haired squire, eyeing him with a mixture of disdain and curiosity.

“Alright,” Abell sighed with narrowed eyes. “We shall see if Sir Triton sent me the most qualified indeed… I’ll have my squire show you the barracks so you can get settled.” Then, he addressed the entire room. “Everyone is dismissed. We depart at dawn.”

The knights began leaving the tent as Sir Abell motioned for Ursuline to come forward. “Show those men where they will stay for the night. Also… I need you to stick with them for the entire mission. The last thing I want is conflict between Triton’s men and mine, but his squire’s presence is already creating quite the ruckus.” He gave Ursuline a knowing look. “You’re friendly with Lachzion and Nirtha, correct?”

He nodded.

“Good. Then you know what to do.”

“Yes, Sir.” Ursuline replied then walked over towards the Remdragon Knights.

“Oi! Look who it is!” Hebaron greeted him with a jovial voice.

Ursuline tilted his chin at him in acknowledgment, but didn’t respond.

“It’s been a while, Ursuline Ricaydo,” Gabel said with a smile. “Good to see you again.”

“How’s knighthood treating you?”

“Hard, but I’m in good company so I can’t complain.” He turned his head towards the men behind him. “Before I forget, let me introduce you to Elliot Charon…”

Elliot stood up and extended his hand to Ursuline. “We didn’t get a chance to meet in Drachium, but I witnessed the match. It was quite enjoyable… Pleased to finally get acquainted.”

“Thank you… Likewise.” Ursuline shook his hand with a firm grasp. “Charon?... Are you related to Sir Willem Charon of the Royal Knights?”

Elliot had a slight resemblance to a now-retired knight who was well-respected, and even their demeanor and manner of speaking were similar. He had yet to hear about noblemen from more prominent families joining the Remdragon Knights, but it wasn’t such a far-fetched idea.

“Oh, no relation,” Elliot replied with a polite smile. “I come from a long line of knights, but I’m a commoner.”

Ursuline was slightly taken aback.

He could’ve fooled me.

“And this is Riftan Calypse,” Gabel continued. “I’m sure you’ve heard of him?”

“I have… Evidently, so has everyone who was present for the meeting, ” Ursuline replied as he moved his eyes to Riftan who met them with an indifferent expression. Sensing that the man would not be as cordial as Elliot Charon, he simply nodded at him and he nodded back. “I’ll show you gentlemen to the barracks.”

The scraggly man cleared his throat.

“My apologies,” Gabel chuckled. “I almost forgot Ruth Serbel… our mage.”

Ruth gave Ursuline a sarcastic smile. “Well, now that we’re all friends, please lead the way… I’m exhausted.”

“Follow me.”

As they walked through the camp, almost everyone watched them as if he were parading a spectacle.

“What the fuck is wrong with everyone here?” Hebaron whispered in a puzzled tone.

“Come now, you know how knights tend to react at the first sight of Riftan,” Gabel answered.

“Oh, shit… That’s right. He’s never been in the company of this many Royal Knights,” he chuckled. “Tell me Ricaydo, are they fascinated or afraid?”

“...”

“This fucking pagan is going to kill us in our sleep!” Hebaron snickered. “They probably think you drink blood too, Calypse... But what is that new thing that people are saying about you nowadays?”

Riftan stayed silent.

“I’ve heard so many that I can’t keep up,” Gabel answered.

Elliot laughed. “That he sleeps naked in trees and that he knows a hundred ways to please women.”

“You can blame those whores from the last town we stayed in. They made up that nonsense and spread the rumors after taking one look at Sir Riftan,’ Ruth added. “Unbelievable how pushy they were… They were all over him like slugs on a tree.”

“Well, shit. Maybe the rumors managed to reach this camp, hence, they're looking at Riftan as if he’s some wild fuck-fiend,” Hebaron egged on quietly.

“The four of you can piss off,” Riftan finally replied in a deep voice. “I told the Commander that it wasn’t a good idea to send me here.”

“Well, you did refuse to go with him to Croyso,” Hebaron retorted. “And he wasn’t going to send you straight to the border to deal with the Dristanian rebels.”

“Why didn’t you want to go to Croyso?” Gabel asked with a curious smile. “At least, you could’ve enjoyed some rest before heading to the border, and I highly doubt you’d have to worry about any women shamelessly pouncing on you over there… Although, personally, I wouldn’t mind that one bit.”

“He’s probably avoiding someone,” Hebaron chuckled. “Hey, Riftan… Did you charm the knickers off a Croyso maiden on our last visit, fucked her, only to leave her with your fluids and memories the following morning?”

Ursuline rolled his eyes. “Are you incapable of speaking without any crudity, Hebaron Nirtha?... Must every conversation you have lead to an explicit description on bedding women?” He finally spoke with exasperation, his voice slightly raised.

“What’s your problem, Ricaydo?”

“It’s been almost a year, yet you’re still the same foul-mouthed lout I met at the training grounds in Drachium. You’re a knight now… Have you no decorum or manners?”

Hebaron scoffed. “That’s Sir Hebaron Nirtha to you, squire,” he snapped back with emphasis. “Do you not know how to properly address a knight or speak to a superior with respect?... Now, who’s the one without decorum or manners?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“And you’re still incredibly uptight… Lemme ask you, when was the last time you had a good fucking? Because I think you need it.”

Ursuline halted his steps and turned to him. “I do not go around fucking women,” he hissed.

Hebaron’s eyes widened. “Oh, so you instead fuck–”

“No.”

Hebaron’s eyes moved to Ruth.

“Don’t you dare twist my words. I do not go around fucking women because I am betrothed.” Ursuline stated clearly with a huff. “And why were you looking at your mage just now?”

“Nothing.”

Ursuline glared at him then they continued to walk.

“Yes, why did you look at me, Sir Nirtha?!” Ruth asked angrily. “What are you insinuating?”

“I said it was nothing.”

“Bollocks. The look on your face betrays you.”

“I just always thought you liked men, Wizard…”

Ruth’s face twisted. “And what made you come to that conclusion?”

“Why else would you always refuse to come with us to the brothels? You’ve turned down every lass who’s ever approached you at a tavern or the marketplace... I have never seen a man so averse to the company of women, no matter how attractive or seductive.”

“Perhaps I’m shy and pious… Have you ever thought of that?”

“That’s a crock of shit.”

“Or I just haven’t met anyone who’s piqued my interest!”

“Oh, shut up, Ruth… The only thing that ever piques your interest are coins. I think we can all agree on that,” Gabel spoke, finally putting an end to their bickering.

When they arrived at the barracks, the knights and squires inside continued to burrow their eyes into Riftan as Ursuline led them towards the back of the tent.

“Ah, it’s Ricaydo and his new friends.”

He turned his head towards the corner where Lew Cayden sat on his bedroll, surrounded by other squires that Ursuline didn’t particularly get along with.

“So I’ve been told that I’ll be serving Sir Abell during the raids so you can keep a leash on your pets.”

Ursuline ignored him as he provided instructions to the Remdragon Knights before he moved slightly away and began undoing his bedroll.

“Ricaydo, I’m talking to you and you’re being rude!”

“Hey, you,” Hebaron called to Lew.

“Look at that… He’s already trained that one to bark,” one of the squires mumbled, making the others snicker.

“So you got assigned to Nathaniel Abell because Ricaydo’s got better things to do? Sounds to me like you’re just a measly substitute… You’re probably a shitty squire.”

“What did you say to me?”

“So you’re not only inferior, but deaf as well?”

“You impudent bastard. How dare you?”

“Your interference isn’t necessary, Sir Nirtha,” Ursuline calmly stated before looking directly at Lew. “If Sir Abell can treat the Remdragon Knights and their men with respect, you and I, as squires, can do the same. Mind your words, Lew Cayden.”

“Self-righteous prick…” Lew grumbled.

“Am I wrong, Cayden?… If you disagree, I’m sure Sir Abell would like to hear your argument.”

“You ought to leave and join their trashy order instead.”

“Perhaps I’lll consider it once I get bored of beating and out-performing you all the time. Honestly, it’s starting to become redundant,” Ursuline replied nonchalantly.

Lew pursed his lips.

“Now get some rest, Cayden. You’ll need it if you’ll be serving Sir Abel… With my absence, you’ll have big shoes to fill.”

He looked back at Hebaron who was staring at him incredulously. He had just humiliated Lew Cayden in front of everyone by scolding him for his impertinence towards a knight, yet he had just treated Hebaron similarly moments ago.

“You devious little twat…” Hebaron mouthed to him with a defeated smile.

Ursuline gave him a satisfied smirk and shrugged his shoulders. Then, he laid on his bedroll and went to sleep.

Chapter Text

“What is that?” a Royal Knight whispered as they hid quietly behind the boulders and large trees.

“I don’t know… A troll?” another knight answered.

Ursuline had never seen the creature before. It, indeed, resembled a troll, but it was massive in size and had ashen skin with thick scales in certain parts of its body.

“Look… There’s more.”

The first few days of the raid consisted of neutralizing countless goblins, werewolves, and ogres, along with the occasional encounter with drakes and wyverns. However, that day, Sir Abell said they would be ambushing a mixed horde.

Ursuline looked over to the Remdragon Knights who were positioned to his right at a distance. Hebaron signaled for him to hold his position, then pointed at Riftan.

He furrowed his eyebrows. Their orders were to wait for Sir Abell’s signal to commence the attack.

What on earth is he doing?... That oaf better not be trying to override the plan.

Ursuline shook his head at him.

Hebaron flared his nostrils at his defiance. Suddenly, he grabbed Riftan’s cloak, tugging it hard. With his eyes still fixed on Ursuline, he pointed vigorously at Riftan and the gray trolls. Then, he silently slammed his fist into his palm.

Riftan inaudibly mouthed an expletive at Hebaron for his sudden intrusion before gruffly pulling his cloak away.

Alright. So he wants Riftan to engage the trolls first…

Ursuline had been observing him since the raids began and just as Gabel had said, he was incredibly adept at killing monsters. Not only that, but he was unusually strong and his unconventional sword style, which Ursuline deduced to be mainly self-taught, was incredibly effective. Ursuline had never openly acknowledged it, but the former mercenary, Riftan Calypse, was by far probably the most skilled squire he had ever seen.

He signaled back that he would watch Riftan, but was going to follow the original plan of attack.

It wouldn’t hurt to watch what Riftan does with a troll…

Seconds later, a fire arrow appeared in the sky and everyone emerged from behind their hiding spots and rushed towards the horde that they had surrounded.

Ursuline unsheathe his sword and swung at the goblins and werewolves before him, cutting them in half.

He grimaced at the smell of werewolf blood. In spite of having been exposed to it a number of times since going on missions with Sir Abell, he still couldn’t seem to get used to the nauseating stench.

He watched as Riftan darted past him towards a gray troll. He dodged its attacks as he pulled out his bastard sword. Then, he bent sideways and cut deep into its inner thighs where the scales weren’t as thick. With a roar, the troll’s legs buckled, causing it to fall forward.

As it tried to get up, swinging its club at Riftan, he sliced through the thinnest part of its arms, rendering them immobile. Then, he dealt the final blow to its neck, decapitating it.

Riftan turned to him and nodded.

Ursuline nodded back, acknowledging that he’ll be using the same method to defeat the trolls.

Find the soft spots to disable the limbs, then go for the head…

He directed his horse towards a troll. Then, he jumped off and proceeded to attack it in the same fashion as Riftan. However, to his surprise, it took some effort to drive his sword blade through thinnest parts of the troll’s skin. Ursuline clenched his jaw as he swung his sword, wondering how Riftan made it look so easy.

After he finally killed the monster, he got back on his horse and rode forwards.

“Attaboy, Ricaydo!” Hebaron hollered at him from nearby. “Now, you’d better go help your knights!”

Ursuline turned his head and saw a group of Royal Knights who were cornered by trolls.

“Sir Abell!” he gasped, kicking his horse to a gallop towards them.

The trapped knights were frantically striking at the scale-covered trolls and several were bludgeoned with clubs.

Sir Abell was running towards one when Ursuline suddenly appeared on horseback and obstructed his path.

“Dammit, Ricaydo! Get out of the way!”

Ursuline jumped off the horse and went for the monster's legs, swiftly driving his sword into each thigh and cutting outwards to sever its thick muscles. The monster fell with a loud roar.

Quickly grasping the logic behind his squire’s attack, Sir Abell cut the troll's arms near the elbows, then Ursuline severed its head.

He looked at Ursuline, a surprised smile appearing on his face. Then, he ordered the knights around him to disable the trolls’ four limbs before attempting to decapitate it.

The men did as they were told, and after a long while, all the monsters lay dead on the ground.

The knights and squires piled the monster corpses and set them on fire while Ruth and the other mages attended to the wounded.

“How many are injured?” Sir Abell asked another senior knight.

“The last number reported was twelve, but we’re still checking everyone.”

“And the deceased?...”

“Four.” He then gave Abell their names.

“Have the cleric cleanse the bodies then bury them,” he ordered. “I’ll send the message to the capital once we make camp.”

The knights chattered about their first encounter with gray trolls as they sat around the campfire eating supper. They had lost a few knights to the trolls during the raid. However, they felt very fortunate to have learned an effective method of killing them before they suffered any more casualties.

“Here’s to the commander of this mission!” a Royal Knight announced, holding a flask in the air. “Your quick thinking saved this army, Sir!”

The other knights and squires joined him, hooting and clapping their hands.

“No…” Nathaniel Abell stood up, “It was my best squire, Ursuline Ricaydo, who saved me, then saved the army...”

The noises grew louder as the men cheered him on.

“Stand up, Ursuline,” Abell ordered proudly. “It was you who showed me how to cut down the beast.”

“Hear, hear!”

“Cheers to you, Ricaydo!”

“Why am I not surprised?!”

Ursuline was used to being recognized for his talents and skills, especially since the environment in the Royal Army was highly competitive. He had cemented his reputation as the army’s best squire long ago, and being the first in the group to kill a gray troll during the raid put another notch in his achievements. However, nothing about the ovation felt right. He may have rescued Sir Abell and shown him how to disable the troll, but he couldn’t take credit for their victory.

“Thank you, Sir Abell,” he said after clearing his throat. “But it is the Remdragon Knights who deserve the recognition…”

The sounds around him slowly faded.

Ursuline turned his head towards the Remdragon Knights. They had stopped eating and were watching him with intrigued expressions on their faces; all except for Riftan, who dipped bread into his soup bowl before shoving it into his mouth, not seeming to care about what was going on.

“I didn’t save the army. I merely contributed,” he continued. “Sir Hebaron Nirtha insisted that I observe their squire, Riftan Calypse, who effectively immobilized a troll before killing it. He showed me how to kill the beasts.”

Whispers broke out among the Royal Knights.

“Is that so?” Sir Abell asked after he clicked his tongue. “In that case, then you also have my gratitude, Remdragon Knights. Riftan Calypse…”

He looked up with a mouthful of food, his expression placid.

“Thank you for sharing your methods.”

Abell clapped his hands and his men followed suit, but the atmosphere had suddenly turned awkward as no one else from the army seemed to want to give them a word of acknowledgement.

The men finished their meals and after a moment, they left the campfires to go into their tents.

Ursuline stayed with the Remdragon Knights who had been assigned to keep watch that evening. As he placed his belongings next to a tree, Lew Cayden passed him with a mocking smile plastered on his face. “Not the best squire after all,” he snickered to his friends. “Not very bright either… He could’ve kept his mouth shut and not let that pagan take the credit.”

Taking the high road and choosing to ignore Lew Cayden’s antics for the last few weeks had been extremely difficult for Ursuline, especially since he had been brown nosing Sir Abell in hopes to get into his good graces.

Ruth tossed more wood into the fire before settling into his bedroll.

“Dammit, sorcerer,” Hebaron scolded him. “Don’t make the fire too big. Why are you sleeping out here anyway?… You always complain about being cold.”

”I’m not staying in there without any of you. What if one of them guts me in my sleep?” he whined. “Besides, there’s enough of you to keep any attacking monsters at bay even if I turn that into a bonfire, especially with Ursuline here, who’s quite proficient at exterminating trolls.”

“You making fun of me, mage?” Ursuline asked brusquely.

“What part of what I said sounded like mockery?” Ruth asked with twisted lips. “You’re an intelligent young man, but you can’t seem to differentiate compliment from insult.”

It was his manner of speaking that made it difficult for him to tell if Ruth was being truthful or sarcastic. That, and the fact that he seemed to always have a riposte for everything.

“Ah, that’s because Ricaydo takes everything too seriously,” Hebaron huffed. “But I must say, your skills do impress and you’re a quick learner. I tried demonstrating Riftan’s moves to your knights, but the bastards didn’t quite get it… That’s why they’re dead.”

“Or perhaps you weren’t as precise as Riftan?” Gabel pointed.

Hebaron glared at him, then turned his attention back to Ursuline. “Say… Why were you being so stubborn the first time I told you to watch him?”

“I didn’t want to take orders from you,” he replied nonchalantly.

“And why not?”

“I find it hard to take you seriously. You have the maturity of a boy of twelve.”

“Bollocks… You only think that because you’re awfully rigid while I’m fun and charming. But I can be a hard-ass too, just like you, Ricaydo.”

“Then, perhaps I just don’t like you.”

Elliot chuckled. “Aw, come now, Ursuline. Sir Hebaron just wants to be friends…”

“What makes you think I want to be his friend?”

“Well, you did insist that he learn how to kill a troll... You could’ve just let him get bludgeoned like the others.”

Hebaron scoffed. “He’s been assigned to us for this entire raid so it would look bad if we let him die. You heard Abell… “ He puffed his chest and mimicked the knight with exaggeration. ”My best squire…”

“You know who wouldn’t mind if Ursuline did get bludgeoned?” Elliot teased.

“That little bitch, Lew Cayden,” Hebaron answered. “Now, I’d actually pay to see a troll brain that pompous fuck.”

Suddenly, Riftan chuckled dryly.

All heads turned to him.

“Who knew you had a dark sense of humor, Riftan,” Elliot commented with a smile.

“It’s not humor… I second Hebaron on that one,” he quipped.

“Aye… Me too.”

“Quiet. We don’t need any more trouble with this kind of talk,” Gabel whispered.

“Yes, I am growing rather tired of intervening between you and the Royal Knights.” Ursuline pressed the space between his eyes with his fingers. “I assured Sir Abell that I would deescalate any tension between you and his men, or at least, not contribute to it… but it’s getting more difficult by the day.”

“My apologies. I started it,” Elliot sighed. “It was just a jest.”

Suddenly, Ursuline stifled a laugh. “Although, I think I’d enjoy watching Cayden get brained by a troll… Dammit, I’d even pay the troll.”

The men laughed quietly.

“Shit,” Hebaron muttered, dumbfounded. “Ricaydo kidding around?… And actually laughing?”

Ursuline cocked his head. “Why do you and Gabel say that?”

“Because you’re so damn… dry.”

“Did you see Cayden earlier when Sir Abell called Ursuline his best squire?” Ruth interrupted. “I think all the color left his face.”

“He was paler than you?” Hebaron asked, drinking from a flask, then passing it around.

Ruth rolled his eyes.

Riftan drank, then passed it to Gabel. “Why didn’t you take the credit for the victory? You did, after all, save Abell and showed him how to kill a troll.”

“It was your methods, not mine. There’s no honor in taking credit for that.” He paused for a moment, then furrowed his eyebrows. “Wait, were you all expecting me to?” he asked, slightly insulted.

“Well, you are a nobleman…”

“And being one naturally makes me dishonest?”

“I’ve yet to meet one who isn’t,” Riftan replied flatly.

“Well,” Ursuline countered confidently. “Now you have.”

Chapter Text

“What are you making now, Gabel?” Elliot asked. 

He looked up from the piece of wood he was whittling with a dagger. 

“What do you think, lads?” he asked, holding it up. “I’m just shaping it. It’s too dark to work on any details now.”

The light from the campfire wasn’t enough to completely illuminate the figure, but Ursuline could tell what it was. When their watch began, Gabel was just peeling the bark off of a piece of wood. After a few hours, he had managed to shape it into a horse with a front and hind leg bent as if it were trotting. 

He set it down on the ground. A smile appeared on his face when it rested evenly on the dirt and didn’t fall over.

Riftan tilted his head at him in appreciation.

“I didn’t know you had this talent,” Ursuline said.

“It looks really good, Gabel,” Elliot added.

“You’re getting better and better, Lachzion,” Hebaron complimented. “You plan on making furniture too? If knighthood doesn’t work out, you can probably make money by selling all the shit you carve.” 

“I’ll be your first paying customer,” Ruth muttered sleepily from his bedroll. “Can I commission you to carve a muzzle for Sir Nirtha?...”

The rest of the men chuckled.

“I thought you were asleep?”

Ruth turned to him. “How could I possibly fall asleep when you won’t shut up?”

“Am I the only one who’s been talking this entire time?”

“No, but you are the loudest and your voice makes the earth vibrate,” Ruth retorted. “It’s like trying to sleep through a mild quake.” 

“Oi, Riftan’s voice is just as deep as mine.”

“Yes, but he has hardly said a word since the watch started. You’re the one who’s been mewling incessantly like a cat in heat.” 

Hebaron threw a pebble at him, hitting his blanket. “Fuck you, Sorcerer…” 

“Ow!” Ruth whined.

“What do you mean, ‘ow? ’... You’re bundled like an infant. You fuss like one too.”

“Oh, do quiet down, Sir Nirtha. Please…” Ruth complained as he pulled the blanket over his head. “Some of us actually need sleep.”

“All you ever do is sleep… just like an infant. What next? You’re going to start crying for milk?” Hebaron pointed at Riftan. “Go get your baby and soothe it, Calypse… He needs his teat.”

Ruth stuck an arm out of the blanket and flashed Hebaron his middle finger, while Riftan shook his head at him as he leaned against a tree.

“Look at that! See how rude he is without any senior knights watching?… How long have you put up with this sneaky, whining sloth?” Hebaron asked. “You never did tell us the story of how you two met.”

“There’s nothing to tell, really. Met him on a job a few years after I became a mercenary. Followed me around all the time because he swore the others would beat him then rob him.”

“Was he always like this?”

“Yep, and nagging… For a while, I thought he was growing out of my ass.” 

“Heh!”

Riftan paused. “But, he turned out to be a decent mage… He’s not exactly useless.”

“‘ A decent mage?’ ” Ruth grumbled from underneath the blanket. “I’ve got more talent in my one finger than any of the others here… You ingrates are lucky to have me.”

“Oh, and he’s modest too,” Riftan added sarcastically. 

“Ah, cut him some slack. Ruth’s proven his skills as wizard and healer,” Gabel commented as he continued whittling wood. “I’m glad he’s here… It was terrible not having a mage for all those years.”

Ursuline recalled the sparring match between him and Gabel almost a year ago; how worried he was about scarring his face, claiming that the Remdragon Knights had no mage to cast healing on him.

“So Ruth was recruited with Riftan after the tourney?” Ursuline asked. 

Hebaron snickered. “We couldn’t take the dog without the fleas… In this case, one enormous flea.”

Ruth stuck out his middle finger at him again. 

“He made himself sound important enough,” Gabel added. “Can’t say he was wrong.”

“How about you three?” Ursuline pointed his chin at them. “How’d you all end up with the Remdragon Knights?”

Elliot answered first. “Commander Triton and his men saved my village while it was getting pillaged. They saw the fires and smoke, and they came to help and fought off the ravagers.” He smiled with gratitude. “My father was away and I was very young at the time. I couldn't save my mother, but I was able to hide my sisters. One of the cretins had caught me and was about to slit my throat, but Commander Triton found me just in time…  As soon as I was old enough, I asked to become their squire. My father wasn’t too pleased, but out of gratitude, he allowed it. He had wanted me to join the Ironsides, just like all the men in our family.”

“Ironsides?”

“It’s not a well-known order. Most of their knights hail from our region… I grew up near Artrem.”

“That’s in western Wedon?”

“Correct.”

“I see… Well, I’m sorry about your mother.”

“Me too.”

Ursuline looked at Gabel who had put away the horse figurine that he was working on.

“I joined because of Commander Triton and his wife… I was living in the streets as a boy. I don’t even remember my parents, nor how I survived on my own for that long.” A bitter smile appeared on his lips. “I was in an alley where a couple of boys were beating the shit out of me. I was so small and frail… I was no match for them. I remember getting hold of a stick and I just started swinging it in every direction.”

Ursuline pictured Gabel as a pitiful and skinny young boy frantically waving a stick to defend himself.

“Sir Triton came out of nowhere, scared them off. Then he dragged me over to his carriage… I was kicking and screaming, holding on to that stick for dear life, and I started hitting him with it. I really thought he was trying to abduct me. Needless to say, it was like striking a rock with feathers. It was so pathetic that he laughed,” he chuckled. “Then, Lady Triton opened the carriage door… She was a vision, the loveliest woman I had ever seen in my short time on earth. She held a loaf of bread in one hand and asked me to come inside and sit with her. I can remember my stomach grumbling… I hadn’t eaten in days. My mouth watered as soon as I saw that damn loaf and I thought, ‘Fuck it. They can feed me now and kill me later.’ At least, I wasn’t going to die hungry. I went inside that carriage, devoured the entire loaf before she could even blink, my belly aching instantly from being so full.”

“What happened afterwards?”

“They brought me to their home, cleaned me up and gave me a bed for the night. The following day, Sir Triton took me outside and tossed me a wooden sword. It was the nicest thing I had ever held in my hands… I swung it, pointed it. I played around, pretending to be one of those knights who tested their brand new swords at the town smithy. I looked like a damned fool, but I didn’t care… I was having the best time. He said that I had potential. If I chose to stay, he would teach me how to be a knight, and Lady Triton could teach me how to be a gentleman… After a decent meal, a bath and some clean clothes, I was more than agreeable. No one had ever shown me such kindness. I stayed and they raised me. Now, here I am… and I’m forever grateful.”

“Dammit,” Hebaron muttered under his breath. “That story gets me every time...”

“Are you teary-eyed again?” 

“Shut it, Charon… I was drunk the first time I heard it.”

“And you?” Ursuline asked him. 

“I was working as a mercenary when I met the Captain.”

“You mean Commander.”

“Eh?”

“He’s not your captain, he’s your Commander,” Ursuline corrected.

“Same thing.”

He sighed with slight irritation. “Well, did Commander Evan Triton save you as well?”

“Yes, I suppose, in a sense… he did,” Hebaron snorted. “I was fighting with a group of drunks inside a tavern and all my ale had spilled. Triton sat there and watched the whole thing…  By the time it was over, one of the whores had also snagged my coin pouch, so not only was I extremely thirsty, but I was also dead broke… He approached me, said I had a mean swing and he wanted to talk. I refused, but then he said he’d buy me dinner and a drink. Next thing I know, he and I down a few small kegs and I’m agreeing to join the brotherhood.”

“Good grief,” Ursuline mumbled, shaking his head at him. “Why do all your stories seem to involve liquor and women? Whores, in particular.”

“They do, don’t they? Can’t help it… They’re the main staples of my life,” he laughed.

Gabel yawned. “It lacks history, my friend. Tell him how you grew up.”

“If it involves the recurring theme of liquor and whores, I’ll pass.”

“Hard-ass…” Riftan muttered. “I think we’ve finally met a man more straight-laced than Elliot.” 

“Oi! I may be averse to brothels, but I do drink on occasion,” Elliot chortled. He turned to Hebaron, “Gabel is right… He and I shared our sob-stories from when we were boys. Riftan and Ruth’s may forever remain a mystery, so how about you break the tie?”

“Fine… but you tell it for me, Lachzion,” he suggested. “I’m tired.”

“But it’s not my story to tell.”

“Well, I’m asking you to. Being that you’re so good with words, let’s see if you can add some flair to my tale.”

“Very well... I shall try,” Gabel finally agreed with a smile. “ The Tragic Beginnings of Sir Hebaron Nirtha, coming right up.” 

The red-head clapped his hands softly and bowed his head. 

Gabel sat up straight, his face growing somber. 

“The mighty cries of a babe filled a home on an evening devoid of moonlight. Born was the sole heir of house Nirtha… Hebaron was his given name. His mother, a lovely lass who hailed from the north. She was the daughter of a Baltonian nobleman, passing on the blood of giants to her newborn son. No doubt, he would inherit the brute strength, prowess, and colossal frame of his ancestors.”

“Damn! I like it already.”

Gabel held a hand up to Hebaron to silence him.

“Sorry.”

He winked an eye, pleased that he had managed to already impress the subject of his impromptu narration, then he continued. “She was in love with her child from the moment he left her womb. Her baby, her life, her heart. Her son’s father… An old baron from Wedon. An uncaring old fart who cherished neither his wife, nor the child who would carry on his name. A conniving worm with a nasty habit that he tried to conceal. He was a gambling man, you see…  And oh, he bet on most anything! From duels to horse races, even on who can take a piss the longest… And he used his wife’s money to fund his nefarious hobby. The vice consumed him, eating away all their possessions to the point of ruin. Then came the sudden demise of his wife… the real source of his wealth. His son, young Hebaron, no longer had a mother… the only parent to ever love him. What killed her?… Was it her husband’s deceit that caused her to die of a broken heart?... Or, perhaps, had he simply neglected to summon a healer to cure what should’ve been a common illness because he opted to continue squandering their dwindled wealth on games of chance, hoping that his luck would change? No one will ever know. Many moons later, the time of reckoning finally came. The baron couldn’t deliver on what he owed and justice was swift to strip him of his title and home… House Nirtha was no more. Young Hebaron was left in the care and mercy of former servants until he was old enough to fend for himself; servants who felt indebted to their dead mistress for her past kindness. What became of the young titan? He grew up strong, brave and wise… A lover of adventures, a good scuffle, liquor and women… One day, he learned that the old baron had died after living in a squalid hovel outside of the city. He went to that hovel… It was his only inheritance along with his father’s sullied name. He took a long look at it before he razed it to the ground. From the ashes, he started his life anew; testing his capabilities and limits as a mercenary which led him to the brotherhood of the Remdragon Knights, a hodgepodge of diamonds in the rough that he would end up calling family.”

Hebaron resumed clapping softly and Elliot joined him, while a smile of amusement erupted from Riftan’s lips. 

Ursuline clicked his tongue. “You could rival the troubadours in Drachium, Gabel.”

Gabel bowed to his small approving audience.  “There. Now it’s your turn. How’d you end up with the Royal Knights?”

Holding out on the discussion wouldn’t be fair, especially since he’d been the one to initiate the topic, but Ursuline decided that it was best to keep it brief.

“I’m afraid my life’s not nearly as interesting as any of yours, but my mother died when I was a young boy, and my father had my older brother raise me. My family, the Ricaydo’s, have served in the Royal Army for generations… All had prestigious positions. My father and grandfather were high-ranking knights, and now, so is my older brother. To make the long story short, I’m expected to follow in his footsteps.

“That’s it?” Gabel asked, giving him a knowing look. 

“Yes. Why?”

“Nothing… It’s just that I’ve met your brother. It may have been only one time, but–”

“But what?”

“Nevermind,” Gabel sighed. “You’re not obligated to share more than what you’re comfortable with.”

“ Honest noble my ass, Ricaydo,” Hebaron grumbled. 

The simple yet blunt statement irritated him to the core, and suddenly, Ursuline was unsure of what to do next. He didn’t want to share those kinds of stories about himself. No one knew about his family life except for the servants in the Ricaydo household who’ve been threatened to secrecy, Gilbreth, and his cousin, Caleb Hurst. To tell these men that he was his brother’s pawn; that he’d been constantly beaten and berated by him since childhood; and that his father didn’t care for him at all would be absolutely humiliating. He was Ursuline Ricaydo… What would they think? Would they truly understand his position? His responsibilities?

It was then that it dawned on him– every single man resting around that campfire with him who spoke had come from a humble background. They were mercenaries or low-borns, yet he was the poorest of them all… They had freedom. They had control of their lives, while he didn’t. Even worse– whatever cruel and unfortunate circumstances they had been subjected to were now just figments of their past, while Ursuline’s was ongoing; or rather, it was just beginning. 

He chuckled to himself. Perhaps Commander Triton could swoop in and offer me a different life as well... How ridiculous. 

“You, being a liar, isn’t exactly funny.”

Hebaron’s words snapped him out of his thoughts and he realized that he was in a precarious predicament. What was more important to him? Being called a liar, or concealing the truth about his past and present? 

Before he could think more on it, he opened his mouth.

“I’m treated like rubbish, constantly having to prove my worth. I’ll always live in my brother’s shadow and he and my father make sure I never forget it… There. Is that honest enough for you?”

Hebaron’s eyes grew wide. “Alright, I'll take it back.”

Ursuline instantly regretted favoring honesty over his pride. Why did he even claim to be an honest man in the first place? Didn’t he lie for Caleb Hurst to help him? 

Noticing the incoming knights and squires who’ve come to take their place, he stood up and looked at the men who were all staring at him. None of them seemed surprised by his revelation. Neither did any of them appear to be mocking or judging him. 

“Our watch is over… Get some rest. One of you, wake Ruth,” he mumbled before grabbing his things and walking towards the tents. Suddenly, Lew Cayden collided with him shoulder to shoulder.  

“You enjoyed your time with your peasant friends?” he sneered. 

Friends.

Ursuline looked at him with a flat expression, then kept walking without a reply. 

Chapter Text

Another week passed. While Ursuline was performing squire duties with Elliot, Hebaron and Gabel were summoned by Sir Abell to his tent. 

He had received word from Commander Triton, ordering the Remdragon Knights to meet him at the Wedon-Dristan border. Being that most of the monsters in the area had been contained, Sir Abell agreed for the men to depart the following morning.

Ursuline felt slightly disappointed at their sudden orders as he had thought that they would finish the current mission with the Royal Knights as he had grown accustomed to them. They were highly capable, tactical, and they all seemed to work harmoniously in the battlefield. If he were being honest, he probably even preferred their company over most of the men in the Royal Army, especially the other squires. Although he’d never openly admit it, that preference even included Hebaron in spite of his boorish and juvenile behavior. They butt heads constantly, and their dispositions were as compatible as oil and water, but he appreciated that, at least, the man was always direct and genuine.

“So what will become of you once we leave?” Elliot asked while he readied their horses for the journey.

“I’ll resume my regular duties for Sir Abell,” Ursuline replied as he placed fodder in the makeshift troughs. “It’s too bad… I’ve gotten quite used to working with you men. Now, I feel like I have to start all over.”

Elliot looked at him incredulously.

“What?”

“You’ve grown fond of us… You can say it,” he replied with a smile. 

Ursuline scoffed. “Think what you want. If my partiality towards efficiency is to be mistaken for fondness, then so be it.”

“Oi, is that really all there is to it? I thought you considered us friends by now.”

Ursuline turned to look at Elliot who was brushing the coat of Hebaron’s warhorse. 

The events of the past several weeks swirled in his mind. From the first briefing in Sir Abell’s tent to their most recent raid. He always seemed to work with the Remdragon Knights in synchrony. Not only that, but these men had saved him from close calls and he had done the same for them. Like when Elliot had pushed him out of the way when a tree collapsed in his direction, and when Hebaron was quick to grab him by the arm when his chain link snapped when they were ordered to climb a steep mountain. He, in turn, had saved Gabel by deflecting an arrow that was “accidentally” aimed toward him by a Royal Knight, and killed a monster who was headed straight for Ruth as the mage focused his wind magic on maintaining a barrier to keep their supply carts and horses safe during battle. 

He recalled the evenings they spent keeping watch and the times they were assigned to patrol the areas around camp. Previously, he never engaged in conversations the way he had with these men. In fact, he couldn’t even recall ever laughing or telling a joke in the presence of the Royal Knights or his peers, save for Caleb Hurst; let alone, sharing personal stories and experiences. He couldn’t. He always felt like he had to be on guard.

”I do consider you as… friends,” he muttered. 

Suddenly, he bit his tongue. 

Why did I say that? 

Ursuline began to chide himself inwardly for sounding soft and vulnerable until Elliot spoke again.

“You’ll think me mad, but I have an idea… Come with us,” he quipped in a playful manner. “Leave the Royal Army and join us Remdragon Knights. I’m sure we can convince Commander Triton to accept a squire with your qualities. I’ll vouch for you… In fact, I bet the others would readily do so as well.”

Elliot didn’t notice that Ursuline had stopped working. For a moment, he was actually entertaining the thought. 

What would happen if he ever chose to do such a thing?

Elliot looked towards him and he quickly resumed feeding the horses. 

“Hey, it was a jest, Ursuline,” he smiled bitterly. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

“I wasn’t,” he responded. Then, he grabbed a brush and began smoothing the coat of Gabel’s horse. “Where’s Riftan?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Sir Hebaron thought it would be best if he stayed with Ruth. Your knights and mages have been making him… ill at ease.” 

“I’m well-aware of how the men here treat him, especially the mages,” he replied bluntly. “No need to sugar coat things with me, Elliot. I may be a squire of the Royal Army, but it doesn’t mean I condone their actions.”

Rumors of Ruth Serbel being a deserter of Nornui had been circulating for the last several days and many of the knights and mages at camp had been openly hostile in showing their disapproval towards the wizard. However, they didn’t bother him so long as he was in the company of Hebaron Nirtha or Riftan Calypse due to their intimidating size and aura. 

“Deserter or not, your mage has contributed much to the raids. If I were more than a mere squire, I would do more to rectify his maltreatment.”

Elliot chuckled softly. “A true face of chivalry and honor you are, Ursuline Ricaydo. I’m sorry to say, but they need more men like you in the Royal Army.”

Ursuline whipped his head towards him. 

Catching himself, Elliot looked around the stables and scratched his head. “I shouldn’t say such things out loud.”

He wasn’t wrong. Most of the Royal Knights and squires who had been assigned to join the raids were entitled, pompous, and hypocritical. Ursuline knew well that most didn’t care for honor or chivalry; they were only there because of family tradition or to fulfill an obligation. 

He frowned. 

He may be honorable and chivalrous, but like the rest, he was also there because of tradition and obligation.

Do I really want to be a Royal Knight?

“Oi,” Elliot declared, interrupting his thoughts. “I appreciate you giving me a hand here, but if you’re needed elsewhere, go. Perhaps Sir Abell is looking for you.”

“If he requires my services, he’ll send for me,” he replied with a shake of his head. “Besides… if I go to him now, I’d surely spend the entire evening cleaning monster remains from his armor and weapons. That bootlicker, Lew Cayden, can do all of that.”

Elliot laughed. 

“It’ll be my parting gift before he gets sent back to his knight.”

Ursuline watched as the Remdragon Knights headed east at the break of dawn. He last spoke with them during supper, after he and Elliot finished in the stables; then, he opted to keep watch with a group of Royal Knights with whom he spent the rest of the evening in silence and deep thought. It was better that he didn’t approach them to say goodbye to avoid fueling any growing attachment to his new friends.

Since the mission started, he had practically spent every single day with them. He was just fulfilling Sir Abell’s order to help minimize conflict with the rest of the men, but thanks to Lew Cayden, some had began to think that Ursuline favored the outsiders over his own order. It didn’t bother him because it wasn’t true. Of course, it wasn’t. To accuse the best squire of the Royal Army of such a thing was absolutely ludicrous.

“Come with us… Leave the Royal Army and join us Remdragon Knights.”

Elliot Charon said it was a jest, but he sounded half-serious. 

Ursuline shook his head. 

What was the strange feeling brewing in his gut? Why was he still stuck on those words? 

How could being in the company of five men— lowborns, mercenaries, a fallen noble, and a deserter cause such a disruption within him? Nothing sensible could possibly come out of such a bizarre proposition. His place was in the Royal Army. He excelled there and that is where he belonged.  

There were already rumors circulating that Ursuline would be offered a position once he gets knighted, and that practically guarantees his fast ascent among the ranks.

I could lead the entire army… I’d have to be insane to jeopardize that.

Ursuline had a future set, King Reuben said so. Trevor and his father said so… 

He let out a deep sigh. 

He had to stop this madness. His knighthood was fast approaching and it would do him well to shake off this folly before he returned to Drachium.

Chapter Text

Ursuline was away for another three months after the Remdragon Knights parted ways with the Royal Army. 

Finally, it was time to return to Drachium.

He led his horse through the main path towards the Ricaydo estate and the servants quickly gathered around the plaza to greet and attend to him. 

As the stable hand took the reins of his horse, he couldn’t help but notice all the maidservants staring at him or watching him from the corners of their eyes. He had a pretty good idea as to why. It happened frequently at every town they stopped at on the way back to Drachium.

The year-long expedition had further conditioned his already able body, and being so keen on staying well-groomed regardless of the environment, he always stood out among the knights and squires. In fact, Caleb Hurst affirmed this with his own observations as soon as he saw Ursuline at the training grounds to report his arrival before heading home. 

“You left as a boy and returned a man!” he had exclaimed in a deeper voice as he poked Ursuline’s broad chest with curiosity.

His pudgy cousin was now slimmer, had gained some muscle, and had grown a couple inches taller since he last saw him.    

“I thought I’d be the one to surprise you with a leaner appearance, yet you’ve come back even more dashing than you already were… I hate you.”

“Good to see you too, cousin,” he replied with a tired chuckle. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

“No one will care once they see me next to you.” He eyed him from head to toe. “Were the lodgings decent while you were away?”

“Don’t be an idiot... I was on missions, not a long vacation. I either slept in a tent or outside, exposed to the elements… We were lucky if we found an inn that wasn’t comparable to an out house.”

“Then how did you manage to look so kempt? The others who returned with you look like a bunch of vagrants.”

He swallowed hard as he walked towards the entrance doors and braced himself for what awaited on the other side. He hoped that neither his father nor brother would be home, but he was eager to see Gilbreth. He wanted to know how he was faring and catch up for a moment before he goes to his chambers to savor a warm meal and a bath. More than anything, he wanted to lay down and sleep.

As soon as he set foot in the foyer, he could hear shouting coming from upstairs.

More servants came to greet him.

“ Who’s up there?” he asked one of them.

“The Count and Sir Trevor, Milord… I believe Gilbreth also.”

”What happened?”

The servant shrugged his shoulders and avoided his gaze. “I do not know, Milord.”

The yelling ceased momentarily and Ursuline cautiously walked up the steps. When he reached to top, he found his father standing alone in the hallway.

“You’re back,” he said flatly.

“Hello, Father,” Ursuline greeted, pretending not to feel the slight sting of his lackluster welcome after he’d been gone for so long. “Is everything alright?”

“You are to attend the knighting ceremony at Drachium Palace this evening in my stead,” he declared, disregarding his question. 

Ursuline frowned. Did the man not understand how tired he was at that exact moment, or did he just not care?

“What about Trevor? Why can’t you send him instead?” he asked begrudgingly.

“Stupid boy… Must I state the obvious? If I could, I would.”

”…”

“There’s a more important matter that he and I must attend to. Should anyone ask, tell them that we both fell ill and the healer insisted that we rest.”

Who would actually believe that?

“Be sure to mind yourself and represent this family accordingly.”

”Exactly why are you sending me?… ”

Razvan narrowed his eyes. “Is this what you’ve learned while you were away?… Question my orders and forget your place in this family?”

Ursuline’s jaw clenched. 

“I gave you a rather simple task. You’ve attended such ceremonies before… You sit, smile, and speak when necessary,” he added condescendingly. “I’ll excuse your poor behavior since it must be your exhaustion talking… Now, pull yourself together and get ready. You can rest once the night is over.”

The old man truly held no affection for him. He may have never laid a hand on Ursuline, but his indifference was just as bad as Trevor’s violent tendencies. 

Razvan pressed on the space between his eyes. “If I had the option, I’d forgo being associated with this travesty of an event altogether… but alas, we must still show the King our support.” 

He then called for the servants and ordered them to help Ursuline prepare. 

Ursuline sleepily sat inside the carriage as it slowly moved towards the gates of Drachium Palace. He had already dozed off a few times on the way there.

While he was getting ready at home, all of the servants seemed to be on-edge and avoided answering any of his questions. No one wanted to explain what the commotion was about prior to him speaking with the count.  

His plan was to do exactly as his father instructed- sit, smile, and speak only when necessary. He just wanted to evening to be over as soon as possible. 

Noticing that the carriage had stalled for quite a while, he opened the coachman’s window. “What’s the delay?” he asked impatiently. “We’ve barely moved.”

“There’s a long queue towards the palace, Milord,” the coachman replied, “It seems that every noble is attending the knighting ceremony.”

Ursuline knitted his brows and opened the curtains on both sides. There was, indeed, a long line of carriages before and behind him, all bearing banners with the crests of Wedon’s nobility. 

“What on earth?...” he muttered, convinced that every noble in the entire kingdom had shown up. “Any idea why they’re all here?”

”Everyone in your household was saying that the ceremony is supposed to be quite the spectacle.”

”Why is that?”

”It has to do with one of the squires who will be knighted… Apologies, Milord, but that’s all I know.”

Knighting ceremonies were fairly well-attended, but to have this many nobles flocking together indicated that this squire must come from a powerful and influential family. However, as he thought about the squires who were scheduled to be knighted ahead of him, not a single one fit the bill. It could only mean one other thing— these people were here to be nosy.

That only fueled Ursuline’s annoyance at having to be there without being told why.

Earlier, the training grounds were buzzing about the ceremony, but he didn’t care to listen. Even Caleb started to talk about it until he abruptly cut him off. He was just too tired to take any interest in who was getting knighted and who was joining what order. Now, he wished that he had let his cousin speak.

Ursuline rubbed his temple with his thumb, cursing in his head. It was going to be a long night. He closed the curtains and leaned back in his seat, resting his head against the plush-line carriage wall. 

“Wake me up when it’s time,” he ordered the coachman as he folded his arms and closed his eyes. “I might as well rest while we wait.”

“Yes, Milord.”

“You’re Count Razvan Ricaydo?” the attendant asked him with a confused look as he read the invitation parchment that Ursuline handed him. 

“No, that is my father,” he replied tersely at the foolish assumption. “I am his second son, Ursuline Ricaydo. I am here in his stead.”

“Ah,” the attendant smiled with embarrassment. “Apologies. Please follow me, Milord.”

Ursuline walked behind him as they made their way to the great hall. 

Upon entering, he quickly noticed the elaborate decor and the mountainous variety of dishes prepared. Thousands of candles burned on the candelabras that lined the walls and guest tables, and the several large expensive chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. There were flowers and greenery everywhere, placed in ornate vases and pots, and the tables were draped with the finest linens. Not only that, but the entirety of the great hall was being utilized due to the vast number of attendees. The event, all in all, looked more like a victory celebration, rather than a typical knighting ceremony.

Before he could ask the attendant for more details about the evening, someone tapped Ursuline on the shoulder.

He turned. “Viscount Cassel,” he greeted before shaking his hand.

“Didn’t you just arrive with the Royal Knights today from a year long expedition, young man?” he asked, “I’m shocked that you’re here.”

“As am I, Viscount, if I’m being honest,” he replied with a light chuckle. “But I’m afraid my father and brother have fallen ill and they’ve sent me to represent the family.”

Viscount Cassel raised an eyebrow then paused. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that, but it’s good to see you.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“But aren’t you in the least bit tired?”

“Exhausted… It’ll be a miracle if I make it through the night.”

The viscount laughed heartily. “Indeed. Well, sending you speaks a lot on your father’s support for the King’s decision. He’s created quite a spectacle, as you can see,” he hummed as he turned his head left and right. 

“I beg your pardon?... Spectacle?”

Before he could answer, another nobleman approached them.

“Ursuline Ricaydo!” It was a friend of his father’s. 

“Count Harker… Good evening.”

“Please excuse me, Ursuline. I must speak with someone…” Viscount Cassel’s voice trailed off as he quickly left to approach another nobleman.

The conversations seemed endless as the nobles approached him one after another and Ursuline found himself repeating the same answers that he had given the Viscount. Ironically, his own questions remained unsettled. The discussions never went past formalities and small talk as they were always disrupted by the presence of another noble.

Feeling as if he’d aged five years from the amount of talking he’d done since entering the great hall, Ursuline excused himself and strolled towards one of the gardens. Oddly enough, he ended up in the same one where he had caught Isobel Paran talking to herself.

A dry chuckle escaped his lips before he sat down on the very same bench and closed his eyes.

Has it really been over a year since it happened?

It was then that he heard several men chattering, headed in his direction. Not wanting to be seen, he quickly moved behind some large shrubs to stay out of sight. 

“To favor that peasant was bad enough, but to advance him so quickly into knighthood is just absurd! What about our own sons who spent years training as squires before they were knighted?! His Majesty makes a mockery of their efforts,” one man complained.

“He is rather good, though, I hear. One of the best… Would you be more agreeable with His Majesty’s decision to knight him this evening if the boy weren’t a mercenary?”

“Not only a mercenary, but a foul-blooded mongrel!”

“Trash is trash, even if you cover it with armor! And it will still reek even with His Majesty’s fragrant praises and support. To think that we have to tolerate and mingle with it after tonight is absolutely infuriating!” another voice spoke.

“Did you hear that he will also be appointed as second-in-command? Imagine… From rags, to squire, to Vice-Commander? All in a year?!”

They scoffed with disgust.

”Have any of you actually seen him?” 

“I have,” someone answered. “Raven-black hair with bronze skin… Intimidating and equally menacing with that flat expression of his. And he struts around the grounds like he’s in a smithy rather than a palace. You all should see what he wears… It’s so very obvious that he doesn’t belong here.”

The men laughed.

Ursuline’s mind wandered for a moment.

It couldn’t be… Riftan?

“It’s that damn Evan Triton’s fault… He’s the one responsible for this travesty.”

”Partially responsible… The King already favored that half-blood the moment he won that sword tournament and made sure to have him recruited–”

Suddenly, they all stopped speaking. 

“Marquis Paran!” one of them exclaimed.

”Gentlemen,” a familiar voice spoke. “I hope you’re not out here bad-mouthing our host on this lovely evening,” he quipped jokingly. However, there was a seriousness in his tone.

”Of course not.”

“We were just sharing our thoughts on tonight’s occasion.”

”Actually, we were heading back inside…”

One by one, the men left.

Ursuline stood still, hoping that the Marquis had gone as well.

”You can come out now, Ursuline Ricaydo…” 

Chapter Text

Ursuline exhaled a long breath before stepping out from behind the shrubs. “Marquis Paran,” he greeted uneasily.

The man looked at him from head to toe with an indecipherable expression. “It’s unbecoming of someone like you to eavesdrop on private conversations.”

His body stiffened at the accusation. “I wasn’t trying to.”

“Then what were you doing out here?”

“I just wanted a few moments of peace and quiet,” he answered defensively. “How was I to know that those men would come out here just to malign one of the squires?… Jabbering on like a bunch of gossips and slinging mud at the King’s back.” Then, he narrowed his eyes. “And how did you even know I was here?... Were you following me?” 

Remembering whom he was speaking to, Ursuline bit his lip and scolded himself inwardly.

“My apologies, Marquis Paran,” he said in a calmer tone. “Forgive my impertinence… It’s been a long day.”

“You’ve got quite a temper, young man,” Marquis Paran deadpanned. “I followed you only so I could ask where your father is.”

He looked down on the ground. “He’s not here. He sent me in his place.”

“Wait… Didn’t you just arrive today?”

Ursuline nodded. 

Not wanting to prolong the already awkward conversation, he decided to go back inside before he had to lie about his father’s absence again. 

“Please excuse me.” He bowed and headed towards the grand hall without waiting for a response.

As he strode away from the garden, Ursuline shook his head. Of all people, it had to be his future father-in-law that he lashed out at. He knew that he should’ve stayed and attempted to clear their misunderstanding, but what was the point? He had already accused him of deliberately eavesdropping, when, contrarily, Ursuline only hid to avoid having to explain his father’s absence again. Ironically, those noblemen managed to be the ones to provide the answers he had been seeking since he was ordered to attend the ceremony.

The things they said about Riftan replayed in his head. He disregarded their insults and personal opinions, but what about the King expediting his knighthood and him being promoted as Sir Triton’s second-in-command?... How did those come to be?

As he pondered them, anger began to boil in his chest. Maybe his father was right. The whole event, indeed, was a travesty.

As much as he despised their backstabbing, those noblemen were absolutely right… Riftan’s swift advancements made mockery of all his efforts, training, and years of hard work.

What unsavory plan had he cooked up with Commander Triton and the King?

He now began to regret his fondness for the squire.

Was he a fool to think that Riftan was a good man because he had defied his previous assumptions? He spoke with wisdom and was a doer instead of a talker, unlike most mercenaries he had met, and he was never arrogant even when he had every right to be. Did he get carried away with blind admiration because of what he witnessed whenever they fought side by side?... Because he was uniquely formidable and because he showed him how to properly kill the trolls? 

Ursuline’s jaw clenched as he recalled a specific conversation they had.

“Well, you are a nobleman…”

“And being one naturally makes me dishonest?”

“I’ve yet to meet one who isn’t.” 

How dare he challenge his integrity when he was the one about to cheat him and many other squires by surpassing them without having paid his dues?

Ursuline halted his steps as he stood in front of the doors of the great hall.

But there has to be more to it… 

It was second nature for him to be distrustful, suspicious, yet not once did he ever feel that way when he was among the Remdragon Knights. 

Was I just desperate for company? 

The truth was, in spite of his popularity, Ursuline had no friends in the Royal Army. Maybe Caleb Hurst, but he was his cousin… and one that he always had to rescue. 

His entire mind was a jumble and he justified it as a serious indication of his exhaustion. 

Slowly, he entered the hall and walked towards the table where he was to sit. As he moved, he watched the scattered groups of familiar faces– knights, squires, and other young men, huddled together in conversations and laughter. 

A strange feeling of loneliness began to brew in the pit of his stomach. Why did it all suddenly bother him?

He scoffed when he came to a ridiculous realization… He felt betrayed by Riftan Calypse. A man whom he thought was his friend, someone whom he deemed as an equal in spite of their stark difference in station. A man that he respected.

Who’s to say he ever even viewed me as such?

To admit that only further wounded his pride. How would he face him after the ceremony?

Suddenly, he felt a nudge to his elbow. 

Ursuline turned his head, weary of the inevitable useless talk that he’d have to engage in till the night was over.

“I was just thinking when I saw you walk in… How incredibly rude of you to not say goodbye to your friends before we left for the border,” Elliot Charon quipped as he adjusted his collar. 

“You’re here…” Ursuline mumbled mechanically, stupefied by his coincidental appearance. 

“Why do you look so shocked? It’s Riftan’s knighting ceremony… We’re all here. Well, most of the men in our order.” He scratched his neck, leaving a reddened mark. Elliot was probably not used to wearing formal attire. Still, he looked neat and dapper although uncomfortable.

He shook his head to regain his composure. “I went on another mission after you all left for the Dristanian border… I only arrived today.”

“Shit! Aren’t you tired?” Elliot exclaimed. He clamped his mouth shut immediately when he realized his inappropriate speech.

“You have no idea...”

At that moment, the herald announced the start of the ceremony and asked everyone to take their seats.

“Oi, do you know where I can sit?” Elliot asked with embarrassment. “There’s no more room for me in our section.”

He pointed to the far end of the great hall where several Remdragon Knights were seated, all wearing plain formal attire. It took him a moment before he finally found Gabel and Hebaron who were pointing at him eagerly.

A faint smile erupted on his lips after waving a hand to them. “You’re in luck… My father and brother couldn’t make it, so there’s a seat for you.” 

Elliot followed him to his assigned table which happened to be right in front of the platform where the King would be performing the rites of knighthood. It was a place designated for more important guests. 

“I get to sit here?...” Elliot asked, quelling his excitement. 

Ursuline nodded as they sat down. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Elliot stick his tongue out at Gabel and Hebaron.

“Thank you, Ursuline,” he whispered. “I thought I was going to have to spend the evening outside.”

Finally, the ceremony began.

King Reuben ascended the platform and gave his opening speech. Then, he called the squires who were to be knighted one by one. They stood with him on the stage, dressed in the armor of their respective orders. Last in line, preceded by nine other squires was Riftan Calypse. 

He was loftier than the rest. His black hair rested loosely on his head, but it was obvious that he had tried to make it look tidier. Instead of it almost touching his eyes, like it always did during the raids, he had parted it enough to display more of his face which Ursuline realized to be actually rather boyish and didn’t quite fit his brawny and towering physique. His tanned skin made him stick out against the pale faces of the others, and as they stood before their heedful audience, it was quite obvious that the squires were uncomfortable and intimidated by him. 

All the while, Riftan, who wore a stolid expression, actually looked the most dignified and gallant.

King Reuben moved to the center of the stage and turned sideways while one of his attendants handed him a sword with a golden hilt that was encrusted with jewels. He called the first squire by his full name, prompting him to come forward and bend one knee. The king proceeded with his formal questions and the young man answered. Then, he began to recite the Knight’s Oath. 

There was a slight tremble in his voice and he stammered a number of times. When he finally finished, King Reuben raised his sword and tapped it on the squire’s right shoulder, then the left before announcing him as a knight of his order. 

The young man stood up and was received with applause and cheers. Amidst all the hubbub, Elliot nudged Ursuline and leaned towards him, cupping a hand over his mouth.

“I’m nervous for Riftan…” he mumbled discreetly. “I’m trying to stay calm, but I can’t help it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you have any idea how many people were opposed to this?… Him being knighted tonight?”

Ursuline looked at him with a flat expression, but he was curious to know more; what his side of the story was. 

“Even Riftan didn’t want to do this… But King Reuben insisted it was time.”

“What?...”

Elliot moved away when the noises ceased and gave Ursuline a look indicating that he would tell him more after the next squire finishes the rites. 

Ursuline diverted his attention to the next squire who turned out to be even more inept than the first. Then, he moved his eyes to the section of the knights of the young man’s order. Most of the men seated there were eyeing Riftan with disdain, pointing at him as they whispered to each other, shaking their heads. Ursuline recognized some of them— knights who had gotten into altercations with his own order after Sir Abell called them out on violations they committed against the women in a village that they had stayed in.

When the second squire was officially knighted, Elliot continued to speak to him in the same fashion. 

“Riftan wasn’t supposed to be knighted for, at least, another year so as to not ruffle any feathers among any of the other orders… A former mercenary becoming a knight after only a year?... Triton knew how bad it would look… We all knew!”

“So what happened?”

“We learned that the King had sent spies to watch Riftan and report back to him… To test his honor and credibility, I suppose.” Elliot clapped for a moment to try and blend in. “He knew about Riftan turning down sizable bribes from noblemen to abandon the order and hire him privately… He knew about the other orders that were trying to poach him… He even knew about the good work he’d done and the people he saved that weren’t part of our missions!”

Ursuline looked down, feeling shame and remorse for how he had reacted after hearing the nobles talk about Riftan in the garden. 

As the rest of the squires were knighted, in the midst of the applause, he learned more of Riftan Calypse’s several heroic and noble acts. 

He had saved women from getting raped by civilians and knights, and turned down those who offered themselves to him afterwards. He had rescued children from burning buildings and given his money away to the destitute in order to feed their families… The stories were various and were all laudable.

Elliot went on to describe Riftan as hot-tempered, but not one to start fights; truly formidable and gifted with any weapon, but modest. He was secretive and didn’t trust easily, but was loyal and protective towards those whom he cared about. 

Although his fondness for him had been reinstated, there was still a question of his character that Ursuline needed answered.

“So what’s this talk I’ve been hearing that he’s to be appointed as Vice-Commander of the Remdragon Knights? Is it true?”

“Absolutely,” Elliot replied with enthusiasm. 

“What kind of sketchy politics does your order practice?” he asked sardonically. 

Elliot looked at him incredulously. “There is no politics, my friend… We’ve always selected our leaders based on skill.” 

“What?...” he asked, not sure if he’d heard him correctly. “Based on skill?”

“You didn’t know?... No politics, no seniority… It’s always been the way of the Remdragon Knights.”

Ursuline looked at him, dumbfounded. 

“We all agreed that Riftan should be second-in-command.” Elliot clarified. “He may not have been with us for very long, but he deserves the appointment. Not only is he the best swordsman we’ve ever seen, after the Commander, of course, but he’s a good man. He’s family and I trust him with my life. I’d follow him anywhere…”

He looked around once more, observing the nobles and the knights who filled the room. He found Sir Abell amongst the Royal Knights clapping with a somber look on his face.

Ursuline wasn’t surprised to see him there. Nathaniel Abell always prioritized his duties over rest, and as a high-ranking knight, he was expected to attend even though he had also just returned from a long expedition. What did surprise Ursuline was finding Lew Cayden sitting next to him. 

Brown-nosing turd…

He looked absolutely haggard with the dark circles under his beady eyes. What on earth was he doing there? He wasn’t Sir Abell’s squire anymore, and his father was present so he didn’t even need to attend like Ursuline did.

Ursuline whipped his head back to the stage where Riftan was waiting to be called up. 

The nobles around them began to whisper statements against him, judging him for his background and slandering him. The majority of all the knights looked at him with scorn, and Ursuline remembered some of their faces… They should’ve been stripped of their sword and title due to the past atrocities they had committed, but instead, their crimes were swept under the rug due to their power or influence. 

“Nobles will always be prejudiced against those beneath them. Sometimes, we have reason to… but a good knight looks past one’s station to see their true value…”

He had never understood those words so well until that night. 

Finally, the King ordered Riftan to approach and the entire hall fell completely silent as he bent down on one knee.

“Squire Riftan Calypse, do you wish to become a knight, a loyal subject of Wedon?” he asked in his regal tone of voice.

“I do, Your Majesty.” 

“Do you understand the vow you are about to make?” 

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he replied firmly.

“Then, in the presence of God, myself, and the rest of the kingdom… state your oath.”

Riftan recited the Knight’s Oath slowly, clearly, flawlessly… purposefully. 

Unlike the others before him who had fumbled through it with mistakes, it was palpable that he understood and meant every word he said.

A chill ran down Ursuline’s spine as he watched King Reuben tap his shoulders with the sword. 

You deserve this, Riftan Calypse. I was wrong to think otherwise.

King Reuben smiled before re-introducing him to the entire hall.  “Now rise… Sir Riftan Calypse of the Remdragon Knights.”

Chapter Text

Ursuline opened his eyes. As soon as he realized that he was in his bedchambers in his father’s estate, he sat up from the bed with a jolt, wondering how long he had been asleep. 

Quickly, he rose and walked to one of the large windows and pulled back the curtain. The sun was high and he could see the workers tending to the garden outside. It was already late morning.

Dammit.

His father and Trevor will surely be disappointed by his apparent lack of discipline even though he had been away on missions and training for the past year, and Ursuline absolutely hated that coming home instantly had him walking on eggshells. 

He had returned from Drachium Palace late last night, staying for the banquet that followed the knighting ceremony much longer than he intended to. Elliot had pulled him over to the tables reserved for Riftan and his order. He appeared stoic, but inside, he was happy to be reunited with him, Gabel, Riftan, and even with the ever-obnoxious and immature Hebaron. There, he also met the rest of the Remdragon Knights who were rather welcoming and acknowledging of the stories they had heard about him from the raids. Before he knew it, Ursuline had spent hours on end with them in conversation; something very unusual for someone who was, normally, rather quiet around strangers.

He learned that he had a lot in common with many of the knights and squires– their ideals, views, interests. He appreciated the camaraderie among them, how well they treated each other, and how natural it all felt. Interestingly, all of them also seemed to corroborate Elliot’s claims about Riftan’s good character and his qualifications to be their Vice-Commander.

The entire time that he had watched Riftan being knighted, Ursuline was wrestling with the notion that he had been suppressing for the last three months– Elliot’s crazy idea for him to leave the Royal Army and join the Remdragon Knights. By the end of the evening, he was convinced that it was what he, indeed, truly desired. 

During his time away, Ursuline had slowly come to realize that he really did want to make a name for himself and be his own man, that he really did want to escape his fate and become more than just the second son of Count Ricaydo and Sir Trevor’s man-at-arms . He wanted to prove that he could be more, that he could elevate the Ricaydo name through his own means. Now, he might have a real chance to do so… in the best company possible. Men who would treat him with the respect and appreciation he knew he deserved, men who were his equals in spite of coming from different backgrounds. He could be part of an order that truly valued chivalry, led by men who were truly honorable. 

Those men could be his brothers… the closest semblance he would have to a real family. 

Ursuline sighed as he gently knocked on the window frame with his fist. He would need to find a way to break the news to Trevor and the Count and he needed to do it soon, before the Remdragon Knights leave within a fortnight. 

He ran his palm over his face, worried about what his father and brother might already suspect although he hadn’t told a soul about his plan. 

Father and Trevor would never agree to it…

Even if they do, by some miracle, Ursuline would still need to convince Commander Evan Triton to give him permission to join; and he would also need to inform the Royal Army and his superiors of his resignation.

Would Elliot and them really vouch for me?... Would Triton even accept me?... What will the Royal Army say about me if I leave? They might say I’m a traitor, a deserter. Would Commander Triton see me as one too?

Ursuline no longer knew where to begin. Discouragement filled his chest and he was now having second thoughts. He could probably will himself to abandon his family, but what if Triton doesn’t accept him as a squire? What would he do then? He’d have no other options.

His jaw clenched when he realized another obstacle to his plan.

What about my betrothal?... 

Ursuline nor his father hadn’t said a word to each other as they both ate lunch in the dining hall. He looked calm and collected, but his head was still a mess. He hadn’t seen Trevor at all since arriving in Drachium yesterday, but he wasn’t about to ask his father where he was. Instead, he saw it as a chance to get his thoughts in order so he could better present his plans to them.

Finally, Razvan cleared his throat. “I take it that you slept well?” he asked without looking up from his plate. “True to my word, I let you rest and ordered the servants to leave you undisturbed until you called for them.”

“I did sleep well. Thank you, Father.”

“Yet you couldn't even keep your end of the bargain...”

Ursuline stopped cutting into his food.

“My orders were simple— attend the ceremony and represent the family accordingly. Did you do it? No. Of course not,” Razvan finally looked at him with disgust. “Rather, I was told that you fawned over that mongrel all evening… Standing up and applauding him like a moron, singing his praises to anyone who would listen.”

“Lies. I only gave Riftan Calypse the recognition he deserved,” Ursuline countered as calmly as possible. “If you had fought alongside him like I have, you’d understand.”

“Don’t speak to me as if you’ve any real experience on the battlefield yet, boy. You’re a squire... You know nothing,” Razvan took a sip of wine and scoffed. “I don’t care how good he is, the man is beneath you! To make matters worse, you even sat at table with him and the rest of the trash, not giving a damn about who would see or hear you… Not giving a damn about how it would reflect on me or your brother! You carry the Ricaydo name! Act like it!”

“Yet, it so happens that the King was pleased with your show of support for that foul-blooded mongrel. In fact, he’s asked to see you today.” Suddenly, a smirk appeared on his father’s lips. “So I will overlook your offense so long as you do exactly what I ask this time…”

Ursuline took a deep breath before looking his father in the eyes. “What is it?”

”You may be wondering why your brother has been absent since your arrival,” he began. “He is currently… collecting himself. He’s created a problem that he can’t seem to fix… I need you to finish it.”

”I don’t understand,” he responded with furrowed eyebrows.

Razvan wiped his mouth with the linen napkin then stood up. “Come with me.”

He led Ursuline to the servants’ quarters. Two guards stood in front of one of the corridors, and moved to let them pass. Then, the Count opened one of the bedroom doors where Ursuline saw Gilbreth tending to an unconscious woman on the bed. It was the servant whom Ursuline had run into over a year ago. 

 “Has she awoken at all?” he asked the old mage. 

“No, Milord. Her injuries are stable, but only time will tell if she will regain consciousness or not—”

”What happened to her?” Ursuline interrupted, stepping forward.

”Young master?” Gilbreth asked in surprise, looking incredibly tired. “You’ve returned! She—“

Before he could say anymore, Razvan shut the door.

“Not here,” he whispered. 

Ursuline followed him out of the servants’ quarters and to his private study where he instantly felt uncomfortable upon entering its heavy double doors. The only time he had ever seen the inside of his father’s office was when Trevor would discipline him with a belt as a child. Oddly, nothing seemed to have changed. The desk that he used to hold on to as his brother whipped his backside with the thick leather was still in the middle of the room with the same quill tray and inkwells, the same ornate lamps, and brass knight figurines. Tucked against the desk was the same large oak chair with the cushion. 

Being in the room sent shivers down his spine, and although he knew that he wasn’t brought there to be disciplined, he could feel that he wasn’t going to like what would happen next.

“Sit down,” Razvan ordered after closing the door. “You must listen carefully.”

Ursuline placed himself on the chair near the fireplace. ”What’s going on, Father?”

“Trevor had involved himself with the help,” he grumbled with twisted lips. “I turned a blind eye to his proclivities so long as he was careful about it, but then he got the whore pregnant.” His fists clenched. “Imagine! That woman carrying your brother’s… child!”

”What did you do to her?…” Ursuline prodded under his breath.

”How dare you… What did I do?” he hissed. “This is all your older brother’s doing! All of it! Recklessly planting his seed… Have you any idea what would happen if people were to find out that he fathered that… that abomination?! We’d be the laughing stock at court! It would ruin his reputation! His prospects! It would ruin us!”

“Wait,” he scoffed in disbelief. “Did he hurt her? Is that why she was unconscious?”

“He wanted her to get rid of that thing in her belly, but promised that no harm would come to her,” Razvan replied with scorn. “The whore had bewitched him… He isn't thinking straight."

Ursuline suddenly felt nauseous. 

“Trevor didn’t hurt her. She fell down the stairs while trying to flee… The child is gone.” He sighed, sounding relieved. “Still… she’s a liability.”

“…”

“She must not awaken… There can be no trace of your brother’s mistakes… What if she talks?” he muttered. “No. It’s too risky.”

“What are you saying?” 

Razvan quickly approached him and gripped his jaw with his large hand. “You really are that stupid, aren’t you?! Must I break everything down in order for you to comprehend what I need from you?!" he asked angrily. "I want you to kill her!”

“Wh-What?” Ursuline’s blood ran cold. 

“Prove your worth and loyalty to this family and help me fix this! Quickly and quietly.”

He couldn’t believe his ears. His father, the honorable and irreproachable Count Razvan Ricaydo, beloved and admired by the nobles of Drachium, had just asked him to commit murder to cover for his favored first-born.

"Do it."

Seeing the look of shock slowly fade from Ursuline’s eyes, Razvan finally loosened his hand and released his face.

“I’m counting on you, Ursuline… My son. You must succeed before Trevor returns. Find a way to be alone with that woman and do it then. It will be our secret. He’ll never find out it was you...”

Ursuline couldn’t understand what he was feeling at that very moment. Unable to muster a reply, he slowly stood up and tidied his hair and clothes. He stared at his father, his face devoid of any emotion. 

Finally, he spoke up. “Where is Trevor now?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. Just resolve this.”

Ursuline left the office without another word. 

He walked down the empty hall, back to his bedchambers. Reflecting on their conversation, it all finally sunk in.

You vile bastard… How could you ask that of your own son?

Ursuline now fully understood that he meant nothing to his father. He was a mere tool. A means to an end. His shameless demand was only the start of the endless dirty-work that he will have Ursuline do in the years to come and he wanted nothing to do with it. He could no longer bear being under the same roof as that wicked guileful swine, let alone the same room. A titled gentleman, a former knight who was highly decorated. Underneath it all, he was nothing but a selfish coward.

Then, he thought of Trevor. The man who had tormented him for years. The one who made sure that he grew up to be a man of honor, chivalry and integrity… Most of all, a man of virtue. 

Their hypocrisy was suffocating. 

When he reached his bedchambers, Ursuline swung the door open and kicked it closed. He began to chuckle as he thought more about Trevor and the Count, and before he knew it, he was laughing out loud. 

Soon, his voice began to crack and moments later, he slumped against the door, weeping. 

His upbringing, his entire life, had been nothing more than a cruel joke. He had spent years pleasing his family, deluding himself that perhaps, it was for the best. He had been preparing and proving himself worthy to serve, ironically, the most worthless men to ever walk the face of the earth. 

No more. It ends today…

He sat up and wiped his face with his palms, promising himself that this would be the first and last time he would ever shed tears over the likes of them. He was a man now and he needed to act like one.

Ursuline stood up and walked over to the mirror. There, he stared at an unfamiliar reflection. Disheveled hair, reddened and slightly swollen eyes. 

Never again...

He took a towel and poured water on it, then cleaned his entire face. He combed his hair and straightened his clothes. He took deep breaths and patted his cheeks. Then, he made his way back to the servants' quarters where Gilbreth was still tending to the injured servant.

“Are you alright, young master?” the old mage asked with concern.

“Yes.”

He proceeded to ask the old man about any knowledge he had regarding Trevor’s relationship with the servant woman and how her injury occurred. 

He learned that her name was Merian and that Trevor had taken a special liking to her which eventually led to a brief romantic relationship. When the servant tried to end things, he was offended and had forced himself on her on several occasions. Whispers among the staff who were loyal to the Count led to him finding out about her pregnancy. When he informed Trevor, he insisted that he find a way to get rid of the child, to which his brother agreed. However, he wanted to keep Merian in the Ricaydo household. This led to a terrible disagreement between him and Razvan, which was what Ursuline had partially heard upon his arrival yesterday.

“How did she get hurt?” he asked.

“She tried to leave the property, but fell down some steps… Unfortunately, because of the injury, she lost the baby.”

“She left a husband and a child to work here... Is that correct?”

“It is.”

“Find out where they live, Gilbreth. Be discreet and tell no one of our conversations… Do you understand?"

“You have my word, but what do you intend to do, young master?” the mage asked fearfully. “I hope that the Count has not involved you in any of this…”

Ursuline shook his head and smiled bitterly. “Don’t worry about a thing, old man. I have a plan, but I'll need your help.”

“Of course.”

“For now, I need to go to Drachium Palace… The King needs to see me. I’ll be back later this evening.”

“Will there be anything else?”

“If she wakes, tell no one. Have her pretend to be asleep, if needed… Her safety depends on it.”

The old man looked at him suspiciously. “Is everything alright, Master Ursuline?”

“It will be. That’s a promise.”

The old man nodded.

Ursuline turned and walked towards the door. 

“And Gilbreth,” he added before opening it. “I haven’t told the Count or Trevor yet, but… I’ve decided to join the Remdragon Knights.”

“Young master?…”

“I just wanted you to be the first to know.”

Chapter Text

Ursuline wiped his palms on his trousers as he nervously sat in one of the large drawing rooms inside Drachium Palace. He thought hard of what he would say, playing possible conversations and scenarios in his head when the doors behind him suddenly opened and King Reuben entered with a few attendants and a scribe. 

He stood up and bowed. “Good afternoon, Your Majesty.” 

The attendants scattered around the room while the king made his way to the plush sofa across from him. The scribe took a seat at the desk in the corner and began writing on the stack of parchment he came in with. 

“You came sooner than I expected, Ursuline Ricaydo.” the King remarked as Ursuline sat back down. “You returned from a year-long mission yesterday, then attended the knighting ceremony. You even stayed long after the banquet was over.”

Ursuline was surprised by the King’s words. He didn’t get a chance to greet him properly due to the number of important guests who crowded the royal family. How did he know all those details about him? 

Seeing the look of surprise on his face, King Reuben smiled. “I’m well informed regarding my subjects… especially those whom I like.”

“I’m flattered, Your Majesty…”

“And those whom I don’t.”

Ursuline chuckled lightly, hiding his anxiousness. “Well, I do hope I’m the former, Sire.”

The King didn’t answer. Instead, he signaled for an attendant to serve him wine.

“Would you care for some?”

Ursuline gently shook his head. “No, thank you.”

“Then, let’s get on with it, shall we?... I wanted to speak to you about my daughter.”

Feeling even more nervous, Ursuline cleared his throat. “What can I do for you and the Princess?” 

“I want you to resume instructing her on swordsmanship.”

“Of course,” he responded. 

“Agnes has been nagging me about it since we learned that you were returning.”

Ursuline’s eyes slightly widened. “Pardon me for asking, but did Her Grace not continue her lessons while I was away? I was assured that my replacement would be a seasoned knight who would be suitable to train her.”

The King scoffed. “Agnes has done nothing but complain about your replacement being subpar…” He took a sip of wine. “All fourteen of them.”

Ursuline cocked his head back. “Fourteen?” 

King Reuben rolled his eyes, then looked at the scribe. “Tell this young man the names of all of Agnes’ instructors.”

The old scribe flipped through his parchment and began reading the names of several knights, all exceptional swordsmen who had even taught Ursuline at some point. 

He had an inkling that the princess was just being difficult as she had expressed her annoyance at his lack of empathy about her having to work with someone new once he left. 

“Why are you so worried? You could learn so much more from a senior knight.”

“You idiot,” she pouted. “You think I don’t know that? Can’t I just be sad about you leaving? I’ve gotten so… so used to you.”

But Ursuline didn’t share her sentiment. He knew she would be in good hands. Also, he was eager to leave Drachium; eager to be away from Trevor and his father for as long as possible. 

“I’m sorry that she found none of them acceptable. I’d be honored to teach her again.”

“Good,” the King sighed. “I understand that your time is valuable, especially with what the remainder of your training demands… so I owe you a favor. Also, I want you to know that I’ll be recommending that they offer you a good position immediately after knighthood. I’m well aware of all your talents, efforts, and contributions, especially this past year.”

Seeing an opportunity, he decided to take a chance and present his case.

“About that, Your Highness… Actually, I do have a request.”

King Reuben raised an eyebrow. “Well… That was quick. You’re not one to dally, are you?”

Ursuline felt his cheeks slightly flush, but he was resolved to accomplish what he came for.

“So let’s hear it.”

He took a deep breath and spoke firmly. “I would like to join the Remdragon Knights, Sire.”

The scribe stopped writing and looked at them.

“You want to leave the Royal Army?…” King Reuben reiterated.

“Yes, Your Highness… But I have yet to ask Commander Triton if he’ll accept me as a squire.”

He stared at Ursuline quizzically.  “Are you asking me to vouch for you?” 

“No… I mean, you could... But that isn’t what I’m asking…” he mumbled.

The King sighed impatiently and leaned back on the couch. “Then what is it that you want exactly?”

Ursuline took another deep breath to calm his nerves. “Pardon me for not being clear, Your Majesty. I don’t need you to vouch for me… I plan on convincing Commander Triton to let me join his order all on my own. What I ask is for you to fully and openly support my decision to become a Remdragon Knight.”

“I don’t understand.” A dry chuckle escaped his lips. “First of all, you don’t need my permission or support to join another order… But more importantly, you are the best squire in the entire Royal Army. You’ll have a promising career there… Why on earth would you want to leave before you even begin?”

For a split-second Ursuline thought about telling the King the truth behind his decision— his admiration for Riftan, especially during the knighting ceremony; his need to pursue his own ambitions; and his desire to escape the clutches of his brother and father. However, he quickly realized that he needed to be objective about his approach. He didn’t want to sound like a man driven by emotions. If he were to have any chance of convincing the King of Wedon to grant his bizarre request, he would have to give him a compelling reason.

Luckily, he had already thought of a few… One that was plausible and another that was favorable.

“I believe I’ll better reach my potential as a Remdragon Knight, Your Highness.”

“How so?”

“I am told that they rank their leaders based on skill, not by years served or by popularity. I may be the best squire in the Royal Army, but the Remdragon Knights have the most skilled men I have ever encountered… I must work with the best so I can strive to be the best. Only then will I earn the right to be called as such… Also, I want to show my loyalty to the crown by joining an order that only answers to you… An order that carries out your special missions…”

The King’s eyes lit up with intrigue at his words.

“With me as a Remdragon Knight, not only will I continue to thrive… But you'll also be assured that you have a loyal servant among their ranks.”

There was silence for a moment. 

All Ursuline could hear was the scratching of the scribe's quill against the parchment which only fed his anxiety. He felt beads of sweat forming on his neck.

Finally, the King spoke up.

“Alright… I shall grant what you ask, Ursuline Ricaydo.”

Quietly, he exhaled with relief. “Thank you, Your Majesty. You have my gratitude.”

“The best of the best, eh?... I’ll have to agree with you there.”

Ursuline smiled politely.

King Reuben stood up, getting ready to leave and Ursuline followed suit. “You mentioned that the Remdragon Knights rank their leaders based on skill… I’m guessing that you’ve heard about what happened to Nathaniel Abell?”

Ursuline knitted his brows. “I have not, Your Highness.”

“The Royal Army just lost their third-in-command. Weeks ago, word was sent that he was killed in battle." He scoffed. "Abell was a solid candidate for the position… He should’ve gotten it, in my opinion, but Commander Sera appointed that Valerian Creed instead.”

Perhaps it was the reason why Sir Abell looked angry during the ceremony. He had no idea that his superior had vied for the position, but if any of the senior Royal Knights deserved the promotion, it was definitely him. Still, Ursuline wasn't surprised. Politics over competence. Even his family would use it to their advantage... Trevor made that clear a long time ago.

“Anyway,” the king continued. “If you’ll soon be leaving with Triton and his men, then I’ll be getting the short end of the stick… My daughter will hardly have any lessons with you.”

“If you wish, the Princess can restart her training tomorrow. We may not have long, but I’ll do my best with her… I also promise to train with Her Grace at any appropriate opportunity.”

“Fair enough,” King Reuben sighed.

“Thank you again, Your Highness. Now, if you’ll please excuse me… I must find Commander Triton.”

Chapter Text

“Was the food to your liking?”

Ursuline looked at the barmaid with furrowed eyebrows. “What?” 

She pointed at his almost empty plate. 

Quickly, he moved his eyes away from her.  “It was fine,” he said flatly, hoping that she would pick it up and walk away. 

The woman had been trying to make conversation with him ever since he sat down. He thought that, perhaps, if he ordered some food and ale, she would have the sense to let him eat in silence and leave him alone, but to his frustration, she had done the opposite. She came to check on him every few minutes, interrupting him as he watched a small group of patrons from across the room. 

“You’ve barely touched your ale, handsome,” she purred. Then, she leaned in with a hand on the table. 

Ursuline jumped slightly at the sensation of her breasts touching his arm.

“Do you want to take the rest of your drink upstairs?... I could bring it up for you,” she asked suggestively.

He inched away from her. “I don’t have a room upstairs.”

“I can get us one,” she responded, leaning in even closer. 

“Please…” he winced, pushing back on his chair. “I’m not interested.”

“Oh, don’t be so dull. I promise to show you a good time.” She smiled and reached out to touch his hair, but Ursuline caught her wrist to stop her.

He looked at her sternly. “I will not say it again,” he said firmly before letting her go. “I’m not interested.”

The barmaid scoffed and finally took his plate. “Suit yourself,” she grumbled before walking away.

Annoyed that he had to resort to scolding the woman, he shook his head and sighed. Ursuline, then, returned to watching Sir Evan Triton and a few Remdragon Knights eat and drink in the far end of the room. He waited for a good while before they finished and everyone left except for the Commander. 

As Ursuline readied himself to approach, Triton suddenly looked at him with a dubious expression. He pursed his lips and motioned for him to come over with a tilt of his head.

Ursuline walked to him, carefully pacing his steps to avoid appearing too eager. 

“Good evening, Sir Triton,” he greeted as he sat down opposite him.

“I could spot you a mile away… Why are you following me?” He looked at Ursuline’s feet. “And the next time you want to be inconspicuous, lose the expensive boots and try not to look so dapper.”

“I figured you would notice me, Sir, “ he replied, unfazed. “I just didn’t want everyone else to.”

Ursuline wore a simple dark tunic and trousers underneath a cheap cloak to try and blend in with the commoners and mercenaries. He had purchased the clothes in the marketplace after learning where Evan Triton was headed. 

“Alright,” Triton chuckled. “So why go through all this trouble just to talk to me?... We could be having his conversation at the training grounds or at the palace.”

“I needed to speak with you in private.”

“About what?” 

“I’ll be direct, Sir Triton,” Ursuline began with a hint of confidence after his conversation with the King. “I’ve come to ask to join your order.”

Triton looked at him incredulously. “You wish to become a Remdragon Knight?”

“Yes.” 

Triton drank the rest of his ale, then had a passing barmaid fetch him some more.

“And why is that?”

“I’m good with a sword. I work hard and I’m diligent. I’d make a good addition to your order… ”

Triton leaned back on his chair. “Are you trying to sound humble?... That doesn’t exactly sound convincing.”

Ursuline’s brows curled inward. “I am Ursuline Ricaydo, Sir… Need I go into detail about my skills and my reputation in the Royal Army?”

“Ah,” the man snorted. “There it is.”

“What?...”

“That arrogance… You sound just like your father and brother.”

Ursuline frowned. “Is it wrong to take pride in one’s accomplishments and know their talents?” he asked sourly. “In any case, I’m not like them.”

“And how, exactly, are you different?” Triton asked with a scoff. “I’m well aware of your skills and reputation, Ursuline Ricaydo… Long before we even met. And for weeks, Elliot Charon wouldn’t stop talking about what you all did during the raids. Lachzion, Nirtha, and Calypse also had good things to say about you, even that listless mage of ours… Still, I can’t help but be suspicious of your motives for wanting to join.” He took a sip of ale. “The top squire of the Royal Army suddenly wanting to become a Remdragon Knight?… A Ricaydo deviating from family tradition?...”

“...”

“I’m dying to know,” Triton added. “How did your father react when he learned of your intentions?”

Ursuline sighed. “He doesn’t know of my plans… Not yet. I wanted to get your permission first.”

“Even if I agree, what makes you think that Razvan Ricaydo would?

He looked the Commander dead in the eye. “Because I have the King’s blessing to join the Remdragon Knights, and he promised to fully and openly support me… My family won’t have a choice but to do so as well.”

“Smart… Cunning… I’ll give you that.” A smirk appeared on Triton’s lips. “Still, everyone will think I poached you…”

“Then, I will rectify that misconception… Once you accept me, I will make sure everyone knows that it is I who approached you.”

Triton took a deep breath. “The Remdragon Knights are composed of commoners, mercenaries… and a handful of nobles who accept and know their place in the order.” He drank the rest of his ale and set the tankard on the table with a pensive look on his face. “I don’t care who you are or what your name is… or if you have King Reuben’s support. I only care about true honor... Do you have that?”

“...”

“So I will ask you one more time… Tell me... In all honesty, why do you wish to become a Remdragon Knight?”

By then, all his confidence had left him. Ursuline had hoped that his reputation would work in his favor, but Evan Triton was, evidently, not a man who is easily impressed. Why did he even assume that he would be, especially with Riftan Calypse already part of the order?

Fearing that any other explanation would leave Triton unconvinced, no matter how brilliant, Ursuline decided to speak from the heart.

“Someone once told me that nobles will always be prejudiced against those beneath them. That sometimes, we have reason to, but that a good knight looks past one’s station to see their true value…”

He went on to reveal something that he had never said out loud. 

“Those words made me realize that my ideals no longer aligned with the Royal Army or my family’s. In fact, I don’t think they ever did…”

“...”

“I’ve lived by those words for the past year, starting with the day I met Gabel Lachzion and we sparred here in Drachium. Our encounter further changed my view on things. It changed how I gauge people… Then, I had the privilege to work with your other knights and squires and in spite of our differences, our backgrounds… I felt like I belonged.” 

“To become a Remdragon Knight would allow me to fully embody that creed,” he sighed. “I may carry the Ricaydo name, the Ricaydo blood, but believe me when I say that I’m different…"

Triton continued to stare at him, his face now expressionless.

"Your men saw something exceptional in me… Why can’t you?”

After a moment, he finally spoke. “I’m glad to know that some of my lessons stuck with Nathaniel Abell even after all these years…”

Ursuline cocked his head back. “Those were your words?…”

“It was the last thing I told my squire before I left to join the Remdragon Knights…”

A faint smile appeared on Triton’s lips. “There was a time when I was a highly decorated knight in the Royal Army but, like you… I realized that my beliefs didn’t align with the order… With what they needed from me.”

Ursuline marveled at the surprising revelation. 

Suddenly, the events of the past year, good and bad, starting with the day he helped Caleb Hurst and almost got expelled for it, all had a purpose. They were all precursors for the culmination of this very moment that would decide if he would, indeed, be given the opportunity to change his fate and become a Remdragon Knight. 

Another long moment of silence ensued before Commander Triton spoke again. 

“Very well, Ursuline Ricaydo. I accept you as a squire of the Remdragon Knights.”

Ursuline stood up and held out his hand, trying to control his elation. “Thank you, Commander Triton…”

They shook hands.

“I’ll be expecting you at the training grounds at dawn the day after tomorrow.”

“I’ll be there, Sir.” 

“Until then, I’ll refrain from making any announcements… I’ll give you a chance to tell your family and the Royal Knights first.”

Ursuline nodded eagerly.

“Welcome to the order of the Remdragon Knights.”

Chapter Text

Ursuline left the tavern with a rather strange feeling of anxiety, hope, trepidation, excitement, and a sense of control all at once.

He got on his horse and looked up at the evening sky. As soon as he did, something bright quickly passed between the stars. It was so clear even against the light of the full moon, and although the spectacle lasted only for a second, he knew it was a good omen. 

He smiled, optimistic that everything would continue to fall into place. Even if his family, his superiors in the Royal Army, and the Parans will be against him leaving to join the Remdragon Knights, they would have no choice but to accept it. He felt quite proud of himself. Finally, he had outwitted Razvan and Trevor Ricaydo and was two steps ahead of them for once.

But then, he remembered something. 

“Is everything alright, Master Ursuline?”

“It will be. I promise.”

Ursuline’s smile instantly dropped to a frown. 

How will I be able to help that woman now?…

Even if Gilbreth didn’t fully understand what he had meant when they spoke earlier, he had given him his word. 

He chastised himself in his mind for being careless and forgetting that he still needed to save Merian from his father. He asked Gilbreth to find out where her family was so he could arrange for her to be secretly reunited with them. Then, he was going to send them as far away from Drachium as possible, safe from Trevor and the Count. 

How would he be able to pull it off now with less than two days before everyone’s attention is on him? At this rate, it would take a miracle; an act of God to accomplish his plan. He shook his head, then gently kicked his horse and made his way home. As he rode, he racked his brain for a new solution, but nothing feasible came to mind.

Should I ask Caleb to help?... 

Realizing the possible consequences for his cousin if anyone found out that he was involved in helping the servant escape, he quickly changed his mind. 

What about Elliot and Gabel?... Maybe Riftan or Hebaron? They were mercenaries so they probably know of ways I can get her out of here.

He was sure that one of them would be willing to aid him if he asked, but something about it didn’t feel right. 

I can’t put them in jeopardy. This isn’t their problem. What kind of person would I be if I asked them to get involved?

As he passed a dark alley, he noticed something suspicious from the corner of his eye. 

Quickly, he whipped his head towards the commotion and saw a well-dressed middle-aged man and a woman surrounded by three hooded figures in dark cloaks. 

“I know you have money! Give us what we want and we’ll make it quick and painless,” one of them said. “Refuse and we’ll cut off your tongues first!”

Upon seeing Ursuline from a distance, the man called to him fearfully. “Help us!... Please!” 

The situation he had come across was unexpected and unwelcome, but he knew he couldn’t just leave. He had to do something. 

Ursuline dismounted and tied the horse’s reins tightly to a nearby post.

Suddenly, the robber struck the man and he fell to the ground. “Asking for help, you bastard!” Then, he and the others turned to Ursuline.

“Let them go,” he ordered calmly.

“And why would we do that?”

“If you do, I’ll turn around and leave. We’ll forget this ever happened.” 

One of them began to laugh. “You hear that, boys?... This one has got to be drunk or just fucking stupid.”

Ursuline sized up the three robbers while the woman attended to the injured man who slowly sat up. 

“Please, Sir,” she begged him. “Help us.”

“We can’t let him leave… He’s seen our faces,” the last hooded man said before pulling out a large dagger, prompting the others to brandish theirs. “Kill him!”

With that, they rushed towards Ursuline. 

His body tensed as he watched all three men charge. He disarmed the first by breaking his wrist, then, he threw him against the wall. The two others attacked Ursuline from each side, but he dodged their knives, and instead, pushed one man’s knife into the other’s gut. As he writhed in pain, Ursuline yanked him and smashed his face into a barrel. Finally, he grabbed the last man and landed several punches on his face and torso before he fell to the ground.

It was one man against three armed robbers. Still, Ursuline was too fast and too strong for them.

“Let’s go! Fuck this!” the leader yelled to the other two as he guarded his broken wrist. “Hurry up!”

One grabbed the other who was bleeding on the ground. “You’re a dead man!” he yelled to Ursuline as he picked up his dagger.

“Have you not had enough? If you don’t get help, your friend will be the one who’s dead,” he retorted, wiping his hands on his pants and catching his breath.  

With that, the three men scurried away.

Knowing that there were still guards patrolling the area even at night, he placed two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly. 

That ought to draw someone’s attention…

Ursuline didn’t have time to stay and wait for help to come, neither did he want to be seen so as to avoid anyone recognizing him. Quickly, he walked over to the man and woman to check on them. “Are you both alright?”

“Yes. Thank you, kind sir,” the woman answered nervously. “Had you not been here, we’d surely be dead.”

Ursuline reached into his boot and pulled out the dagger that he had tucked inside. “Take this,” he said, handing it to the man. “In case they come back. Someone should be arriving to help you soon.”

“What is your name?” he asked.

“It’s not important.”

“Well, let us pay you, at least… We have money, but you’ll have to follow us back to the inn to get it. We left it with our steward.”

“It’s not necessary,” Ursuline insisted. “I must go.” He nodded to them and began to walk back to his horse.

“Wait!” the man yelled. “We are merchants returning to Osiriya. We sell the finest clothes of all kinds. Leathers, silks, brocades, you name it! There has to be something we can offer you!”

He halted his steps and quickly turned around. “You’re going to Osiriya?...”

The man and woman nodded.

“When?”

“We leave tomorrow morning.”

Suddenly, an idea hit him. He could, at least, get Merian out of Wedon by tomorrow, then worry about finding her family afterwards. He’ll figure something out for that. 

“Can you take someone with you?” he asked. 

“For you? Absolutely. As many as you want.”

Ursuline thought for a moment. 

Maybe this isn’t the best idea. 

“How can I be assured that your journey will be safe when you nearly lost your heads here in Drachium?”

The man cleared his throat. “That was my fault. I insisted on exploring the marketplace without proper guards… Tomorrow, we will have paladins escorting us from here all the way to Balbourne. We supply the special linens and cloths used by the Pope.”

”…”

Noticing the slight worry on Ursuline’s expression, he stood up. ”We owe you our lives. Whoever it is that you want us to take on our journey will be safe... I don’t care who they are. As far as anyone is concerned, they now work for me. Once we’re in Balbourne, I’ll send them on their way with the proper provisions. You have my word.”

A faint hopeful smirk appeared on Ursuline’s lips. “Alright. Show me where you’re staying… I’ll take you back there myself.”

Ursuline quietly entered the servant’s room and closed the door.

“Young master?” Gilbreth greeted as he tiredly stood up from the chair next to Merian’s bed.

“Sit,” he insisted. “We can talk while you rest.”

The old mage nodded and sat back down. “She woke up shortly after you left. We spoke a little, but I had to cast sleep on her before your father returned.”

“What did she tell you?”

Gilbreth looked at him, hesitant to speak. 

“Do you trust me, Gilbreth?” Ursuline asked. “I won’t hurt her, I promise. In fact, I have a plan to get her out of the city.” He sighed.” But I have yet to figure out how to reunite her with her husband and child–”

“There is no husband and child,” the old man interrupted. “Not anymore…”

Ursuline furrowed his eyebrows. 

“That was a story she had maintained in hopes to deter Sir Trevor from making advances at her.”

“What?”

“Merian’s husband and child died in Dristan a while ago… She came here to Drachium to find work and start over, but didn’t have much luck. Apparently, she had resorted to working as a maid at a very discreet brothel outside of the city. It was where she met your brother.”

His face twisted.

“She said Sir Trevor offered for her to work here instead.”

Exactly what was he doing in a brothel?…

“Does he know the truth about her family?”

Gilbreth shook his head. “No. She was afraid she would anger him… We’re the only two who know.”

Ursuline took a deep breath. “Does she know that she lost her child?… Their child….” 

“She does… She is devastated, but thinks that perhaps it was for the best,” the mage replied. 

“She’s probably right,” he muttered.

Gilbreth’s eyes widened. “You can’t possibly mean that.”

“I would have never agreed to killing the child… but the accident? As terrible as it is—,” He closed his eyes and palmed his face. “To have Trevor as its father… The Count as its grandfather… The Ricaydo blood is a curse."

“Young Master–”

“Is she well enough to travel?” he interrupted, changing the subject. “I must get her out of the estate tonight.”

“What?”

“I was able to make arrangements for her discreet transport to Osiriya in the morning. I can give her money that should last her for a while.” Then, he muttered. “It’s not restitution, but it’ll have to do. She'll receive some help there as well.”

”…”

He clicked his tongue. “My main problem lies with how I’ll be able to get her out of here without anyone noticing.” 

“Why are you doing this, Master Ursuline?” Gilbreth eyed him with concern. 

He paused for a moment before a dry scoff left his mouth. “The Count asked me to kill her before Trevor returns… I’m supposed to send you away and do it then.”

“I see…”

“If Razvan thinks I’ve failed, he’ll just have someone else do it… She won’t be safe until she’s out of Wedon.”

”…”

“In less than two days, I’ll be joining the Remdragon Knights,” he added. “Once that happens, the Count will have all his attention on me… Trevor too, when he returns. I won’t be able to move freely then. And I leave Drachium for good within a fortnight... By then, it will really be too late.”

The old mage stared at him.

“You have to help me, Gilbreth... Think.”

“There are secret passages all over this house known only to your Father, brother and myself–”

“No. They can’t know that you aided me. That will put you in danger.”

“I’m an old man… I don’t care what happens to me afterwards.”

“Well, I do!” Ursuline protested in a loud whisper. “And I won’t be here to protect you!”

He calmed himself. “I will not have you taking the fall for something that I chose to do. There’s got to be another way… What about this sleep spell that you cast on her? How long before she wakes from this?”

“You’ll need another mage to break this spell. If you’re trying to be discreet, this method might not work.” Gilbreth thought for a moment. “Instead, I can give her a potion to drink.”

“Isn’t that also magic?”

“No,” he shook his head. “It's a very precise mixture of herbs, young master. I can break the sleep spell, then give her something to slow her heartbeat enough to fool the Count into thinking she’s actually dead. If you can convince him to let you dispose of the body, then he will show you the secret passages himself… There’s an antidote that you can administer when it’s safe.”

“It’s still putting you at risk… What if we get caught?”

Gilbreth scoffed. “Like you’d let that happen.”

”I can’t guarantee—“

“Then I’ll say that you stole the potions from my chambers,” he smiled. “I’ve always had a habit of labeling everything... It used to drive your father and grandfather insane during campaigns. They feared that someone might steal the poisons and use it on them.”

Ursuline couldn’t help but chuckle.

”Go to my chambers. There’s a chest under my bed. Look for a vial that says ‘Death-like Sleep’ and also take the green vial next to it…”

He looked at Gilbreth incredulously. “Shit… You’re serious.”

The mage nodded.

“Alright, old man,” he agreed. “Looks like we have a plan.”

Chapter Text

“I need to move the body,” Ursuline stated plainly as he stared at the floor, avoiding his father’s gaze. “You must send the guards away… Along with any other staff who might be lingering around.” 

Razvan stared at him. “You completed your task?...”

“What do you think?”

“Good." A smirk emerged from his lips. "And how exactly do you plan to dispose of the body?”

Ursuline finally looked him in the eyes. “The less you know, the better...” 

He breathed in slowly and silently. The look of satisfaction on his father’s face absolutely disgusted him, but it was crucial that he didn’t show any emotion if he were to obtain what he needed from him.

“Very well,” he hummed as he stood up and grabbed something from the wardrobe. “There’s another way out of this house.”

Ursuline finally exhaled.

“But first, I want to see her corpse.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. Gilbreth had assured him of the potion’s effectiveness after Merian had willingly taken it, and Ursuline even checked to make sure that her pulse was almost undetectable before dismissing the old man.

He’s not convinced…  

“Fine,” he replied flatly after a moment. “Should I wait for you here while you inspect her?”

Razvan cocked his head back slightly, surprised by Ursuline’s confident response. “No. You’re coming with me.”

They left the sitting room of the Count's chambers and made their way back to the servants’ quarters. As soon as Ursuline opened Merian’s bedroom door, her face came into view. She was almost as white as the sheet that covered her body. He swallowed hard, concerned that the potion had worked too well.

His father walked to the bed and touched her skin, then he moved his hand over to her nose and mouth to feel for breaths. 

Convinced that she was dead, he turned to Ursuline. “The store room at the end of the hall… There’s a small lever underneath one of the shelves that opens the door to a tunnel.”

“…”

“Do you remember where Trevor gave your first lesson in archery?”

He nodded. 

“It leads there.” Razvan then handed him an iron key. “I’ll order the guards to switch on our way out. That way, no one will suspect that you had anything to do with her disappearance. They'll think she escaped.”

Ursuline took two horses to the forest and located the entrance to the secret tunnel that led back to the house. It was a long walk before he reached the door of the store room. Then, he went back to Merian’s chambers and carried her out of the estate. 

He felt uneasy all the while, concerned that his father may have ordered someone to spy on him.

Carefully, he placed Merian on one of the horses, opting not to give her the antidote right away. They were supposed to head straight to the inn where the merchant couple was waiting for them, but Ursuline decided to alter his plan and rode deep into the forest instead. It was only when they arrived at a stream that he finally stopped and administered Gilbreth’s antidote. 

Slowly, Merian began to wake. She sat up, groggy from the effects of the first potion, but came to her senses quickly when she saw Ursuline standing before her with a dagger in his hand. 

She fearfully backed away towards the water as he approached, with tears twinkling under the bright moonlight as they ran down her face. 

“I thought you said you were going to let me escape… I swear on my life, Milord, I’ll never return to Wedon!” she cried. “I don’t understand!... Gilbreth said you wouldn’t hurt me!... I pr-promise! I won’t tell a soul what happened!”

She closed her eyes as Ursuline grabbed her hair.

“Please, Master Ursuline! I’m begging–”

Before she could say anymore, she heard a loud snip. 

Merian opened her eyes. Ursuline was now putting the blade back in its sheath, then he threw her ponytail that he had cut off into the water. 

“W-why did you do that?” she stammered.

“Stop asking questions,” he hissed. “If the Count is having us followed, then we can’t wait till you reach the inn to change into your disguise… And you’ll be more convincing without the long hair.”

He tossed her a sack. “Change your clothes, now. If you don’t hurry, I swear... I will leave you here.”

As he walked back to the horses, Merian hurriedly took the bag and began removing her clothes. In no time, she had changed into the men’s attire that Gilbreth had Ursuline take from his chambers when he acquired the potions. 

After packing her old clothes, she ran to Ursuline and he helped her mount the mare that was tied to his steed. 

"Burn your old garments in a fireplace as soon as you get the chance, do you understand?"

She nodded.

“I’ve never ridden a horse before, Master…”

“Then, you'd better hang on tightly," he warned. "If you fall off, I won’t come back for you.”

Silently, he drove the horses to the inn. After some time, he glanced at Merian who looked convincing enough as a scrawny man, especially with Gilbreth’s worn cloak, boots, and hat. 

“What were my instructions?” he asked her sternly. “We’ll be arriving soon… It’s imperative that you make no mistakes if you are to live through this.”

She stared at him nervously. For such a good looking young man, she found Ursuline terrifying. Although he was helping her, there was no kindness in his tone of speaking whatsoever; and it didn't help that he looked so intimidating. 

“I am to be a male mute named Orwell… Take heed not to remove any articles of clothing unless I am sure that I am alone and I have privacy. Blaine and Elsa Hower are the merchants who hired me as a servant. I am not to leave their side, and I am not to draw any attention to myself.” 

“What else?”

“When we arrive at the inn, I will go inside first and wait in the dining area while you go upstairs to speak to Sir and Madam Hower. After you leave, Sir Hower will come downstairs to fetch me and I am to follow him. He is an older gentleman with a cut on the right side of his lower lip.”

“...”

“He will take me upstairs... Once I am inside one of their rooms, I am to place a lit candle on the window to let you know I am safe… I must do it before sunrise.”

Assured that the servant wasn’t a halfwit, Ursuline sighed with relief. Then, he took his dagger out.

“You'll be on your own once I leave the inn."  He reached over and handed it to her. "Keep it with you at all times."

“Yes, Milord," Merian answered, taking it out of its sheathe to look at it.

“There’s also money in your sack should you ever need it once you reach Balbourne. Take extra care in hiding it.”

Ursuline's brows curled inward when he noticed her still staring at him. "What's the matter?" he asked tersely.

“I don’t know how I could ever repay you...”

“You can’t.” he scoffed. "I just need to you leave and not come back."

She looked down with embarrassment. “You must think I’m some shameless whore… For being with Sir Trevor…”

“Stop it,” he hissed with annoyance.

“But a woman of my station doesn’t have a choice in such things... I tried to refu–”

“I don’t need your explanation,” Ursuline snapped. “You don’t owe me one, and frankly, I don’t care to hear it.”

Merian swallowed hard. “Apologies, Master…”

"And now's the time to stop talking."

She nodded.

After a moment, Ursuline sighed, realizing that he was being too harsh. “What happened to you wasn’t right… I had the means to help so I did.”

“...”

Suddenly, he pulled the horses to a stop. “The inn is just ahead… It’s the one with all the bright lanterns.”

Carefully, Merian dismounted and grabbed the sack. 

“Head straight over there and do as you were told. I’ll follow shortly.”

Merian nodded again as she secured her hat. 

“Thank you, Milord,” she mumbled softly so no one else would hear. “You’re not like them… You’re a good man.” 

Ursuline’s eyes softened as he watched her walk away, then he kicked his horse and took a detour towards the inn. 

After securing the horses, he entered the doors and discreetly searched for Merian in the dining area. When he spotted her sitting alone, trying to blend in, he made his way upstairs and finalized his agreement and instructions with Blaine and Elsa Hower. 

“Will you still not give us your name?” Blaine Hower asked him. 

“I told you, it’s not important,” he replied brusquely. “But I know who you are, and where and how to find you. Should you betray my trust… If anything goes awry, or something happens to Orwell between here and Balbourne, you will pay.”

“You have my word. Your mute will be safe with us until we reach Balbourne… And even then, I’ll be sure to give him whatever he may need.”

Feeling somewhat assured, Ursuline stood up. “He’s downstairs waiting for you.”

He left the inn and waited outside inconspicuously, paying close attention to his surroundings. Luckily, Razvan seemed to have believed their ruse, no one seemed to have followed them after all. After waiting for a good hour, a lit candle finally appeared on the window next to Blaine and Elsa Hower’s room. With that, Ursuline tiredly made his way back home.

Chapter Text

It was still dark by the time Ursuline had returned the horses to the stables. As he entered the house through the main doors, he made sure that he was seen by many of the evening staff and he even passed by the new set of guards that were stationed in the area where Merian was kept. He needed his alibi to be convincing to avoid rousing anyone's suspicion— that he was last spotted leaving the servants' quarters with the Count and didn’t enter the area again for the rest of the night. 

Based on everyone’s demeanor, no one seemed to have noticed yet that something was amiss.

He proceeded to his chambers, then he sat on his bed, letting all the recent events sink in. It was astounding how everything had happened so quickly since he returned to Drachium; how his entire life had practically changed in a blink of an eye. Tomorrow, he will be officially training with the Remdragon Knights and soon, he will be leaving the capital. He will finally be free of Razvan and Trevor. His life, on a different course.

Ursuline sighed and let his back fall to the mattress with his feet still on the floor. 

I still need to tell Razvan and Trevor... and my present superiors. 

He stared at the ceiling, wondering how to go about it. No doubt, they would all be displeased with the incredibly short notice. For his father and brother, displeased would be an understatement.

Should I inform the Count first?

Since he thought Ursuline had actually done what he asked, perhaps he will be more forgiving. And with Trevor gone, there wouldn't be any violence. 

As he mulled over different options and their possible outcomes, his eyes grew heavy and before he knew it, Ursuline fell asleep. 

He suddenly woke to the sounds of voices and hurried footsteps outside of his chambers. He sat up from the bed, rubbing his eyes when someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” he directed. 

It was the head guard, followed by servants who entered with a tub and the usual items that he needed for his morning routine.

“Good morrow, Master Ursuline,” they greeted him. "Pardon the intrusion."

“What’s going on?” he asked tersely. 

“One of the servants has disappeared and your father is having us search the entire property… We need to look around your room.”

"You actually think I would keep a servant in here?...” 

“I’m sorry, but it’s the Count’s orders.”

He glared at the guard. “Then, if you must,” he responded sarcastically and waved his hand. 

The man nodded and motioned for his men to begin searching Ursuline’s bedroom as the servants readied his bath.

“According to our investigation, you and the Count were the last two who saw her in her chambers… She must’ve escaped during the change in shifts.” The guard pulled back the curtains and looked behind the heavy drapes.

The sun's high... Merian and the Hower’s should be well outside of Drachium by now.

“Satisfied?” Ursuline asked the guard sourly. “I’d like to bathe now before the water gets cold.”

“Yes. All clear. Apologies again, Master…” With that, the guards and servants all left.

As soon as the door shut, Ursuline stood up and opened his wardrobe. It would be best to ready his things now and not wait until tomorrow. What if something goes wrong?

He grabbed the large knapsack that he used during long expeditions and began packing. He took his most expensive and comfortable tunics and trousers, and his best boots and placed them in the bottom of the bag; then, he added other necessities, along with a few weapons and valuables that he didn't want to part with. When he finished, he placed the full bag back inside the wardrobe to hide it. Then, he quickly bathed and made his way downstairs to speak to his father over breakfast. 

He was the first to enter the dining room. Feeling famished from his tasks the night before, he didn't bother waiting for his father and dug right into his meal. 

“Will the Count be joining me?” he finally asked one of the servants.

Another one approached him with something in his hand. “No, Master Ursuline, but he wanted you to have this before he left.” He handed Ursuline a folded parchment with the seal already broken.

He unfolded it and read its contents. 

Shit… He already knows.

The message was from King Reuben asking Ursuline to come to the palace that morning for Agnes’ first lesson and congratulating him on his acceptance into the Remdragon Knights. 

“Where is the Count now?” He stood up.

“I don’t know, Milord.”

Ursuline rushed out of the dining room, asking everyone he passed where his father had gone. He needed to find him immediately before he does something to spoil his plans. He was about to leave for the stables when a tired voice called to him.

“Young Master?...”

“Gilbreth!” Ursuline exclaimed. “Where was the Count headed? To the palace?... The training annex?”

“Your father took some guards to search for Merian outside of the property.”

“Are you sure?”

The old mage pulled him aside. “What’s the matter?” he whispered. “Did something go wrong last night?... Is Merian alright?”

“She’s fine. This is the matter!” He shoved the message into his hands. “King Reuben sent this and the Count must’ve read it. He wasn’t supposed to find out this way! I must find him before he does something drastic–”

The mage tightened his feeble grip on Ursuline’s arm. “Calm down, young master.”

“How can I possibly calm down, old man? I haven’t informed Commander Sera or Sir Abell of my resignation!” he hissed in a panic. “Razvan can still undo my transfer!”

“He didn’t see the message.”

“What?”

“The Count was preoccupied with ordering the search so he had me open it and relay what it said.”

Ursuline cocked his head back. 

“I omitted the King’s plaudit... All I told him was that you were being summoned to the palace this morning to train the Princess.”

He sighed with relief.

“But I do suggest that you head to the training grounds now, young master. Best of luck to you."

Ursuline nodded and left.

Commander Sera expressed his disappointment over Ursuline’s decision and accused Evan Triton of poaching him which he made sure to correct. He signed his resignation in front of him and several high ranking knights then proceeded to collect his things from the barracks. On his way out, he stopped at Nathaniel Abell's office to bid him farewell.

“I have my reasons for doing this... And I wish I could say I was sorry, Sir Abell, but I’m not," he mumbled. “May I just say that you were my best mentor here… For that, I am grateful. I shall remember everything I learned from you.”

“Spare me the brown-nosing, Ricaydo. You’re not Lew Cayden.”

Ursuline chuckled softly.

“Listen... I think I know why you resigned– the politics, the favoritism, the cheating… God only knows how many times I wished that I had actually followed Evan Triton the day he left.” He folded his arms. “But I am curious… How did you convince him to actually accept you?”

“What are you talking about?” Ursuline asked, confused.

“You’re not aware of his history with your father?”

“...”

Abell licked his lips. “Sir Razvan was his direct superior when he left to join the Remdragon Knights. Their falling-out over his resignation was so terrible that your father actually attacked him here at the training grounds.”

“What?...”

“Sir Triton held back, of course. He wouldn't dare engage a superior, even a former one. He walked away... Your father, on the other hand, wasn't exactly forgiving."

Ursuline scoffed. 

“He attempted to tarnish the man's reputation at every opportunity, but in the long run, Triton earned the King’s respect and that of many others. It was only then that your father stood down and came their unspoken truce.” Abell’s eyes widened at him. “I find it rather strange that Triton allowed you to join so tell me... How did you do it?”

"He knows how good I am. My reputation preceded me."

"Spoken like a true Ricaydo, but horse shit..."

Ursuline stared at him before he opened his mouth again. 

“I told him that I was different... That in spite of my station, I've learned not to measure a person’s worth through riches or where they come from.”

The knight snorted and chuckled. “Nobles will always be prejudiced against those beneath them. Sometimes, we have reason to…”

Then, Ursuline joined him in saying the rest. “But a good knight looks past one’s station to see their true value.” 

“Using the first lesson I taught you on the very same man who taught it to me,” Abell pursed his lips. “Well-played, Ricaydo... Well-played.”

“But I wasn’t lying, Sir.”

“I know,” Abell smiled bitterly. “I witnessed it during the expeditions. I suspected this might happen when you willingly agreed to be assigned to Nirtha and them for the entire mission.”

"..."

He held out his hand. “Well then..."

Ursuline gripped it and shook it firmly.

“My sincerest congratulations to you, Ursuline Ricaydo. You’ll be an excellent Remdragon Knight."

He nodded, feeling somewhat sad although his face hid it well. 

“Till next time.”

Ursuline bowed then left for Drachium Palace.

“Your Grace,” he greeted Agnes with a bow. "How are you this beautiful morning?"

“Oh, stop with the formalities. It may be the first time we’ve spoken in a year, but you can’t possibly have forgotten how I dislike it when you call me by such titles.”

“I do remember, Your Highness," he replied flatly.

“Do not vex me this morning… I am already angry with you.”

“What is it that I’ve done?” 

A smile finally betrayed Agnes' serious tone. “You’re only instructing me for two weeks, then what?... You pass me off again to some grouchy relic? Sir I-Have-A-Stick-Up-My-Arse?... Sir My-Knees-Hurt?..."

It was unbelievable how much more crass Agnes had become after a year. 

He stifled a soft chuckle. “Then send them away, too, like you did the others,” he retorted. “The King said that you went through fourteen seasoned instructors?… What’s another one hundred?”

Agnes shook her head at him. “I ought to have whipped for your sarcasm.” 

“Ah, forgive me, Your Highness,” he continued to tease her. “Also, how are you so sure that I don't already have a stick up my rear end or that my knees don't hurt?”

“Because your tongue is as sharp as ever... And I know that you don't have a stick up your arse because you’re already a stick in the mud.”

He glared at her and she glared right back. “And I’m afraid you’ll never change, Ursuline Ricaydo.”

“…”

“I think you missed me just as much as I missed you, my friend," she stated as a playful grin appeared on her lips, breaking their silence. “But I will miss you even more when I'm finally in Nornui."

Ursuline didn’t respond, but reciprocated with a faint smile. “So how long before you leave for the World Tower?”

“I’ll be sailing next season. Father keeps trying to delay the inevitable by hiring the best mages he could find as my tutors... But it’s time.” She poked him on his arm. “I heard that before I leave, you’ll already be a knight… A Remdragon Knight.”

He knitted his brows. “How did you know?” he inquired softly.

“Father told me.”

“Does everyone know?...”

Agnes shrugged her shoulders. “But they will, soon enough. Now, stop dallying and let’s begin… You’re wasting what little time we have.”

Ursuline picked up two wooden swords from the stand and tossed one to her which she caught with ease. 

“Alright. Let’s see how much you don’t remember, Princess.”

She rolled her eyes at him before attacking head on.

“Cousin!” 

Ursuline turned around as he made his way to the palace stables to get his horse and head home. “Caleb… What are you doing here?”

“Oi! Why didn’t you say anything?"

His lips twisted. “About what?”

Caleb frowned. “That you joined the Remdragon Knights?!... I'm rather insulted. I tell you every--"

“How did you find out?” Ursuline asked with worry.

“I was permitted to attend Father’s meeting with His Majesty and he mentioned it there.”

He groaned.

“Father and I were shocked... Even Uncle Razvan looked pale with surprise. Did he not know either?”

“Dammit,” Ursuline mumbled before running to the stables.

“Where are you going?” Caleb yelled to him. “We're not done!"

Chapter Text

As soon as Ursuline dismounted his horse and a stablehand took the reins, the head servant approached him.

“You’re needed in the Count’s study, Milord,” she said. “Please proceed there directly.”

Ursuline gave no reaction and made his way inside. He had anticipated that his discussion with Razvan would be unpleasant, but given how he had learned of him joining the Remdragon Knights, it was practical to assume that it would now be even more odious. 

He steeled himself, ready for the harsh scolding and tirade that he imagined as he rushed home from Drachium Palace. 

It doesn’t matter how he reacts… I just want to be done with it.

Finally, he reached the double doors of the study. Ursuline took a deep breath and knocked. 

Upon entering, he was startled by the figure sitting on the couch. 

“Brother…” he muttered, keeping an impassive expression on his face. “You’ve returned.”

His awkward greeting was met with silence. For a moment, Trevor just stared at him, his face equally inscrutable. He had a goblet of wine in one hand and his other arm stretched out to the side, a foot resting on the opposite knee. 

His lack of response was nothing short of unusual and Ursuline grew tense with each passing second. 

“All thanks to you,” he finally responded.

Their father had claimed to be unaware of his whereabouts, but Ursuline could think of two reasons for his brother’s unexpected return– he had either learned of his resignation, or of Merian’s disappearance. 

He controlled a nervous swallow.

“Close the doors and sit down,” Trevor ordered firmly. 

“Where is Father?” Ursuline asked as he took the seat across from him. 

“I sent him away.”

“Why?”

“Shut your mouth.  I’ll be the one asking the questions.”

“...”

Another moment of silence followed before Trevor’s face stiffened with anger. “How could you do something like that?” he hissed. “The betrayal!” 

Ursuline instantly lowered his head and looked at the rug under his boots. His eyes wandered side to side as he tried to compose himself to begin his explanation. The problem was, he didn’t know which deed he was referring to. 

Instinct told him to look up.

With all his years of training, he knew that his current posture left him completely open should Trevor suddenly attack him in a fit of rage. However, he couldn’t move. He’d rather risk being physically vulnerable than have him see the confusion and uncertainty on his face. 

Ursuline chastised himself in his mind for only worrying about the Count. For being complacent. For not considering his brother’s possible return.

“Who knew you had it in you to come up with such a scheme?...”

Finally, he sat up and willed himself to answer. “Well, I did learn from the best...”

The familiar glint of fury finally showed in Trevor’s eyes. “You insolent, ungrateful wretch!” he growled before violently throwing the goblet to the side. “How dare you!”

Ursuline slightly jolted from the crashing sound it made when it hit the brass family crest that hung on the wall. Wine splattered everywhere. 

Trevor looked at him incredulously and huffed. “So you’ve finally grown a pair, is that it?... You were gone for a year, and you've come back a new man?”

Deducing that he was referring to his resignation, Ursuline finally breathed. 

“You went to see His Highness first to secure his support before going to Triton to join that pissant order of his... Then, you resigned from the Royal Army.”

”…”

”You must be proud of yourself,” he continued with sarcasm. “You knew damn well what position your actions would put us in… That neither Father nor I would be able to refuse at this point.” His lips twisted as he clapped his hands softly. “Bravo, little brother!” he sneered. “You’re not as stupid or docile as we thought!”

Ursuline’s brows curled inward at Trevor’s insulting gesture.

“I imagine you planned this meticulously while you were away?...”

“I didn’t. It all happened by chance,” he replied defensively.

“Really?” he scoffed.

“It’s true.”

“Hogwash,” Trevor snorted, leaning back. He shook his head with irritation. “The King is pleased with your unconventional show of support for him and for his decision to knight that filthy mongrel… He’s now convinced that the Ricaydo’s are truly his allies…”

“Then, it works in you and Father’s favor.”

Trevor glared at him icily. “How do you think it makes us look to every other noble family in the capital? In all of Wedon, for that matter?...”

“...”

Trevor palmed his face. “Father wants me to find a way to undo your resignation and end this farce… Pin it all on Triton… Make people believe that he poached you during the knighting ceremony and convinced you to gain King Reuben’s support to join them–”

“Sir Evan Triton is an honorable man,” Ursuline interrupted with conviction. “It was all my doing… The King and Commander Sera are aware, along with Sir Abell and several other high ranking knights who witnessed my resignation from the Royal Army.”

Trevor looked at him with disgust.

“The truth is that I had been considering joining the Remdragon Knights for months… However, I didn’t come to my decision to ask to join them until yesterday morning,” Ursuline added.

“Is that so?...” Trevor sneered. He joined his hands together and leaned forward.  “Was that before or after Father asked you to kill Merian?” he whispered.

Ursuline’s face paled.

“Well?...”

“...”

“Did you really think he would keep something like that from me?... He told me what you did.”

Slowly, Ursuline’s face became expressionless. He steeled himself once more, readying himself for what might come next. His jaw clenched when he recalled the Count’s words.

‘It will be our secret. He’ll never find out it was you…’

That two-faced coward… Switching sides when it serves him. 

“Father said you showed him her corpse, then you left the estate with her through the tunnel hidden in the store room, undetected.”

Ursuline wanted to tell him the truth, but was unwilling to put Merian back in harm’s way just to prove him wrong. 

I can’t risk Gilbreth getting involved either… 

He also feared that it would, somehow, affect everything else that he had managed to accomplish in the last two days. 

Deadlocked between revealing what actually happened, and letting Trevor believe that he had, indeed, killed Merian, he could think of only one response. 

“You can’t prove that I did anything… Neither can he.” 

Trevor narrowed his eyes at him while Ursuline proudly held his gaze. 

His words sounded like a confession, but he knew the truth, and it didn’t matter what his father or brother thought. No matter how convoluted the situation had become, he clung to the fact that he hadn’t committed any crime. 

“You can’t use this against me… or control me,” he added. “I will be joining the Remdragon Knights whether you and Father like it or not.” He hesitated before continuing calmly. “And if either of you try anything to jeopardize that, I’ll have no qualms using what I know against either of you.”

“You dare threaten me, little brother?” Trevor goaded.

“No. It’s not a threat… It’s a promise.”

Another long pause ensued and Trevor’s demeanor calmed.

“Did you agree to what Father asked so he’d let you leave?” 

“What?…”

“Did you do it for leverage?!”

“So I could be a Remdragon Knight?” Ursuline clarified with a scowl. “No…”

Using it as an advantage only crossed his mind after leaving Merian with the Hower’s; when he was debating whether he should talk to Razvan or Commander Sera first.

“So what was the reason?”

Because doing nothing would make me just as culpable as you and the Count… 

He sighed. “It doesn’t matter.”

Trevor pursed his lips. Then, he got up and walked to the window. For a while, he just stood there as if he were in deep thought. “I will allow you to leave and join the Remdragon Knights,” he declared as he looked out. “I’ll pacify Father and convince him it’s for the best.”

Ursuline suspiciously watched him. “I don’t understand…”

Finally, Trevor looked at him. “I know you didn’t kill her…”

“...”

“Gilbreth told me that you stole the potions he kept in his chambers. She was nearly dead when you snuck her out of here, but you had the means to bring her back to life.”

Ursuline looked down, biting his lip in frustration at the old mage’s disregard for his own safety. 

“Your so-called freedom for her life… We’re even now.”

He swallowed hard. “And what of Gilbreth?... What will you do to him?”

Trevor raised an eyebrow. “You think me a complete monster?”

Ursuline decided not to prod further, convinced that Gilbreth would remain unharmed.

“You took away the only woman I ever cared about… But at least she’s safe from Razvan Ricaydo,” he mumbled.

Ursuline frowned. How could he do those things to someone he cared about?

“Still, there’s a price to pay for your deception.” 

Of course there is…

Trevor tilted his head towards the window to signal him to approach. As soon as he did, Ursuline’s eyes widened and his mouth fell slightly agape at the sight of the commotion below.

He watched the servants toss several items into a fire pit in the garden— all of his belongings were being burned. The last thing that was thrown into the fire was the knapsack that he had prepared that very morning, along with the weapons that he had placed inside it. 

“You will leave here with nothing but your horse and the clothes on your back,” Trevor stated plainly. “And you will finish your training by your own means…”

“...”

“You will not receive a single coin from me or Father unless you prove that you’re still of use to us after you are knighted and officially become part of the muck ... You want to join the peasants?... Then you will live like one.”

Ursuline looked at him with disbelief.

“The King shall never know of the rift you’ve caused, nor will the other nobles… But let this be a reminder of the tear you caused in the fabric of our family. Only time will tell if it can still be mended,” he added. “Now, leave,” Trevor ordered without sparing him a final glance. 

Ursuline walked out of the study in silence and headed back to the stables. 

Frustrated, he wanted to punch something and yell. Why did Trevor always have the last word? Why couldn’t he ever outsmart him completely?... Why couldn’t Ursuline win, just this once?

To add insult to injury, his brother had destroyed everything he owned, and practically thrown him out of their family home. What was he to do once he set foot at Drachium Palace where the Remdragon Knights were staying, and returned to the training annex with his new order empty-handed? He didn't have one spare tunic or a weapon to his name. How would he, Ursuline Ricaydo, explain himself?

He never carried large sums of coins anywhere unless it was necessary, and anything he ever needed were paid for by Trevor in advance. He would have nothing until after he was knighted and completed his first mission. 

When he entered the stables, he found Gilbreth sitting on a haystack.

“What are you doing here, Old Man?” he asked with a deeper frown. 

The old mage smiled at him bitterly. “I’ve come to say farewell, Young Master.”

Ursuline sighed with amusement and irritation. “Why did you do it?... Why did you tell Trevor?”

“It worked out in your favor, did it not?...”

“...”

“In spite of what he’s done, Sir Trevor seems to hold some genuine affection for poor Merian… At least he knows you’re innocent of any crime–”

“You can’t keep doing this, Gilbreth,” Ursuline cut him off. “You can’t keep saving me… Helping me.”

“I did no such thing, Young Master… I've said it before and I'll say it again. Things just have a way of working themselves out.”

He shook his head in resignation. “You’re always too optimistic, Old Man…”

Gilbreth stood up and walked to him slowly. “I saw what happened in the garden,” he muttered as he patted Ursuline on the shoulder. “This is for you.”  He took Ursuline’s hand and placed a bag of coins in his palm. 

Curious, he opened the pouch, surprised to find it full of coins of high value. Ursuline pulled the strings and closed it up. “Absolutely not… I can’t accept this. I’ll figure something out," he sighed handing it back to him.

“You must.”

“No.”

“I insist… It’s not like I have any use for it at my age.”

Knowing that it could provide everything he needed in order to finish his squire’s training, and hold him over long after, Ursuline relented. “I’ll pay it all back with interest… I promise. It may take a while, but I will return it.”

“Oh, stop with that nonsense… Besides, I may be long dead by then. You’re joining the Remdragon Knights… They’re not exactly known for wealth and riches,” Gilbreth responded with a chuckle. “Do you plan to reimburse me with chivalry and honor?”

Ursuline glared at his flat attempt to improve his mood. 

“Accept it as my gift before your departure… My congratulations.”

“It feels absurd for me to accept such a gift from you.”

“Stop being so proud and stubborn,” the old man chided gently. “Now, go look next to your steed.”

Ursuline knitted his eyebrows and walked over to his horse’s stall. There, he found a full knapsack against the wall, along with a sword and a dagger that looked to be new. After going through the bag that was packed with plain clothes and a pair of boots that were of decent quality, he inspected the weapons. 

He quizzically looked at the old man who was watching him.

“They were all for my son… Danael.”

Ursuline cocked his head. “You had a son?” 

Gilbreth nodded. “He died a long time ago… I had bought these for him before he was set to join the Remdragon Knights. The clothes and boots were the best that I could afford then. The sword and dagger, I had made by a very skilled blacksmith I knew in Livadon. They all should suit you well for training… You and Danael have the same build.”

“...”

“It’s not what you’re used to, but you’ll find them satisfactory for the time being–”

“They’re perfectly fine, Gilbreth.” Ursuline shook his head. 

The old man smiled bitterly. “All these years… I wasn’t able to part with his things because they were all I had left of him. But knowing they’ll be of use to you… That you’ll be in the same order that he wanted to join… It’s time.”

“...”

“Pardon my saying so, but you remind me of him a bit… And if your family isn’t proud of you, of the man you’ve become… Well, I am.”

Ursuline felt a strange tug in his chest.

“Well…” Gilbreth sighed. “Enough jabbering from me. You’d better leave before Sir Trevor finds us.”

He nodded his head, unsure of how to respond. Then, he grabbed the saddle and readied his steed. 

“Thank you, Gilbreth,” Ursuline stated formally as he mounted his horse. “I shall never forget this kindness you’ve shown me.”

The old man bowed.  

Feeling that his farewell was lacking, Ursuline hesitated before continuing. “Danael was lucky to have you... Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of his things.” With that, Ursuline rode off to Drachium Palace to join his new order.

Chapter Text

“Everyone is staring at us like we have no clothes…”

Ursuline fought the urge to roll his eyes at Gabel’s comment as they navigated through Drachium Palace. 

“Of all things, Sir Gabel,” Elliot chortled, scratching his head. “That?...”

“I’m not trying to be vulgar…” Gabel reasoned. “But this is so much worse than before Riftan’s knighting ceremony.”

“Well, it’s not really you or Elliot whom they’re gawking at, is it?” Ursuline sighed. “Commander Triton said he wouldn’t announce my transfer until tomorrow, but everyone seems to already know.”

When they turned the corner, more nobles stared at them and whispered among themselves. Ursuline maintained a steady pace, looking polished with his head held high; even nodding to some of the noblemen and women they passed. On the other hand, Gabel smiled awkwardly, while Elliot avoided looking at anyone, keeping his eyes forward.

“Well, your resignation would’ve been an effective distraction from Riftan’s knighthood… had you not joined the same order as he,” he muttered. “And you did so quite suddenly. We were already in a sticky situation, but now... we may have really stirred the hornet's nest.”

Elliot turned to Ursuline, only to find him looking back at him with a frown. 

“Oh, but don’t misunderstand, my friend. I’m still happy that you’ve finally decided to become one of us,” he assured him with a sheepish smile.

“So am I, but could we please walk a little faster?” Gabel added.

“Well, well, well…” someone said loudly from nearby, causing Ursuline to halt his steps. Gabel and Elliot reluctantly followed suit.

Shit.

Ursuline turned his head, knowing exactly who it was, but didn’t say a word. Lew Cayden, then, approached with a grin and held out his hand. 

“Congratulations, Ricaydo,” he said cheerfully.

Ursuline looked at his hand, but didn't want to shake it. Based on their history, he was convinced that Cayden was only doing it for show and to try and get under his skin. However, with all the nobles watching, he felt that he had no choice.

With a hesitant sigh, he shook the hand in front of him. “Thank you.”

Cayden took a step closer and leaned in towards his ear. “I always knew you’d leave the Royal Army sooner or later for them.”

“...”

“Good choice,” he sneered with a fake smile. “Or should I say… good riddance ?”

Upon hearing his words, Ursuline wanted to butt his head as hard as he could right into his mouth to shut him up, but instead, he took a deep breath and tightened his grip, squeezing Cayden's hand to the point of pain. Cayden grimaced for a split-second, but quickly hardened his face to keep the nobles from noticing. 

“Do you recall when I said I’d consider leaving the Royal Army once I was bored of beating and out-performing you all the time?” he whispered back with a smirk. “How about you thank me instead of still trying to annoy me, Cayden? You got what you wanted... Without me constantly casting my shadow over you, you’ll finally have a chance to shine.”

Cayden’s nostrils flared with anger at his retort, while Gabel snorted with amusement, and a smile formed on Elliot’s lips.

“You won’t have to kiss ass anymore…”

He jerked his hand out of Ursuline’s. “Fuck you, Ricaydo,” Cayden hissed quietly before walking away. 

Ursuline scoffed and turned back around. As the three of them continued walking. Elliot and Gabel exchanged glances, silently acknowledging their new squire’s quick wit and sharp-tongue. 

Finally, they entered one of the smaller banquet rooms that were assigned to the Remdragon Knights’ for their meals and meetings.

All the chattering and ruckus stopped as soon as the doors closed behind them and everyone turned to Ursuline. Taken aback by the mixed reactions on everyone’s faces, he moved his eyes back and forth among the rows of knights and squires. Many were smiling, while some stared at him, wide-eyed. Others looked absolutely deadpan. 

“Well, fuck me… I seriously thought it was just a rumor, Captain!” a familiar voice boomed from the other end of the room. 

“Nirtha,” warned Commander Evan Triton. 

“Aye… Sorry.”

Triton shook his head at Hebaron, then stood up from his seat to address everyone. “Gentlemen, I think all of you have already met Ursuline Ricaydo from the other night.”

Scattered murmurs were heard while Ursuline stood frozen in place, failing to notice that Gabel and Elliot had left him and sat down. 

“He wasn’t supposed to join us until tomorrow morning, but since he’s already here… Now's a good time to make some things clear,” he continued. “I’m sure you’ve all heard different rumors...” 

The murmuring grew louder.

“I will address the only few that are worth addressing… The rest is the usual horseshit that we should all be used to by now. No... I did not poach this young man from the Royal Army. Ursuline Ricaydo has joined us by his own volition, and yes, he will be in the last phase of his squire’s training, and should be a full-fledged knight within a few months–”

“Lucky bastard…”

Triton turned his head and glared at Hebaron who clamped his lips shut.

“As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted. Considering the recommendations given by other members of this order, I have decided to allow Ursuline to resume his training where he left off. However…” Triton looked directly at Ursuline. “Should your skills prove to be less than what they were touted to be… Should you fail to meet this order’s expectations… My expectations…”

The entire room became silent.

“Make no mistake… You will not get a second chance. You will be dismissed.”

Suddenly, Hebaron raised his hand. 

“Yes, Nirtha?” Triton asked unenthusiastically, as if he’d been pestered by him all day.

“To which knight will you be assigning Ricaydo?” he asked with a mocking grin. 

Ursuline frowned, hoping it wouldn’t be him.

“He will be Calypse’s squire,” Triton replied.

More whispers followed while Hebaron snapped his fingers as he swung his arm. “Dammit… I was hoping I’d get him.”

“I’m sure Ricaydo will quickly learn our ways from my new Second-in-Command. The rest of you can assist as needed, of course... In the same token, he can fine-tune Riftan’s etiquette and perhaps help him be more comfortable socializing with the nobles...” He looked intently at Riftan whose flat expression had turned into a scowl. “Isn’t that right, Sir Calypse?”

“Hah!” Hebaron laughed, smacking Riftan, who was seated next to him, on the back. “That’s akin to poking a sleeping bear with a stick, Captain!”

Triton raised an eyebrow. “Whether you agree or not is irrelevant, Calypse. This isn’t negotiable… You will learn to be a proper gentleman and silence the wagging tongues who continue to criticize your knighthood and appointment due to your background.”

Hebaron stretched out his arms. “Sir Riftan, a proper gentleman?... Might as well dress him as a jester now, Cap—“

Suddenly, Riftan elbowed him without breaking eye contact with Triton. With his arms raised high, the blow landed on Hebaron’s side.

“Fuck…” He groaned, winded. “What is with you?... Still in a foul mood?...”

“Enough,” Triton warned them with irritation. Then, he addressed the entire room again. “Men, let’s make this official and give Ursuline Ricaydo a warm welcome.”

Instantly, the room was filled with enthusiastic claps and salutations.

“Welcome, brother!”

“Glad to have you, Ricaydo!”

“You’ll be a fine addition to the Remdragon Knights! I just know it!”

“I’m glad the rumor was true… You’ve come to join us.”

Ursuline, who had been tense since entering the banquet room, slowly relaxed. He looked at all the smiling faces, then straightened his posture and gave everyone a faint smile so as to not appear too elated or eager.

It was strange to him how everyone looked so sincere and so accepting of him. He was also quite surprised by Commander Triton’s announcement.

He had expected to be demoted as their new squire; to fall back and repeat, at least, some of the training he already had. Yet, the Commander was equitable– willing to let him prove that he was qualified to finish up his squire’s training as scheduled. Not only that, but he was glad to be assigned to Riftan, to be able to work closely with him, train and learn from him,  and be able to advise and instruct him on how to deal with the nobility. It didn’t concern him that he was new to the order as well. Ursuline was confident that he’d have no trouble learning the ways of the Remdragon Knights– their rules, expectations, practices.

As he thought more about it, he realized just how vital he could be to the order. Not only for his skills and qualifications, but his presence, could also help calm and pacify the controversies that surrounded them, especially as of late– their knights comprising mainly of mercenaries and low-borns; the uproar regarding Riftan’s early knighthood and appointment; and the nobility’s general dislike for him due to his lowly background. Having someone like Ursuline, someone with his reputation and status, would definitely improve how the Remdragon Knights are viewed, especially by the nobles.

He, then, realized something else... What he couldn’t do for his father and brother, he would do for his new family without hesitation.

Razvan and Trevor had high hopes and expectations for him. He was supposed to elevate the Ricaydo name for their sake, but refused the responsibility. Now that he was part of the Remdragon Knights, he will make sure to work hard and do all that he could to show them his worth and loyalty. He will do everything in his power to elevate their order, and, at the same time, make a name for himself.

“Thank you, Commander Triton,” He finally spoke with a bow.

The voices quieted and everyone listened to him speak.

“And I thank all of you for your gracious welcome. I shall do my best to ensure that I make a fine asset to this order... I won't disappoint you. And it would be my privilege to serve as Sir Riftan Calypse’s squire for the remainder of my training.”

“He said ass- et… Fine ass- et.” Ursuline heard Hebaron giggle as he nudged Riftan’s arm with his elbow, forgetting his injury from just moments ago. 

Triton sighed and shook his head at him again before nodding to Ursuline and sitting back down. 

“Everyone, let’s eat.”

Ursuline looked around the room. To his dismay, the only empty seat he could find was next to Hebaron. He clicked his tongue and made his way to him, and as he walked, he was met with handshakes and pats on the arm.

Finally, he reached the table and sat down.

“Our sincerest welcome again, Ursuline. Elliot and I saved you a seat."

Ursuline looked at Gabel and Elliot who were across from him. Their smiles made it obvious that they were teasing him. Then, he moved his eyes to Ruth and Riftan.

"Yes... Welcome, Ursuline," Ruth greeted dryly, raising his mug to him; while Riftan simply nodded. 

"Congratulations on your appointment, Vice-Commander," he said to Riftan. "I'm honored to be your squire."

Finally, he looked at Hebaron who was staring at him with a grin.

"Boot-licking doesn't suit you, Ricaydo."

Ursuline scowled.

“Shit,” he chuckled. “Won't you actually smile, just this once?... Look alive, Ricaydo! You’re now a member of the best order of knights in all of Wedon! In all of Roviden, for that matter!… Why must you always look like that?”

Because I have to sit next to you…

Hebaron moved his head back and forth between Ursuline and Riftan. “I don’t know who looks worse… You or Calypse. I mean, the Vice-Commander.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked him gruffly.

“I'm seated between two men who look like they got kicked in the bollocks.”

“Shut up,” Riftan mumbled as he ate. 

“It’s true,” Hebaron snickered. “You, Vice-Captain, have been grouchy since learning that you’ll be going back to the palace in Dristan… But this one looks grouchy all the time–”

“Are you drunk, Sir Hebaron?” Ursuline interrupted him.

“No,” he answered with a smile. “Well… Not yet.”

“Kicked in the bollocks?... Ass-et?,” Ursuline mimicked him. “You treat everything as a joke, don’t you?”

Hebaron gasped sarcastically. “You’re surlier than ever... How is that even possible?”

“You’re a child in a beast’s body.”

“And the insolence!... You're worse than Ruth and you’re supposed to be the epitome of gentlemanliness!”

Ursuline pursed his lips, unwilling to let Hebaron goad him further into their useless argument.

The red-head nudged Riftan’s arm again. “Hey, Vice-Commander… You heard the way he spoke to me. I think his first duty as your squire should be to clean the latrines at the training grounds tomorrow as punishment for taking that tone with a superi–”

“If I am to clean shit, then I shall start with your mouth.” Ursuline interrupted. 

Hebaron’s lips parted with amusement at successfully irritating Ursuline even more. “You cheeky little cunt!" He turned to those seated behind him. "Did you all hear that?”

Gabel and Elliot stared at him and Ursuline, and soon, the others began to look their way as well. 

“Shut up, both of you.” Riftan rubbed his temple in annoyance. However, neither of them were listening and continued their bickering instead.

“Stop whining like a small child, you-”

“Stop being so angry and-"

Riftan set his fork down. “Shut up, dammit!” he bellowed in his deep voice, glowering at them with such coldness that it rendered them both silent.

Elliot's eyes widened and went back to eating his meal, while Ruth rolled his eyes. 

“My first official order as Vice-Commander,” he spoke threateningly. “You two… shut your damn mouths for the rest of this meal."

“...”

“...”

"If I hear either of you, as much, breathe... You will both clean the latrines tomorrow with a hand tied to each other.”

"I second that order," Commander Triton yelled from the table next to them, causing the rest of the men to laugh. "Good call, Sir Calypse."

Chapter Text

The spectators began to hoot and clap as they closely observed the sparring match before them.

Ursuline swung his sword with astonishing speed, but in spite of being able to strike twice in a blink of an eye, Riftan was still able to block. Frustrated, he gritted his teeth as the two of them pushed away from each other.

“Your movements are even faster,” Riftan acknowledged. 

“Apparently, still not fast enough…”

“Cut yourself some slack, Ricaydo,” he admonished him. “You’re still a squire, but even most experienced fighters wouldn’t see that attack coming…”

Ursuline let out an empty chuckle.

“Sir Nirtha! Better watch your back the next time you two spar!” someone yelled from the stands. “Even the Vice-Commander thinks that Ursuline’s speed is rather impressive!”

Laughter and jeers broke out among the other knights and squires present.

“Ricaydo may be able to swing his sword twice and make it appear as one attack, but he’s gonna have to come up with something more clever than that to bring me down!” the red giant yelled back.

Riftan glanced at the sword in Ursuline’s hand. 

“You plan on actually using that thing from now on?” 

“Well,” he replied, swinging it back and forth, then turning his wrist. “It’s much lighter… and the blade is–.”

He stopped speaking as soon as he noticed the strange look on Riftan’s face.

“Why?... What’s wrong with it?”

Riftan looked at him, his face now neutral. “Compared to your other sword, it’s the more superior blade, but it’s–”

“Excessive?...”

“Hmm… That’s a word for it,” he answered flatly.

Ursuline looked at the weapon in his hand with a grimace. 

When they arrived at Drachium Palace that morning, Princess Agnes had proudly presented him with a brand new sword as his congratulatory gift for his knighthood that was to take place tomorrow evening. It was a one-of-a-kind piece that she had made specifically for Ursuline by one of the finest wordsmiths in Drachium, and had surely cost a fortune. It was, as Riftan had said, of far more superior quality than the one Gilbreth had given him, but its shine and ornate details made it too flashy and almost embarrassing to carry around. 

‘I can’t accept such an extravagant gift, Your Grace. This is too much—‘

‘There you go again with the formalities, Ursuline… Stop it,’ Agnes sighed. 

‘But, Princess…’

‘But what?... Do you not like it?’

‘How can I not?... Look at the… quality.’

‘Yes! Isn’t it marvelous?!’ she clapped with glee. ‘I consulted with Father on the type of metal to use, but the design was my idea!’

Ursuline wiped his brow. ‘What will people say?…’

‘Who cares?… ’

‘…’

‘If I wish to present my friend and mentor with a sword to commemorate his knighthood, then I shall… My gift to you is no one else’s business.’

Ursuline snapped out of his musings and walked over to the bench where the sword’s scabbard gleamed shamelessly under the morning sun. 

“It’s a wonderful sword, but it’s more appropriate to keep in a private collection. It’s too… special.”

“Vice-Commander!” Elliot suddenly called from the arena entrance, drawing everyone’s attention. “Sir Triton wants to see you and Ursuline.”

“What for?” Riftan asked. 

Elliot pursed his lips awkwardly. 

“Ricaydo and I have one more round of sparring.”

“He says it’s imperative you go to him now.”

The other knights began to tease them. 

“Ooh, shit… Is the Commander still at it?”

“Should we be worried about Gabel, Vice-Commander?... I don't see him around.”

Riftan muttered some expletives before sheathing his sword.  

“It better not still be the same nonsense I’ve had to endure for the last three days,” he said to Ursuline as he passed him. “It may not have been your idea, but I still blame you for it...”

Ursuline sighed. He ran a hand through his hair, then followed.

Three days ago, Commander Triton suddenly began hounding Riftan about perfecting his dance skills for the banquet that would follow Ursuline’s knighting ceremony. 

‘Think of it as a necessary skill, especially for a man in your position. We do, after all, have special ties to the crown… To the King. There are certain expectations at court that we still need to meet.’

Riftan frowned.

‘It may be silly and trivial to you, Calypse… but for the nobles who will be attending, dancing at such events is an important ritual of sorts.’

‘So?…’

‘It’s been three months since you were knighted. You’ll have critics everywhere, waiting to pounce on any opportunity to talk about you… You must show them that you are quickly adaptable, that even someone like you can easily master a waltz.’

Due to this concern, Triton forced Riftan to learn all the customary dances with Ursuline and Gabel as his guide and partner. The former, showing him the man’s steps, while the latter danced the female’s.

‘Why me, Commander??...’

Ursuline could vividly recall Gabel’s protesting. 

‘Until we reach Drachium, you’re the most suitable dance partner for Calypse… We’re not exactly in the presence of cultured women who could fill the part.’

‘But why me??...’

‘Because you’re an impeccable dancer… Didn’t you always pride yourself in that? Besides, you’re lythe, graceful, and you’ve probably danced with the most women out of all of us… ’

The knights whistled and cat-called Gabel in the background. 

‘You should consider it a privilege to be my chosen expert on this,’ Triton continued sarcastically. ‘Doesn’t it give you an edge over Nirtha in your shameless womanizing?…’

‘…’

‘If Lady Triton knew that her adoptive son had become such a cad… She’d either faint from shock or pull you over her lap and give you a good spanking.’

’If it weren’t Lady Triton, Lachzion, would probably enjoy the spanking, Captain…’

‘Nirtha!’

Within the first few minutes of Ursuline and Gabel demonstrating an appropriate waltz to Riftan, Triton had to send the rest of the men away due to their uncontrollable laughter and relentless jests. 

‘I hope your betrothed doesn’t get jealous, Ursuline!’ even Elliot remarked. 

Riftan, wanting to be done with Triton’s demand, reluctantly complied when it was his turn to dance with Gabel. Each time he came near Ursuline, he looked like he wanted to strangle him. Gabel, on the other hand, looked absolutely miserable.

’How about you make me wear a gown as well, Commander?… Since you’re already ruining my life…’

“Wipe that smirk off your face, Ricaydo,” Riftan hissed as they walked, interrupting Ursuline’s thoughts. “I don’t see how any of this has been amusing.”

As soon as they entered the room where Commander Triton was waiting for them, Riftan growled. “Enough of this, Commander! I’ve put up with the madness long enough. If you feel that I still haven't met your standards. Well, those nobles could kiss my–”

“Calypse! Watch your mouth,” Triton scolded him. 

“Sir Riftan…” a commanding feminine voice spoke.

“Princess Agnes?” Ursuline asked with surprise.

“What are you doing here… Your Grace?” Riftan added reluctantly.

“Father sent me. There were concerns regarding your dancing abilities and we can’t allow you to make a fool of him at tomorrow’s banquet,” she replied haughtily. “Rest assured, by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be ready…”

“Pardon me, Your Grace, but you’re just a girl…”

“Would you rather some noblewoman come to instruct and critique you, then?” she retorted.

“All I mean is that there’s no need to waste your time on me.”

“Sir Riftan, I may be young, but I could very well teach you a thing or two about dancing and save you from embarrassing yourself in front of everyone...”

“…”

“Now, come here, you stubborn mule. The bard will play the lute and we’ll get started…” She stood up from her seat and walked to him. “Take my hand and lead. Ursuline will correct you as we go.”

“Dammit…” Riftan muttered under his breath.

Chapter Text

Agnes sat down next to Ursuline with a satisfied smile on her face. 

“Within a few hours, you accomplished what Commander Triton has been demanding from me and Sir Gabel for the last three days… Are you quite proud of yourself, Princess?” he asked her. 

“Yes, quite…” she beamed. “But Sir Riftan deserves credit, too. He is a fast learner and is surprisingly light on his feet. He’s a natural dancer who just needed the right partner.” 

She eyed the large man from head to toe as he spoke with Sir Triton at the other end of the room. “He really is something…” she added with a sigh that sounded foreign to Ursuline.

He looked at her, bewildered. 

“You know, I didn’t quite understand why women have been secretly fussing over him, but now I do… He’s criminally handsome, albeit rough around the edges.”

Ursuline’s eye twitched, shocked by her candidness. Although he appreciated that Agnes was comfortable enough to speak so freely around him, Riftan Calypse’s supposed good looks was not something he cared to hear about.

“Once they find out how well he can actually dance, they will surely swoon at tomorrow’s banquet ” she giggled in a whisper. “He’ll have so many noblewomen wanting to dance with him that he’ll need to keep a roll of parchment and a quill on hand to keep track of all their names. ”

Ursuline narrowed his eyes. “And I suppose you plan on adding yourself to that list, Princess?… Are you about to swoon as well?” he asked sarcastically.

Agnes smirked. “Why?... You sound intimidated.” she quipped.

Surprised by her retort, he felt himself blush. 

Ursuline cleared his throat. “I am not,” he murmured.

Agnes gave him the side-eye. “Hmm...”

“I am no stranger to that kind of attention, as you well know,” he huffed.

“Yes, but you have the advantage of being a Ricaydo, the proud son of one of Wedon's most prominent families, while Sir Riftan, there, comes from nothing.” 

“...”

Noticing the sudden tension in Ursuline’s expression, Agnes refrained from continuing with her comparison. 

“In any case, I don’t need to add my name to any list. I can dance with any man I want to at any time,” she said haughtily. “Which reminds me… You’d better save me a waltz tomorrow.”

“You may have to wait a while… but I’ll add you to my own list .”

She rolled her eyes. “Just to be clear, I do not fuss or swoon over anyone. I am a Princess.” Suddenly, she giggled again. “That’s a lie… I actually felt weak in the knees the entire time I was dancing with Sir Riftan. It’s a curious sensation. It’s never happened to me before..."

“Good grief…”

“Oh, come now…” she snorted, trying to regain her poise as her attendants watched them. “A woman would have to be blind to not find Sir Riftan beautiful.“

“ Beautiful?!” 

“Yes. Look at him.”

He scoffed. 

Agnes eyed him again. “Now you sound jealous, Ursuline…”

“Well, I am not,” he replied gruffly.

“Then prove it,” she egged on. “Agree with me.”

“That has to be the most juvenile thing you’ve ever asked me to do.”

“Say it and I shall drop the subject altogether… Riftan Calypse is ridiculously handsome. ”

Ursuline glared at her and Agnes glared right back. Finally, he sighed with annoyance. “You have a bit of drool on the corner of your mouth, Princess.”

Agnes burst into laughter, but he wasn’t amused. As soon as everyone turned their heads towards the ruckus, she sat up straight and cleared her throat, motioning for them to carry on.

“Oh! Will you relax?...” she scolded Ursuline. “You act like I want to marry the man.” 

His lips twisted. “First he’s beautiful, and you want me to agree… Now, you speak of marriage to him?” 

Agnes rolled her eyes again. “Me marrying someone like Sir Riftan would be absurd … Like how you’re acting.” 

Ursuline looked down and shook his head.

“You’re worse than Father.” 

“My apologies, Princess… Perhaps I’m more anxious about tomorrow than I thought.”

“Well, you shouldn’t be,” she reassured him nonchalantly. “It’s not as if you’re not used to being the center of attention. And even though there will be nine other squires to be knighted along with you tomorrow, it’s you whom everyone’s been talking about.”

Ursuline pursed his lips. If only she knew the real reason behind his anxiety. 

It had been over three months since his last encounter with Trevor and although he was, technically, granted permission to join the Remdragon Knights, their conversation ended with a cliffhanger. He had no idea where he currently stood with his family. And as much as Ursuline despised his father and brother, he needed them to show up tomorrow evening. Their absence would not only be humiliating, but would most certainly raise questions and stir gossip.

Not knowing the real issue at hand, Agnes prattled on. “Everyone’s excited for your knighting ceremony. It will be just as grand as the last and the attendance is expected to be just as great... Maybe even more. It will be splendid.”

“I doubt the nobles are here to see me… If anything, they’ve returned just out of curiosity for Sir Riftan.”

Agnes chuckled. “Well… I guess that can’t be helped.”

“Is that really why King Reuben sent you?”

“Hmm?...”

“So he wouldn’t embarrass himself? I mean, I suppose you’re right… Better that you instruct him rather than some strange noblewoman … I can only imagine the rumors that could stem from that.”

“Oh,” she mumbled. “Father didn’t actually ask me to teach Sir Riftan how to dance… It was my idea and I pestered him until he gave in.”

He looked at her incredulously.

“So you do swoon over the Vice-Commander,” he remarked in an accusing tone. “It was a ploy to—“

“No, you fool,” she shot back defensively. “Enough with your childish scolding. If you must know, I overheard Commander Triton tell Father that he made poor Sir Riftan learn the dances with you and Sir Gabel, and that he intended to find a discreet noblewoman to fill the role.”

“…”

“I figured, it might as well be me... At least, I know I can be discreet and it’ll be done right.”

“Princess…” Ursuline sighed with embarrassment.

“Like you, I was also wary of the rumors that could start. Can you imagine one of Sir Riftan’s secret fanatics flapping her mouth all over court about being asked to teach him how to dance?” 

“But why would you care about that?”

 “I shouldn’t… and normally, I wouldn’t.” She then placed her hand over his and patted it. “But I just didn’t want anything to spoil your moment, Ursuline.”

“…”

Agnes looked at him with sincerity. “I want everything to go smoothly for you tomorrow… And perhaps this small deed will, at least, help keep the nobles from speaking maliciously about you, the order you’ve chosen, and its members.”

He stared at her curiously and cocked his head to one side. It was truly baffling how the Princess did the most unexpected things.

“Father said you worked very hard to get to where you are… And I agree.” She moved her hand and gently nudged his arm with a knuckle. “You deserve for your special day to be perfect, my friend.”

Ursuline’s mouth fell slightly open, not knowing how to respond.

“So… if all goes well without a hitch tomorrow,” she added playfully with a wink. “Always remember that I had a hand in it.”

At that moment, a flood of memories poured into his head– the day that Agnes demanded that he instruct her on how to use a sword, and how she insisted on resuming her lessons with him after he was gone on missions for a year. Ursuline even remembered the day that she first suggested they be friends. It was the same day that he learned who the Remdragon Knights really were, and she had even defended them against his bias.

Suddenly, Agnes stood up.

“Oh,” she sighed, slightly annoyed. “I almost forgot that I have my own preparations to attend to.”

Ursuline also stood up, but was speechless.

“As much as I am enjoying my time with you, I must go.” She smiled at him with a nod as her attendants approached. “Until tomorrow, Ursuline…” Then, she and her attendants left the room.

Ursuline forgot to bow and just stood there, still stunned by the things Agnes had said. He had been surprised by her presenting him with that gaudy sword, but going out of her way to ensure that Riftan would be able to dance properly at the banquet just to keep the nobles from gossiping about them, was truly unexpected. It may have been a small deed for her, but for Ursuline, the gesture meant a great deal. 

How could he show his gratitude for everything she’d done for him? 

He even realized that had it not been for Agnes asking for him to give her swordsmanship lessons, the course of his life would not have changed. Tomorrow, he would’ve been standing in the great hall being inducted as a Royal Knight instead of a Remdragon Knight.

Due to Riftan successfully mastering the customary dances for the next evening, Ursuline was given permission to take his leave for the rest of the day, and he reluctantly agreed. He had actually hoped that he’d be given more duties to keep him busy so he wouldn’t have time to think about Razvan or Trevor. 

Perhaps I could go visit Caleb… Or Gilbreth. But how would I do that without having to go home?...

As he turned a corner in the hall, he saw King Reuben speaking to a few of his subjects. Suddenly, an idea hit him and he approached, waiting for the King to finish his conversations. After a long wait, he was finally noticed.

“Ursuline Ricaydo,” the King greeted jovially. 

He bowed. “Your Highness, I do apologize for loitering around, but would it be possible to speak to you for a moment?”

The King looked at the leader of his Kingsguard with a nod, signaling him to clear one of the rooms. 

“Let’s follow him, shall we?”

They entered one of the drawing rooms and the guards closed the doors to let them speak in private. 

“I guess I should use this time to also congratulate you before tomorrow’s festivities. Commander Triton reported that you completed your training and he has no doubt that you’ll assume one of the higher ranks in no time… I’m quite pleased to have a loyal son of Drachium become a Remdragon Knight.”

“Thank you, Sire.”

For a while, Ursuline and the King discussed his time in Dristan, and of course, their agreement that he would instruct Agnes on swordsmanship when time allowed as Agnes will finally be leaving for Nornui in a few weeks. Their conversation was friendly and relaxed until King Reuben brought up his family. 

“I know Trevor has been away, but I haven’t seen Razvan as of late. Is your father alright?”

Ursuline was caught off-guard by the question, but managed to think of a careful and neutral response quickly.

“I would think so, Your Highness. There’s been no communication between us since I left Drachium with the Remdragon Knights… Truth be told, I have yet to visit my family.”

“Ah, of course,” the King shook his head. “In that case, extend my greetings to them, will you? I guess I will see Razvan and Trevor at the ceremony tomorrow.”

Ursuline smiled awkwardly. “Of course, Sire.”

King Reuben nodded. “Alright… So what was it that you wanted to discuss outside?”

He took a deep breath before opening his mouth. “I wanted to ask your permission to offer my geas to the Princess tomorrow during my knighting ceremony.”

King Reuben’s brow creased. “You want to do what?...”

“Pledge my geas to your daughter… Sire.”

The King suddenly had a blank look on his face. 

“It’s an oath given only once… Are you certain you want to pledge it to Agnes? She’s still a young woman. Even a child at times.”

Ursuline squared his shoulders. “I can think of no other lady deserving of it, Your Highness,” he replied confidently. “The Princess may be young, but without any malicious intent, I hold her in the highest regard. She has been a friend and supporter, and she has and will always have my utmost respect.”

“...”

“Please… Let me have the honor of doing this.”

Finally, the King waved a hand in the air. “If you are sure, then my answer is yes... Agnes would be elated to receive it from someone she is so fond of and also highly respects.”

Ursuline smiled faintly. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Chapter Text

After speaking to King Reuben and obtaining permission to pledge his geas to Princess Agnes, Ursuline took a moment and mulled over whether he should try and visit Gilbreth or not. He decided that his best option would be to go see his cousin, Caleb, first. Depending on what news he would hear regarding the Ricaydo household, he would take it from there. To his surprise, however, it was Caleb who ended up coming to see him at Drachium Palace; and even more surprising, he had brought Gilbreth along, hidden inside his carriage.

“What on earth are you doing here, old man?!” Ursuline asked him with a mix of delight and dismay. “Does my family even know you’re here?”

The old mage smiled at him wearily before informing him that the Count had granted him leave days ago after receiving a letter from an old friend from Livadon who had migrated near the capital to sell magical items.

“Thank heavens for this happy coincidence, Young Master…” Gilbreth closed his eyes. Then, he clasped his hands and brought them to his chest. “After hearing that you’d be returning for your knighting ceremony, I was anxious to find a way and see you without rousing the Count or Sir Trevor’s suspicions… My old chum’s letter came at the perfect time. Then, I ran into good Master Caleb, here, and he was kind enough to bring me here.”

“I had a sudden craving for popped corn, then I saw Gilbreth sitting in a stall in the market,” Caleb added tepidly. “How could I refuse this poor old mage?...  It was the least I could do after he healed me so many times after training in my earlier days so Father wouldn’t know just how terrible I was.” 

“Like I always say, Young Master… Things have a way of working themselves out.”

Ursuline nodded to Caleb in gratitude.

“And for your information, cousin… I had absolutely no intention of speaking to you until long after the ceremony, let alone coming to visit you.” 

“And why is that?” Ursuline asked with a raised eyebrow.

Caleb’s face twisted. “Are you daft?… I’m still angry at you, that’s why! You resigned from the Royal Army without telling me, then you took off after I informed you that the King had announced your transfer at his meeting with Father. I waited for you like an idiot, thinking you’d fill me in on what happened.”

Ursuline clicked his tongue.

“You didn’t even say goodbye.”

Ursuline rolled his eyes. “And since when have you been so sensitive to my faults, Caleb Hurst?” 

He was too proud to offer an apology and instead turned the tables on Caleb by admonishing him for his self-pity. 

Knowing Ursuline’s personality, Caleb realized that it was childish to hold a grudge. Ursuline may have always been crass towards him, but it was undeniable that he had always looked after him without expecting anything in return. And being, somewhat, aware of the abuse that he had suffered at the hands of Trevor for years, Caleb could neither hate nor blame him for leaving when the opportunity presented itself.

“Yes… Yes… Now shut up, Ricaydo,” Caleb grumbled, changing the subject. “Look. I’m going out on a limb here by letting the two of you catch up. I’ll take you to his friend’s cottage now, but you’ll have to find your own way back to the palace.” 

“Calling me by my last name? You must still be angry with me, cousin.” Ursuline smiled at him wryly. 

“I’m not. Just say thank you, dammit.”

“Why? I didn’t ask you to bring him,” Ursuline teased.

“Arrogant as ever…” Caleb sighed with annoyance. “Oi! You’d better come see me before you leave Drachium again.”

“Fine.”

Ursuline stayed with Gilbreth until late that evening, catching him up to speed regarding his adventures and experiences; going as far back as when he first left for his year-long assignment with the Royal Knights. 

The old man listened to his stories eagerly, and although Ursuline spoke in his usual nonchalance, there was an undeniable glint of excitement in his eyes when he talked about being part of the Remdragon Knights. There, he had seemed to have gained true confidence and a new sense of purpose, and Gilbreth had never heard Ursuline speak so highly or fondly of any men like he did of his new brothers.

Judging by the smile that occasionally graced his usually stoic or stern face, Ursuline was, without a doubt, truly happy where he was. 

“If you don’t mind my asking, Young Master… How did you come to the decision to join the Remdragon Knights?”

Ursuline paused with hesitation in his eyes, but he opted to share the entire story— how Elliot had been the first to bring it up, and how the idea haunted him relentlessly until the day Riftan was knighted, and that he decided to act on it the day before Merian’s escape.

After listening, Gilbreth nodded silently.

Although Ursuline had always been strong-willed, for a while, the old mage did worry that he had resigned himself to the fate of being nothing more but the second son of Razvan Ricaydo. 

For Ursuline to have acted and done what he did; to have risked everything he had worked so hard to achieve; and to defy his brother and father clearly attested to how much becoming a Remdragon Knight meant to him.

“I’m glad you’ve finally found your place, Young Master.”

Ursuline smiled bitterly. “How did the Parans take the news of me leaving?...” he asked, changing the subject.

“The Marquis came storming into the house shortly after you left, demanding assurance that you joining the Remdragon Knights wouldn’t jeopardize your engagement to Lady Isobel.”

“And what did my father and brother say?”

“Whatever the Marquis needed to hear…” he replied with a shrug. “He was incensed that he wasn’t given prior notice of your departure, but being a wise man who happened to be one of the few powerful nobles who supported the King’s decision to expedite Sir Calypse’s knighthood, he knew that having his future son-in-law join the same order would only strengthen his ties to the crown… All is well, as far as anyone outside of the Ricaydo household is concerned.”

Ursuline clicked his tongue. “Any news regarding Trevor and Razvan?” 

Although he would rather not know anything about them, it was only prudent that he be aware of what his father and brother were up to, especially if they were to maintain the facade of a united front, or at least, a truce.

Gilbreth shook his head. “I'm afraid that Sir Trevor’s behavior has continued to decline, and Count Razvan’s attempt to conceal it is beginning to take a toll on his health.”

“What do you mean?”

The old man pursed his lips. 

“Speak, Gilbreth... I have a right to know. In spite of the chasm between us, I still carry the Ricaydo name. Any wrongdoing on their part puts my own image and reputation at risk.”

“Sir Trevor had, once again,  involved himself with one of the new maidservants... just like he did with Merian,” he sighed.

“...”

“I regret that this time, no one was there to intervene like you did…”

“Is the servant dead?” Ursuline mumbled.

Gilbreth nodded regrettably. “By whose hands, I do not know.”

“I see…”

“Also, Sir Trevor had been entangled with the wrong kind of people… Racking up substantial debts with outsiders that your father had to settle. And… he’s had a string of secret affairs with noblewomen. Some, betrothed or married.”

Ursuline’s lips twisted.

Why is Trevor acting so reckless?  

“Your father is convinced that the solution may be for him to find a wealthy bride outside of Drachium.  He’s been scouring Wedon without the court’s knowledge to find potential candidates.”

“You mean victims. ”

“Considering that Sir Trevor’s reputation is still intact. I guess it shouldn’t be too difficult… Besides, he still has his looks and his strength.”

As their conversation droned, it made more and more sense for Ursuline to distance himself from his family, and after tomorrow night, he intended to do just that.

“Ursuline Ricaydo.” 

King Reuben’s regal tone interrupted his musings as his face maintained a serious expression. 

Ursuline was the first squire to be knighted that evening and just as Princess Agnes had said, there were just as many attendees as Riftan’s ceremony, and the food and preparations were just as abundant and meticulous. 

As he walked up the steps, he pushed down any distracting thoughts. He wanted to be fully immersed in the moment that he had spent most of his life preparing for. 

Ursuline bent his knee before the King, and the knighting ritual finally began. After being asked the usual questions, he briefly glanced over at Agnes who was seated towards the back of the stage, facing him. She had absolutely no idea what was to follow.

After Ursuline flawlessly recited the Knight’s Oath, instead of being introduced to the crowd, King Reuben called for Agnes to come forward to join him. Murmurs began to fill the entire room, and the Princess’ eyes widened when she finally realized what was happening. 

She approached her father with proud and elegant steps, and deftly took his waiting hand. Then, King Reuben stepped to the side, leaving her in the center of the stage with Ursuline before her, still down on one knee. At that very moment, the loud clatter of a goblet hitting the marble floor resounded in the great hall.

Supressing the urge to turn his head to the direction of the ruckus, Ursuline carefully unsheathed his sword. It was the same one that Agnes had given him the day before. He buried its sharp tip on the carpet with both of his hands resting on the hilt. Then, he bowed his head and began pledging his geas. 

Cheers and applause erupted from the King and the spectators as soon as he spoke the last word. 

“Now rise, Sir Ursuline Ricaydo of the Remdragon Knights,” King Reuben declared over the acclaim.

Ursuline looked up at Agnes before sheathing his sword and standing up. He bowed to her and she extended her hand out to him, which he gently kissed with reverence.

The applause continued until Ursuline descended the stage and returned to his post. It was then that his eyes met Trevor’s, who was staring at him with an inscrutable expression. 

Ursuline felt a jolt in his spine.

After hearing Gilbreth’s revelations the night before, Trevor was the last person he wanted to see. Still, he had to be grateful that he and their father attended the ceremony, lest the nobles would question their absence.

Razvan sat next to Trevor and appeared to be in a solemn conversation with Marquis Paran, who looked rather angry. Next to the Marquis were two empty chairs, one with visible wine stains all over its white linen cover. 

Recalling the clatter of a goblet just moments ago, Ursuline let out a deep sigh. 

Isobel…

At the banquet, many of the nobles and knights flocked around Ursuline to offer their congratulations and shower him with praise regarding his unexpected pledge to Princess Agnes. 

Suddenly, a large hand firmly gripped his pauldron. “Congratulations, Brother!” 

The sound was almost grating in his ears, but Ursuline forced a smile and turned his head to the people next to him.

“Brother… Father…” he greeted them by bowing his head. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Well, we couldn’t possibly miss this momentous occasion,” Razvan replied, his voice tinged with venom. “Nothing could keep us from witnessing this… life changing event.”

“Sir Triton,” he called, turning his attention to the Commander who was in conversation with other knights. “We have not had the opportunity for a proper reunion with my second son since he returned with the Royal Army and then joined the Remdragon Knights… Please see to it that he retires to our family home this evening. You can have him back tomorrow morning.”

The corner of Sir Triton’s eye twitched at his veiled insult. He looked briefly at Ursuline who wore a flat expression on his face. 

Not wanting to add fuel to what he suspected was an already simmering situation, he smiled faintly in acknowledgement. “If that is what Sir Ursuline wishes, then I will not hinder his request.”

“Thank you, Commander. As the Count said, I shall return in the morning.”

Ursuline opted to ride his horse to the Ricaydo estate rather than join his father and brother in their carriage. 

As he handed the reins to an attendant, he looked up at the house before him. The columns and steps, the large wooden doors, the ornate lamps, and the greenery that showcased the opulence of the Ricaydo estate all looked so foreign to him. It no longer felt like home.

It’s not like it ever was…

New servants greeted him as he entered the entrance doors and he was ushered towards the drawing room where his father and brother were already waiting, sipping on wine. 

“You’ve grown much,” Razvan greeted with a suspicious smirk. “Whatever slop Triton’s been feeding you seems to have its benefits. Everyone at the palace thinks that you’re even more dashing than ever. Perhaps joining the Remdragons has improved your physique, but your good looks, without a doubt, are attributed to your bloodline.”

“I’m more interested in knowing if your tolerance to alcohol has improved, Brother.” Trevor sneered as he walked towards him. He shoved his goblet of wine into Ursuline’s hand, causing the liquid to splash. “I hear that Hebaron Nirtha and Riftan Calypse are quite heavy drinkers. The low-lives must’ve emptied cask after cask of wine at the banquet. Understandable… I doubt they get to indulge in quality spirits very often.” 

“Apologies. I didn’t mean to soil your coat,” Trevor continued with sarcasm as he looked at the stain on Ursuline’s sleeve. “And just how did you afford such fine clothing without me or father giving you a single shekel after I had all of your belongings burned?”

Ursuline pursed his lips, ignoring their insults. “Why am I here?” he asked tersely.

Trevor scoffed. “Listen to him… The sound of arrogance…”

“...”

“It suits you, Sir Ursuline.”

Caught off guard by his words, Ursuline failed to notice the fist that flew swiftly towards his head, its impact, causing him to spill the rest of the wine.

“Still, you need to be knocked down a peg or two when in my presence.”

Ursuline took a deep breath, but did not respond. He wiped his lip, a darker shade of red settling on his already stained and drenched sleeve. 

His father and brother watched as he mechanically set the empty goblet down on a table, then took a linen napkin to wipe his clothes and hands. 

“I almost forgot what it feels like to strike you.”

“Remember it well because it’ll be the last time you ever do,” Ursuline stated plainly.

“Is that so?”

”…”

”But I’ve always been fair, haven’t I?” he asked with a smirk. “I only ever hit or beat you when you deserved it.”

Ursuline chuckled dryly. “So what have I done this time to deserve your fair treatment?”

“You offended the Parans… again.” Razvan narrowed his eyes. “After we appeased the Marquis three months ago, after you ran off with the filth, you dared insult his daughter tonight by pledging your geas to the Princess!” 

“It was a sign of loyalty to the crown. What does it have to do with my betrothal to that girl?”

“Did you wish to further affront the Parans? Isobel dropped her goblet from shock, and was in tears until the Marchioness was able to escort her out."

"All this time, you’ve blatantly disregarded their daughter’s fascination with you… Not once have you ever acknowledged her. Tonight, you just had to rub salt into the wound.”

“None of it matters," Ursuline hissed. "I never wanted this! And I plan to break the engagement as soon as I can acquire the funds to cover the penalty… I have no desire to marry Isobel Paran.”

Razvan gritted his teeth. “You will do no such thing.”

“Are you aware of the scandal that would cause?” Trevor scoffed. “You may have lost your sense of loyalty, but where is your honor?”

“Honor?… I could ask both of you the same question.”

“How dare you?!” Razvan yelled with bloodshot eyes.

“Must I go into detail, Father?”

Razvan went on a tirade. As he did, a cynical smile formed on Trevor’s lips.

“... The nerve! You speak as if you’re innocent of any crime.”

Finally, Trevor cut in. “We can’t prove anything… Isn’t that right, little brother?”

Ursuline squared his shoulders. “This conversation is done. I'm leaving.”

“Oh, not yet…” Trevor hummed.

“You can’t stop me from breaking off my engagement to that poor girl.”

“Maybe Father and I can’t… but Gilbreth can.”

Ursuline’s breath shuddered. “What are you talking about? What does the old man have to do with any of this?”

“It’s all very simple… You’re fond of him, isn’t that right?” he spoke in a calm and sinister tone. “You may be untouchable now, but he's not. So... if you do anything reckless, he dies.”

"..."

“Comply with what we ask and we’ll continue our truce for as long as you’d like. The choice is yours, little brother.”

Chapter Text

Ursuline’s eyebrows crinkled as he stirred in his sleep. The scene before him was as vivid as the events that took place during his latest assignment in Dristan not long ago. 

In his dream, he and his fellow knights were hiding in a dark and dense thicket, waiting to attack the rebels that had wandered into their trap. Dressed in minimal armor to be as stealthy as possible, he ignored the thick vines hanging from the trees that kept brushing his face, arms, and chest.

When he heard an unfamiliar voice, his entire body tensed. It was feminine, not gruff. 

How could anyone have gotten so close without him noticing?... The voice was practically whispering in his ear.

He whipped his head about when something tickled his earlobe, and he quickly reached for the knife in his waist to attack. However, instead of feeling a cold metal hilt, his large hand touched something warm and soft. He strained his eyes, trying to figure out what it was, but he couldn't see anything. Then, something began to trace circles around his abdomen before making a line towards his trousers. 

Coming to his senses, Ursuline finally woke.

His eyes shot open and he found a woman pressed against him, brushing her lips against his ear. She laid on her side with her head resting on one hand, while her other hand was trying to undo his belt buckle.

“Were you dreaming about me?” she whispered.

He instantly recognized her voice as he had been burdened with the obligation to put up with her flirtation and foolishness since he and his men arrived at her family’s castle that morning for treatment and respite.

“Lady Adelaide…” Ursuline spoke as calmly as possible as he untangled himself from her after she had proceeded to wrap her arms around his neck to kiss him. Once he was loose, he hurriedly got up from the bed. Only then did he realize that she was completely naked. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?” he asked in a sharp tone.

Adelaide languidly sat up, her long red hair falling to the sides. “Shh!” she giggled as she placed an index finger over her lips. “Do you want everyone to hear?” She eyed him hungrily from his feet to his head, her lust evident. “You truly are beautiful, Sir Ursuline… Now, I know it for a fact.”

“How did you get inside my bedchambers?” he hissed quietly. 

She got on her knees, fully exposing her front, and held up a key. 

Ursuline turned his head to the side to avoid looking at her. “Your father, Lord Perry, will not be pleased,” he chided. “We are here as knights who sought his help, and he was kind enough to oblige… This is unacceptable.”

“Ugh, so handsome, but always so straight-laced…” she teased. “No one knows I’m here so don’t worry about a thing.”

He ran a hand through his hair, irritated by her shamelessness; but more than that, for his succumbing to exhaustion and failing to detect her presence after a grueling assignment and riding for days to escort his injured men to Lord Perry’s estate. 

“Please, Milady… I am tired and would like to rest.”

“Oh, you can rest,” she mewled with a smile before reaching out to touch his face. “Just lay down... For now, I’ll do all the work .”

Ursuline took a step back, causing the woman to frown. Realizing that he wasn’t wearing his tunic, he reached for it on the bed, but Adelaide yanked it away. 

“You’re not going to need this,” she said as she tossed it on the floor behind her. “Now, shed those trousers—“

“Enough…” Ursuline sighed with exasperation. “We can’t do this.”

"Why not?”

He pursed his lips and glared at her. “I am engaged... and I have never been unfaithful to my fiance.” 

“That’s not what I’ve heard,” she smirked. “Haven't you been betrothed for quite some time? You’re still wanting to graze on greener pastures... That's why you're still unmarried, am I right?”

His brows curled at her impertinence.  

“Men like you who speak of virtue… are the ones who crave seduction and passion the most.”

“And you’re convinced that you can provide it for me?... That you'll satisfy the seduction and passion I seek?”

“Oh, I’ve known since we first laid eyes on each other. You were just too stubborn and proud to make the first move.”

Ursuline let out an empty chuckle. “Think whatever you want,” he countered flatly, maintaining their eye contact. “But do so outside of this room."

Adelaide scoffed, her lips twisting into a sneer as she watched him pick up the garments that she had discarded on the floor. “How dare you turn me away, Ursuline Ricaydo.”

“You’re a beautiful woman, Lady Adelaide… as you’re well aware,” he replied, placing her clothes in front of her. “But as I said, I am betrothed.”

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. 

Ursuline scrubbed his face with annoyance as she took her chemise and began putting it on. 

“Are you going to answer that?”

“Please stay quiet,” he ordered before walking to the door. 

He opened it, allowing only enough space for him to squeeze himself through. “Lachzion…” he muttered as he shut the door behind him quickly. “What is it? It’s late.”

Gabel eyed him suspiciously before handing him a letter. “Is that how you thank your smuggler ?”

Ursuline’s eyes widened and he took the letter eagerly. “Is this from Gilbreth?” he asked softly with a hint of excitement. He inspected the parchment before carefully removing the wax seal and tearing off pieces until he located a small sliver of twine within it. 

“Of course it is. Who else would write to a sourpuss like you?...” Gabel grimaced as he watched his ritual. He did it each time he received a letter from the old man. “Why go through all this trouble for a letter? The secrecy… the parchment… the twine in the wax… I swear, you’ve gone mad.”

“Keep your voice down.”

Gabel sighed. “You know, when I said ‘I wish to return the favor’ when you had Gilbreth heal the cut on my face when we sparred years ago, I meant it as a one time deal… Am I to be your courier till the old man croaks?”

Ursuline frowned at his morbid jest. 

The occasional letter that he received from the old man was his only proof that Trevor was, indeed, keeping him alive in exchange for maintaining his engagement to Isobel Paran. To be sure that it really was Gilbreth who was writing to him, Ursuline had given specific instructions on how to produce the letters. The old mage was to use a special type of parchment, hide a small piece of twine in the wax seal, and must only give the letters to Gabel Lachzion to be hand-delivered to Ursuline. Gilbreth must also wait for a response before writing him another letter.

“Have you the faintest idea how inconvenient it is to hide a letter that thick?” Gabel continued. “You can create a tome from all the parchment Gilbreth has used in the few letters he’s sent you and vice-versa. Why can’t you two just correspond like normal people?… Write as often as you need to, instead of writing a year’s worth of thoughts all at once?”

As Gabel continued his rant, the door behind Ursuline slowly opened, revealing Lady Adelaide Perry, her hair and gown disheveled.

“Sir Lachzion,” she greeted him awkwardly. 

“Lady Adelaide…” he uneasily replied. “What were you doing in–”

“You didn’t see me at all this evening, is that understood?” she interrupted brusquely.

He sighed. “As you wish, Milady…”

She eyed Ursuline with contempt before quietly walking down the hall. 

Gabel turned to Ursuline. “You and Adelaide Perry?!” he exclaimed. "You rascal!"

“Shut up!” Ursuline opened the bedroom door and pulled Gabel inside.

'You're slapping skins with our host's daughter?... I didn't think you had it in you!"

“She snuck inside here, but nothing happened."

“Why not?!... Do you know how unattainable she is? She won't even look at me or Hebaron!”

“You damn rake!” Ursuline growled. “What do you take me for? I am betrothed!”

“Ah, yes. To whom exactly?… A phantom?” Gabel asked sarcastically. “To a woman whose name you never speak?...”

Ursuline scowled.

“How is it that I’ve never seen your fiance in all the years that I’ve known you? In all the years that we’ve been visiting Drachium?”

Ursuline pursed his lips. The truth was, he never openly acknowledged his betrothed, and he could count in one hand exactly how many times he had seen Isobel Paran since he was knighted.

According to Princess Agnes, Marquis Paran had been sending her all over Loviden for extended periods of time. The rumored reasons varied, but the one he remembered was that she had been utterly humiliated during his knighting ceremony when he pledged his geas to the Princess. Even Agnes thought it was a plausible story since she herself was convinced that Isobel had been avoiding her ever since.

On the few occasions that Ursuline had seen her, she no longer resembled the foolish love-sick girl who looked like she was in a trance each time he glanced her way. Isobel Paran had matured into a beautiful and elegant young woman. Still, he had no desire to marry her and her extended absences from court worked in his favor. Over time, most of the nobles seemed to have forgotten their engagement and the pressure to marry, even from his own family, ceased. Ursuline had always thought that it was, perhaps, because he was becoming even more prominent by his own right as the distinguished nobleman of the Remdragon Knights.

Gabel yawned, interrupting his musings. “As much as I enjoy talking about your betrothed, whom I truly believe does not actually exist… I am tired from having just arrived moments ago. I am going to take a bath, perhaps with that one pretty servant... Then, have my meal... which may also be the pretty servant."

Ursuline rolled his eyes.

"I bid you goodnight, Ricaydo.”

“I appreciate this,” Ursuline waved the thick letter before unfolding it. “If Riftan sends you back to Drachium instead of me, can you deliver my response?”

“Oh, good grief…” Gabel grumbled as he opened the door and pulled it shut. 

Ursuline smiled to himself and sat down in front of the fireplace. 

It had been almost a year since he replied to Gilbreth’s last letter and he had been worried sick that something might have happened to him.

In his writings, Gilbreth always updated him regarding his health and activities; what’s been buzzing around Drachium; and the developments surrounding his family. He also wrote to him about the most random things– like something he saw at the marketplace, or a memory he had from his glory days as a talented mage. It didn't matter, Ursuline loved to read about it all. Having realized that Gilbreth had become the father that he never had, Ursuline held him close to his heart the day he was knighted and his life was threatened, although he would never openly admit it. Each time the ever-inquisitive Gabel teased him about actually having a heart, he would get angry and tell him that his communication with Gilbreth was strictly to be kept abreast of what was happening inside his home and nothing more.

Ursuline set the letter down for a moment, then continued reading. A crease had formed on his forehead when he read about Trevor’s ongoing shady dealings with nobles outside of Wedon and his deteriorating relationship with the Count. According to Gilbreth, Trevor was also slowly losing power and influence in Drachium and within the Royal Army due to his vices, and their father’s health had gotten worse from the stress of covering up for his eldest son. 

Long after, a smile began to crack his stern countenance. He learned that his cousin Caleb had secured a good position as a Royal Knight and had asked that Gilbreth extend his greetings and well-wishes to Ursuline. 

‘Master Caleb said that if you ever come home, for me to warn you that he will put your strength, skills, and good looks to shame. He believes that he can finally beat you when you two spar... Any time, any place… Just choose any weapon except for a sword.’

Moron…

Ursuline chuckled, then proceeded to read page after page, and by the time he had finished Gilbreth’s very long letter, he was exhausted once again.

He stretched his arms and yawned, then hid the letters in his boot and went to bed with stories of his own, ready to be transferred to parchment following day. And he would shock Gilbreth with his first topic, just for fun…  He would begin his letter with how a naked and beautiful, but shameless noblewoman had once again ambushed him during his sleep, but thanks to his sensibility and motivation to avoid being anything like Trevor or Razvan, he was able to act rationally and refuse her advances.

Satisfied with his plan, Ursuline smiled and closed his eyes.

Chapter Text

Months had passed. 

Ursuline rose steadily among the ranks, besting almost all of his previous superiors, even Gabel Lachzion, and was almost appointed as Vice-Commander of the Remdragon Knights. 

If he had been willing to bend the rules of engagement and aimed his weapon just slightly below Hebaron’s belt, he would’ve felled the giant of a man, no doubt. He could’ve made it look unintentional. No one would’ve known the truth but him. As a bonus, Hebaron would’ve finally stopped his childish jests about the countless maidens who’ve been touched by his other sword, at least for a while. Ursuline found it juvenile and disgusting, and was the root of most of their petty arguments as of late.

‘You really need to get laid, Ricaydo. Release all the pent up anger you’ve been carrying for years…’

‘Shut up. I hope your member falls off, you man-whore...’

As the entire order celebrated Hebaron’s appointment as Riftan’s second-in-command with a meager celebration in Anatol, Elliot took the seat next to Ursuline and offered him a mug of ale.

He shook his head. “You know I don’t drink…”

“It's pointless to sulk… Why don’t you just let loose tonight? You shouldn’t be so bitter about your loss to Hebaron.”

Ursuline clicked his tongue, surprised by his uncharacteristically insulting words. “Fuck off, Charon,” he scoffed.

“Stop licking your wounds because there aren’t any… That was the best match we had all seen in a very long time.”

“Hmph.”

“And… I’m not the only one who saw the vulnerability in Hebaron’s defensive stance earlier.”

He looked at Elliot incredulously. “I don’t know what you mean,” he denied. 

“C’mon… You could’ve hit him right in the groin, but you didn’t.” 

“…”

“If it were a contest of chivalry, you would’ve been the winner.”

“Well, it wasn’t…”

“Yes. Hebaron won the match, fair and square,” Elliot stated reassuringly. “But you have our respect for not playing dirty… I’m sure he knows it too.” He held out his hand, “Well done, Sir Ricaydo.”

Ursuline smiled bitterly and shook it, feeling somewhat vindicated about his loss. He had, indeed, proved to be a worthy opponent for Hebaron Nirtha in spite of their contrasting frames and fighting styles. With the exception of Riftan, no other Remdragon Knight had Hebaron so winded and bruised after a match. 

Just as they finished speaking, Hebaron squeezed his large frame between them, half-drunk. His ale, almost spilling all over Ursuline.

“How are you doing, loser?” he playfully asked him with reddened cheeks. “No hard feelings?” His words were hardly intelligible.

Ursuline glared at Elliot, “You were saying?…” he asked sarcastically. “This buffoon knows what?…” Then, he took the mug out of Hebaron’s hand and gulped its contents.

“Hey! That’s mine…” he whined.

“Alright, Charon… Let’s celebrate this slurring lout.”

“That’s Vice-Commander Slurring Lout to you…” Hebaron’s voice trailed off before he began to hiccup. “Shit.”

Ursuline looked at him, and sighed before a smirk appeared on his face.

You may have won the match, Hebaron Nirtha…  But I know that I’m the better swordsman.

(A few years later.)

News of the waking dragon in the Lexos Mountains had already began circulating around the kingdom and although Ursuline had fantasized about actually venturing into no-man’s land and battling the most fearsome beast to ever exist, he was relieved that Riftan had enough sense to decline Duke Croyso’s preposterous offer to lead the Dragon Campaign in exchange for his daughter’s hand. 

Of course, they all knew that his refusal would earn Riftan the vindictive man’s ire, but what came next when a few men accompanied him to confront the Duke was totally unexpected, even for someone as cynical and suspicious as Ursuline. 

He removed his belt and sword and tossed them on the bed. Then, he sat on the edge of the mattress and stared at the wall; his mind, still reeling from the sudden turn of events. 

While in the drawing room of Croyso Castle, he was absolutely convinced that Riftan had devised some clever way to put the arrogant and shameless Duke in his place– making it clear that he wasn’t going to be strong-armed into whatever devious plan he had concocted. 

He had expected Riftan to return to them with his head held high and his stepfather freed. Or… in the worst case he imagined, that they would be preparing to retaliate against the Duke. 

Instead, Ursuline and the rest of the men were shocked to learn that their Commander would be marrying Maximilian Croyso the very next day. Only then would Novan be released, then he would actually lead the campaign to the Lexos Mountains in the Duke’s stead. 

Confounded, Ursuline ran a hand through his hair and pulled at it, his eyes shut so tightly that he could imagine Duke Croyso’s smug face.

What the fuck happened?... How could he let that conniving gutless swine have his way?...  

He fell back into the mattress, clenching his teeth. As he racked his brain trying to understand how Riftan failed to stand his ground, his confusion turned into anger.

Even if that Novan was once his stepfather, he has no obligation towards him now. Riftan had been on his own since he was twelve, for fuck’s sake… What could’ve possibly swayed him to this degree? 

Ursuline let out an exasperated sigh. 

The past or the reason don’t matter. 

Taking a deep breath, he sat back up. There was no time to waste. Ursuline had less than a day to try and find a solution to Riftan’s predicament, to their predicament. However, he needed to be able to wrap his head around his decision in order to do so. With that, he stood up and replaced his belt and sword, then he headed out of the guest chambers.

“Commander,” Ursuline began as he knocked on the door impatiently. “I must speak with you. Open the door.” 

His tone was bordering on insolence, but he didn’t care. He was prepared for the barrage of curses that he’d surely receive for his intrusion, and if Riftan refused to answer the door, he had no intention of leaving until he did. 

To his surprise, the heavy door opened within seconds. 

Ursuline shook his head at Riftan who stood before him with a deadpan expression, then made his way inside his room without asking for permission. “Is there no other option?” he asked, folding his arms.

Riftan shut the door without a reply and walked towards the decanter of wine on a table and removed the glass cap. 

“How did it come to this?...” 

“I couldn’t let an innocent man die...” he murmured with his back turned to Ursuline. “Not for me.” He picked up a goblet for a moment, but set it back down. Then, he began to drink directly from the decanter, practically emptying it in a matter of seconds.

Ursuline narrowed his eyes. Riftan was trying to remain calm and composed, but it was evident how stressed and unnerved he really was.

After drinking, he replaced the vessel on the table. “The life of a peasant may be trivial in your opinion, but... What’s done is done.”

“Your stepfather’s status has no bearing on his innocence, and I am offended that you presume to think that just because I’m a noble–”

“Cut the bullshit,” Riftan snarled. “I know you’re angry about my decision so just say what you have to say because this may be your only chance!”

Ursuline paused then sighed. “There will always be honor in sacrificing oneself to save an innocent man’s life…”

Riftan scoffed. 

“Yes, I am absolutely furious... Yet, I understand why you’re doing this.”

“Don’t patronize me, Ricaydo,” Riftan responded with sarcasm before turning to him.

“Duke Croyso put you in an impossible situation. That scum gave you no choice but to comply in order to uphold your honor.”

Riftan looked down at the floor. There was a hint of shame on his face which Ursuline found strange. 

“Isn’t that why you agreed?… For honor and chivalry?”

“…”

“Still, I refuse to stand by idly and let that vile coward take advantage of the order—“

“I don’t plan on involving the rest of you in my decision so don’t worry about it.”

“What do you mean?“

“I just have a favor to ask...” Riftan rubbed his face and spoke with reluctance. “Would you ask Elliot to find Novan’s wife and daughter and make sure they’re safe? And send a message to Hebaron about the change in plans?…”

He frowned. 

“We can still fix this.”

Riftan ignored his statement. “I’ll need you to stay here at Croyso Castle through the wedding… Keep me posted on the developments.”

“But I  should find a way to—”

“Enough!” he growled impatiently. “Just do as I ask! For now, I just want to be alone.”

Ursuline sighed, his frustration returning. “Riftan—“

“Just go,” he mumbled with a shake of his head. “Please...”

With that, Ursuline nodded and left his chambers.

Three years had passed since they arrived at the Lexos Mountains and now, their mission was finally over. Riftan had defeated Sektor.

Although he had long accepted the possibility that he would never leave that place alive, that he would die fighting alongside his brothers, Ursuline was beyond grateful for their victory. Like many of the Remdragon Knights, he felt indebted to Riftan for his second chance at life, for leading them through the painful and grueling campaign that almost drove them to madness and desperation. Now, they would be welcomed by all as the heroes of the continent, and their Commander will be hailed as the true incarnation of Rossem Wigrew. Their sacrifices, blood, sweat and tears hadn’t been for naught, and life would get even better once Riftan accepted King Reuben’s proposal of granting him a divorce from Maximilian Croyso if he were to accept Princess Agnes’ hand in marriage. 

It was an offer that was formally made to him months before the campaign ended, when winning the war felt impossible and the fiery morale of the allied forces had been almost reduced to cinders. 

The fate of the continent rested on Riftan’s shoulders, and perhaps, King Reuben had used Agnes as an incentive to turn things around for his favored vassal. Ursuline, of course, had always believed that Riftan would see their mission through. 

Failure was never an option for their brave leader. There was really no need for the King of Wedon to make such an astonishing proposition to motivate him to reach for victory. Still, he couldn’t ignore the advantages of becoming part of the Royal Family. Riftan would be free of the union that had been shoved down his throat three years ago and relieve him of any further obligation to the Duke of Croyso; the power, influence, and reputation of the Remdragon Knights would reach unprecedented levels, surpassing any other order in Wedon; and best of all, that bastard Duke would be humiliated beyond redemption. He would have to bow down to the same lowborn whom he trapped in his underhanded scheme, and that same man would soon cast him and his filthy daughter aside as if they were rubbish, and wield more power then he with the Princess as his wife.

To Ursuline, the resolution was akin to the light of a very long and narrow tunnel. He detested Duke Croyso with every fiber of his being. Hate wasn’t even strong enough of a word to describe his sentiments towards that dispicable man. Conniving, manipulative, cowardly… Dirtier than dirt, and more foul than any rotting carcass he could imagine. He wished all possible ill on the Duke, and now, justice and retribution would finally be served.

Ursuline was also keen on the idea of having two people whom he cared for, admired and respected sharing their life together. In his eyes, Riftan and Agnes made a lovely and practical couple. They worked well on the battlefield and were able to tolerate each other for the past three years. His Commander may be brooding and crass, but he was a good man; while the Princess, although stubborn, was rational and down-to-earth. Aside from their bickering, their personalities seemed to compliment each other. 

There was only one problem– Riftan Calypse refused to divorce Maximillian Croyso in spite of all reason, defying their expectations.

The day he informed the Princess and wrote a message to the King of his decision to stay in his pointless marriage, Ursuline was livid. It was an insult not only to the crown, but to the rest of the Remdragon Knights who had supported him through everything.

“Need I remind you that Duke Croyso blackmailed you?!” Ursuline argued as he banged his fist on the table while meeting with Gabel, Hebaron, and Riftan. “He sent us all to our deaths, yet you want to remain chained to his daughter? Don’t be foolish! This is the perfect opportunity to get rid of her!”

“Stand down, Ricaydo.” Gabel said as he held Ursuline back by the arm. “It’s the Commander’s choice… You’re out of line.”

Ursuline shot him daggers with his eyes.

“I understand your bias since you are a close confidante of the royal family–”

“This isn’t bias! You bastards all feel the same!… You just refuse to say so!”

“I agree with Ricaydo on this, Riftan,” Hebaron calmly cut in. “Think this through… It’s not too late to change your mind.”

“Did this place drive you to insanity, or have you no concept of gratitude… of duty?!” Ursuline spewed. “You are the King’s vassal! Where is your loyalty?! He has always supported you, trusted you, and now you dare bite the hand that fed you–”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Riftan spoke each word slowly and threateningly. “Do not lecture me about  gratitude… or duty, you self-righteous fuck. At least I can honor my marital obligations…”

Sensing that it was a jab at his own long-time betrothal to Isobel Paran that he had now been avoiding for years, Ursuline clamped his mouth shut. 

“My marriage is none of your damn business,” Riftan continued, looking at the three of them. “Or do you all now deem me incompetent as your Commander just because I am choosing honor by carrying-out a life-long vow that I made before God?”

“…”

“Speak!” he bellowed. “If any of you feel that I am no longer capable of leading the Remdragon Knights because of this decision, then say it.”

Ursuline, Gabel and Hebaron cast their gazes downward, unable to reply.  

Riftan was right. Ursuline had no right to meddle in his personal affairs so long as it didn’t affect his leadership. He was more than capable of continuing to lead them. He did, after all, manage to keep his wits about him and find a way to defeat the dragon even when they had thought all hope was lost. 

He scolded himself inwardly. Had he expressed his thoughts more eloquently as expected of someone of noble status and his position as the order’s third-in-command, had he taken a calmer and more rational approach in their discussion, then perhaps Riftan would’ve been more inclined to listen. 

“My decision is final,” Riftan then stated with conviction.

Ursuline felt sick. Why on earth would he refuse the intelligent, talented, and beautiful Princess Agnes for that stuck-up whore that the Duke forced on him three years ago? They spent one evening together out of obligation, and the fact that she had ignored his orders for her to reside in Anatol, and didn’t even bother writing him a single letter for the entire duration of the campaign  was enough proof of her lack of respect for him as her husband and her blatant disregard for his life.

How could you ignore all of that?… Why tolerate that awful woman?…

The fact that he and the rest of the knights would now have to tolerate her as well made him want to jump out of his skin. She was of Duke Croyso’s flesh and blood, and any service to her would be, in extension, a service to that piece of shit.

You’ve lost your fucking mind, Riftan…

Finally, he looked up and stared at him, struggling to quell his seething anger.

“Do we still have a problem here, Ricaydo?” Riftan asked him sharply. “I will let this slide… We’ve been in these mountains for too long… But I will not be so forgiving of such impudence from any of you in the future, especially towards my wife.”

Ursuline’s eye twitched while Gabel and Hebaron nodded their heads in agreement.

Something had changed in an instant and Ursuline feared that he would never again see his Commander in the same light. He tried desperately to understand his decision, but couldn't. All he knew was that for the first time, he was utterly disgusted and disappointed in him. Perhaps, in due time, he could forgive Riftan’s foolishness, but he was sure of one thing… He hated anything and everything that was related to Duke Croyso, and he had no intention of hiding it. Maximillian Croyso will never have his respect, support nor allegiance, and he could only hope that the Commander will see her for the only thing she is– her father’s daughter. 

Riftan was the first to leave the tent.

“That went well…” Hebaron hummed sarcastically. “I swear, Ricaydo… Someone needs to file down that tongue of yours.”

Suddenly, Ruth entered the tent.

“What have you three done?” he inquired in an accusing tone. “Sir Riftan just informed me that we are to head directly to Croyso tomorrow to fetch this wife… and that includes all three of you.”

“Dammit, Ricaydo…” Hebaron groaned. 

“You should’ve just kept your mouth shut… Now, you gave him an idea…” Gabel added.

“Oh, piss off!” Ursuline grumbled, marching out of the tent. “Blaming me when neither of you had the bollocks to speak up…

Chapter Text

Ursuline Ricaydo.

Isobel was told that she had been promised to him when she was just an infant. 

‘Promised?’

‘Yes.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘When you’re old enough, he will be your husband and you, his wife.’

Her brows furrowed. ‘My husband?... But I don’t even know who he is.’

‘You‘ll be meeting him tonight at the banquet.’

‘Oh.’

Marchioness Paran tilted her head. ‘Don’t worry, darling… Everything will be alright. I didn’t know your father either when I was told that I was going to be married to him. Now, look at us. We’re perfectly happy, especially with a sweet daughter like you.’

‘Will we be happy too?’

‘Yes.’

‘How do you know?’ she asked with eager eyes.

Her mother patted her head reassuringly. ‘Because it’s destiny.’

Promised… Happy… Destiny. 

Even at her young age, the words sounded magical and she imagined the wonderful life she was going to have later on.

‘What does he look like, Mum?’

She thought for a moment. ‘He’s a handsome young man with fair skin and golden hair... Eyes as blue as the ocean on a sunny day.’

Isobel smiled back from ear to ear. ‘He sounds… beautiful.’

And, indeed, beautiful he was. 

She saw Ursuline Ricaydo for the first time at their betrothal dinner and was instantly smitten as she watched him pretend to listen to the adults speak, drink mindlessly from his goblet, and play with the food on his plate. 

Isobel had never been so fascinated by a boy in her entire young life, especially after hearing everyone speak so highly of him. 

When she learned that he was ill, she was genuinely worried. She hoped that someone would care and tend to him like her mother and nanny did whenever she was sick.

In the weeks that followed, she daydreamed of the brooding aloof young man with the handsome face. Thoughts of him occupied her days, even while she was playing with dolls, helping the servants around the castle, or sneaking past the castle walls to play with the peasant children. And each time she caught a glimpse of him, his presence brought on curious sensations. Her knees would shake or her belly would feel like it was full of happy butterflies. 

On the few times she heard him speak, it was music to her ears. His voice wasn’t yet deep and commanding like that of the knights or her father’s, but it was confident and firm. He spoke with such eloquence, his words smooth as silk, that it made the young ladies around him almost swoon. Although he had never once said a word to her, nor she to him, Isobel often imagined them in conversation, mimicking the dialogues between knights and their damsels in the stories that her mother or nanny would read to her at night. Sometimes, she would be so immersed in her folly that she’d speak their imaginary dialogues out loud, and one day, Ursuline caught her talking to herself in the garden at Drachium Palace. She was so mortified that she cried and ran away to hide.

Ever since that day, he seemed to avoid her, and on the few occasions that they saw each other, a scowl would instantly form on his lips. 

‘...When you’re old enough, he will be your husband and you, his wife… Because it’s destiny.’

Her mother's words were like a promise set in stone, and Isobel refused to let that little mishap dampen her spirits. She continued to let her imagination run wild as if she were manifesting her future. However, she made sure not to fantasize about Ursuline out loud for others to hear.

When it was time for her to begin her formal lessons on etiquette and how to be a lady, she promised herself that she would master everything and become the perfect noblewoman. She would grow up to be Ursuline’s perfect bride… His perfect wife. One day, they would have perfect children with his golden hair and deep blue eyes, and life would be sublime. He would be a distinguished knight of the Royal Army and her doting husband, and she, the lady of his castle who would take care of him and raise their precious progeny.

When Princess Agnes befriended her and told her that they would have beautiful children, Isobel decided that she and Ursuline would have three sons, followed by two daughters. She even had names picked out.

Young Isobel was a dreamer, full of hope that Ursuline would one day be just as enamored with her; and blissfully ignorant of the fact that almost all noble marriages were practical and political, forged out of necessity. 

In her case, her father had agreed that she be promised to Ursuline Ricaydo not because of his family name, reputation, or because of their close ties to the crown, but in order to keep a secret concealed.

Isobel’s parents, Remilard and Aelita Paran, had fallen genuinely in love by the time they married and were eager to start a family. However, Aelita suffered several miscarriages and a still-birth within the first few years of their union and it began to strain their relationship. Weary from his wife’s inability to provide him an heir, the Marquis had a moment of weakness and bedded a commoner.

Nine months later, while Aelita was suffering another devastating still-birth, Remilard's mistress delivered a healthy baby girl. Unfortunately, the woman died shortly after birth. 

Upon learning that he had an illegitimate child, Remilard revealed his infidelity to Aelita, who forgave him due to her feelings of inadequacy for being unable to bear him an heir. Together, they agreed to raise the infant as their own, and claimed that they had kept her birth a secret.

Everyone in Drachium thought that the Paran’s finally had their miracle baby… All except Razvan Ricaydo, who knew the truth since the commoner woman was one of his servants. 

‘There’s a rather simple solution to your problem. Let me help you.’

‘Since when have you ever helped anyone, Razvan? You mean to blackmail me…’

’Don’t insult me, Remi,’ he replied as he smirked. ‘I may be your only hope.’

The Marquis frowned. ‘So what do you have in mind?’

‘Have your bastard marry my second son.’

‘Bastard? My Isobel is not—‘

Razvan held up his hand to silence him. ‘That’s exactly what she is, Remi… A dirty little secret that could ruin you and Aelita, especially since she claims it to be her own flesh and blood.’ 

‘…’

‘Can you imagine the magnitude of the scandal if everyone learned the truth? No one here in Drachium will sympathize with a Marquis who cheated on his wife with a servant… And a Marchioness who accepts her husband’s bastard as her own would be considered a disgrace… Think about it.’

‘What’s in it for you?’

Razvan smiled. ‘I won’t lie... Your wealth and influence would help Trevor if our families formed an alliance through marriage.’ Seeing the discomfort on Remilard’s face, he tutted. ‘Perhaps if you had a boy, you’d have other options…’

‘…’

‘I’m the one swallowing my pride by making you this offer… A bastard with peasant blood becoming my daughter-in-law?’ 

‘They are our children, Razvan… Are they really to be used as pawns in a game?’

He scoffed. ‘I am giving you the chance to secure your daughter’s status, while I raise my sons’... You call them pawns, but pawns aren’t treated with such consideration.’

‘…’

‘Accept my offer… You know it’s the right thing to do.’

After Ursuline left the Royal Army and joined the Remdragon Knights, little by little, Isobel became disenchanted with him. Even more so when he returned for his knighting ceremony and pledged his geas to Princess Agnes in front of the entire kingdom.

She understood that such oath’s were rarely given to a wife or betrothed; that it was given to someone that a knight highly respected. She was well-aware that the Princess had been good friends with Ursuline for a long time so his pledge shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Still, it bothered her… So much that she couldn’t help but run off during the ceremony and embarrass herself. 

Almost instantly after that incident, Isobel became the topic of gossip and ridicule, and although she knew it would never happen, she wished that Ursuline would explain himself and console her. Or, at least, acknowledge her for once. Instead, he, once again, left Drachium shortly without notice. 

It finally hit her- Ursuline didn’t care about her at all.

After months of contemplation, Isobel asked her parents to end their engagement, but they refused since doing so would cause a scandal. Her father had all sorts of excuses for Ursuline’s behavior, and her mother insisted that things between them would improve over time; all she needed to do was be patient. But as the years passed, Ursuline remained indifferent, and he felt completely beyond reach by the time she was of marrying age.

Whenever he was in the capital, it was often under secret orders from the Crown. And if ever the Parans were aware of Ursuline’s presence, he never stayed long enough for their families to discuss or initiate any wedding plans due to his important missions and the Remdragon Knights’ increasing involvement in the conflict at the Dristanian border.

Any information that Isobel knew about Ursuline was second-hand from her parents or the gossip-mill at court. 

Soon, it all became too exhausting for her. She struggled with trying to see the positive side in being engaged to a man like him. Everyone seemed to favor him over her, in spite of his callousness. Year after year, she suffered in silence and maintained her composed facade while everyone talked behind her back.

‘Look at Isobel Paran…  All grown up, rivaling the most beautiful and elegant women in all of Wedon, yet Sir Ricaydo treats her like she’s invisible.’

‘And no eligible bachelor would dare approach her, lest they test the wrath of Count Ricaydo and Marquis Paran.’

‘You know, I hear Sir Ursuline has secret lovers here in Wedon and in Dristan…”

“No, he doesn’t… But if he did, could you blame him? Why would he want to be tied down to just one woman… Especially to one as odd as Lady Paran?’

‘She still associates with servants and peasants. Sir Ricaydo is probably ashamed.’

‘Well, so much for having a faithful fiancé… What good is it if he’ll never marry her?’

Isobel was so distressed that she decided to break etiquette and ask Ursuline Ricaydo that very same question. 

Why not? Haven’t I earned that right to know, having waited for him all this time?...

She sat in the study and glided her quill across parchment after parchment. She had been able to compose a proper introduction, but her head began to ache from thinking of how she should phrase her strange inquiry.

"Darling?..." the Marquis interrupted.

Isobel was so engrossed in her writing that he had startled her. Droplets of ink fell from her quill and ruined her most decent draft. She set it down and looked up. The Marquis’ face was pale and his expression, somber.

"What’s the matter, Father?” she asked. Then, she crumpled the parchment in her hands and tossed it into the fireplace.

He sighed and walked towards her, stopping a few feet away. "I wanted you to hear the truth from me first… before any more rumors spread."

She sighed wearily. "About?"

"Ursuline. He has volunteered to go to the Lexos Mountains… He will be joining Sir Calypse, after all."

"I see."

"I’m sorry, darling. Count Razvan and I did all we could to keep him from leaving, but–"

"It’s quite alright, Father…"

Isobel felt a knot forming in her stomach, but she kept a placid expression. She swallowed hard and looked at the blank parchment on the desk.

The Dragon Campaign was said to be an incredibly difficult mission. That it was practically a death-sentence for the knights and mages who would be sent there to battle the fiercest beast to ever exist. She wasn’t sure why, but her father and the Ricaydo’s had used their pull and influence to keep Ursuline from going.

She smiled bitterly.

Did he volunteer to go to no-man's land to get farther away from me?... 

"He is a knight. He has a duty to Wedon," she murmured. "I should be proud that my fiance is putting the people’s safety before his own." She looked at her father again, "Did he, at least, send a word of farewell?"

The Marquis shook his head and Isobel raised her chin to still the tears that were welling in her eyes and maintain her poise. 

Don’t cry… Don’t be upset… Keep your wits about you and don't you dare worry for him. He doesn’t care about you, remember?…

Finally, Isobel let out an empty chuckle as she daintily rubbed the corners of her eyes.

"Are you alright?"

She nodded. "Funny... I was about to do something absolutely mad."

Her father narrowed his eyes.

"I was going to write to him… Ask him why he won’t marry me."

The Marquis’ face fell at her act of desperation. He rushed towards her, getting down on his knees to embrace her. “Oh, darling…” he sighed, unsure of what to say. 

"Perhaps I’ll never know the answer…"

Chapter Text

“So… With all of the wedding announcements that have been made since our return, I’m assuming that you’ll soon be making one as well?” Agnes asked Ursuline playfully as they walked side by side to the Great Hall for the banquet.

He curled his lip. “Just because most of the knights who returned alive are giddy with desire to marry their lover or betrothed, it doesn’t mean I’ll be joining that bandwagon of buffoonery.”

“Oh, come now, Ursuline.” She rolled her eyes. “Now would be the perfect time for you to finally get married.” A smile appeared on Agnes’ face. “And how romantic would it be if you proposed to Isobel in front of everyone during the victory ceremony?… It’ll surely make up for that little incident when you were knighted.”

“I bet,” she continued with enthusiasm. “She would gladly say yes and all would be forgiven.” 

“Ugh.” 

Agnes frowned. “Do you ever plan on getting married?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he deflected.

She glared at him. 

“Apologies, Princess… How could I forget so easily?” he smiled sheepishly.

“Anyway… She’s not the same girl you left. Isobel Paran has, indeed, become the epitome of beauty, grace and elegance… And all that time she’s spent away from Drachium has left her well-educated, cultured, and intelligent–”

“I still can’t believe that you had people spy on her for you during the campaign,” he tutted. “And really?...‘ Epitome?’”

“Oh, please…” she groaned defensively. “Someone had to keep an eye on your fiance for you. Were you really fine with that Lew Cayden escorting her all over Loviden, given your history as squires for the Royal Knights?”

Ursuline sighed, irritated. At the beginning of the campaign, Agnes had told him that the cowardly bastard had used his father’s connections to evade being sent to the Lexos Mountains; and he suspected that Cayden may have agreed to lead Isobel’s escort parties just to spite him and start rumors between them.

“At least, she remained faithful to you,” Agnes jabbered on. “I mean, I think Sir Cayden is rather homely, but the ladies find him charming and personable… But mind you, she had also been in the company of many handsome and eligible bachelors who could’ve easily swept her off her feet.”

“I was faithful as well,” he replied sarcastically. “Why won’t you commend that?”

“And who, praytell, would you have cheated with at the Lexos, you dope?” she sneered. “The few female mages besides me were, technically, the first ones to die, and your only option would’ve been those old healers with no teeth who stayed at the camps... Even the likes of Gabel Lachzion and Hebaron Nirtha wouldn’t touch them with a spear.”

Ursuline recalled memories of how some of the old women would practically throw themselves at the two knights after learning of their reputation as rakes. It went on until they were sent back to their home countries or perished. As strange and morbid as it was, he couldn’t help but chuckle.

Agnes clicked her tongue. “I’m not trying to be funny, Ursuline.”

“Alright. Point taken.”

“She’s here for the celebration. Grab her before she has the chance to escape.”

“...”

“I’ve seen her, my friend… You won’t be disappointed.”

“You spoke with her?...” he asked incredulously. “After all this time?”

“No. But if you do as I suggest, then she and I can finally be friends again.”

Ursuline chuckled dryly. “With respect… I will not be proposing to Isobel Paran, especially not in front of everyone.”

“And why not?” she asked sternly with a pout. 

Oh, Agnes… My dear, meddling Agnes. If you only knew the real reasons why.

“Let’s not discuss it now, Princess.”

They had finally reached the Great Hall. Agnes took his elbow and the guards pulled the door open for them to enter. Her arrival was announced by the herald, then Ursuline escorted her to her seat before making his way to the Remdragon Knights. 

He pressed the space between his eyes. 

Between Riftan’s bizarre behavior ever since they fetched his wife from Croyso, trying to placate King Reuben for their late arrival and the rejection of his marriage proposal, and receiving messages from his father and Marquis Paran to finally get married since the campaign has ended, the truth was, Ursuline was feeling rather overwhelmed. He looked around and took a deep breath to brace himself. He hadn’t seen his father, brother, or the Parans yet, but running into them was inevitable and he was running out of excuses to further delay his marriage to Isobel.

Suddenly, Gabel pulled him aside. 

“You need to go check on your horse…” he said as he discreetly handed Ursuline a piece of folded parchment. 

He looked in his hand, recognizing the material and seal. “He’s here?” he whispered, surprised.

“Go now before anyone else sees him. He says it’s important.”

Ursuline pocketed the letter and hurried out of the Great Hall while Gabel distracted the nearby guests by making conversation and drawing in a small crowd as he began to talk about the campaign. But before Ursuline could head to the stables, he needed to collect something from his private chambers.

He turned a corner and looked out towards one of the palace’s lush gardens. There, he noticed two figures– a man was engaged in conversation with a woman whose back was turned to Ursuline. Her hair was in an elegant updo that showed the delicate curves of her neck and shoulders.

Another one…

Such sightings weren’t unusual during large celebrations as couples often engaged in romantic rendezvous away from the crowds to whisper sweet nothings to each other. Sometimes, their interactions would be much more intimate, even going as far as having trysts in the shadows. Ursuline always frowned upon such lewd behavior, but minded his own business whenever he unwillingly witnessed them. 

He was about to turn his head away until he recognized the man. 

Lew Cayden.

His lips curled in with disgust. Who did that fraud manage to fool to risk being seen with him in such a compromising situation?

Soon, Lew noticed him walking through the hall and gave him an arrogant smile. Then, the woman also turned to look at Ursuline. 

At that very moment, Ursuline steps halted without him realizing it, and he stood frozen on the spot. 

His eyes locked with Isobel Paran’s.

Agnes was right. She was, indeed, beautiful. Her rose colored gown complimented her porcelain skin. She had the face of a nymph, even under the lamplights; a sight to behold, especially after three long years of not seeing a single woman he found attractive. 

Not bad at all to be my wife…

Then, confusion seeped into his head. 

What on earth was he thinking just now? But more importantly, what was she doing there with Lew Cayden?

He moved his gaze back to Lew who observed him and Isobel with amusement. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was taken aback, Ursuline nodded and gave them a faint smile before continuing on. 

After taking a few steps, he looked back. Isobel appeared to say something to Lew before heading towards another path leading back to the Great Hall. After a few moments, Lew Cayden went off in another direction further into the garden. 

Unconsciously, Ursuline’s jaw clenched. 

“... Were you really fine with Sir Lew Cayden escorting her all over Loviden, given your history as squires for the Royal Knights?... At least, she remained faithful to you…”

Was Agnes mistaken? Did Isobel betray him for, of all people, that beady-eyed sissy?? 

She wouldn’t… Agnes would’ve known.

He roughly ran a hand through his hair. 

If Isobel was guilty of something, she surely would’ve panicked. She would’ve ran off or hid, or at least, avoided his gaze. But, instead, she looked straight at him.

It was her reaction, or rather… lack thereof, that bothered him. 

Her eyes, once filled with fascination and wonderment, had stared back at him with indifference; without any hint of pleasure. And when she walked away, she didn’t even bother sparing him another glance. 

Why did she do that?…

Recalling his reasons for not wanting to marry her, he steeled himself.

He shouldn’t care about her reaction. It meant nothing. In fact, if she hated him, then it was all the better. It won’t be so difficult to delay his marriage to her again.

Finally, Ursuline reached his bedchambers. He grabbed a stack of letters that he had hidden in his belongings and headed to the stables.

Isobel entered one of the parlors right outside of the Great Hall and closed the door, leaning against it. Now that she was completely alone, she took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

Had her eyes deceived her? After so many years of seeing nothing but a frown on his face, Ursuline Ricaydo finally gave her a smile. A thin one, but a smile nonetheless. 

He looked so handsome with his slightly sun-kissed face, probably from the harsh conditions he faced during the Dragon Campaign. But did she really expect any less? Ursuline was said to always look neat and dashing, even after emerging freshly from the battlefield.

Heavens... 

She buried her face in her gloved hands, embarrassed by her thoughts and her weakness. How could one moment, one look at him after the last few years suddenly completely change her mind?

Isobel was convinced that she would forever detest the man after he left her again without notice. After months of crying over him, she had refused to hear any updates pertaining to Ursuline and made it a point to travel frequently to keep herself preoccupied and avoid thinking of him. Eventually, she prepared herself for the news of his demise. So many had perished on those mountains… Killed by whatever was lurking there, or had been disintegrated by the dragon’s breath or its fiery attacks. If Ursuline had died, it would have finally put her out of her misery. 

She was doing just fine. She had discovered a new world without Ursuline Ricaydo, but when she learned that he was alive and would be returning to Drachium, she thanked God and hurried back from Livadon to see what fate still had in store for them. 

It took all her strength to remain calm and collected when she saw him just moments ago, but now, the walls she had built over the last few years were starting to crack... And all it took was his faint smile.

Stupid girl. You know exactly how awkward it must have been for him to see you with Sir Cayden... Maybe he was just trying to be polite.

Isobel shook her head and patted her cheeks as if she were trying to bring herself back to reality. She couldn’t help but feel some excitement and trepidation, but guilt also racked her conscience. What if Ursuline thought something immoral was going on between her and Lew Cayden? Maybe she shouldn’t have accompanied him to the garden, even if it was just to talk about his pending betrothal to Lady Joanna. 

Isobel sighed. 

With all the time they had spent traveling together and Lew keeping her safe as her escort, it was the least she could do. He just needed to vent his frustrations about having to marry someone he didn’t want to.

But Ursuline smiled at me… If it had bothered him, he wouldn’t have. 

Isobel took another deep breath and tidied herself before leaving the parlor, hoping that she would see him again at the banquet. Perhaps, she'll have the chance to explain herself.

“What are you doing here, Old Man?” Ursuline asked with a wry smile as he entered his horse’s stall. “You were supposed to wait for my response, yet you handed Lachzion another letter,” he teased. “Can’t you follow rules anymore? Your brain is turning into mush?”

”My faculties are still quite intact. I found my way here undetected, didn’t I? Although running into Sir Lachzion was pure coincidence,” he answered feebly as he stood up from a bale of hay. “Thank you for seeing me with hardly any notice, not-so-young Master. I’m so very glad you’ve come back and are in one piece.”

“As am I. Now, sit back down,” Ursuline ordered. “Talk to me.” He began to brush his hand on Seigal’s back and the horse snorted with affection. 

“I must leave Drachium.”

Ursuline’s brow curled. “Why?”

The old man sighed. “I helped one of the chambermaids escape–”

“Is it Trevor, again?”

Gilbreth nodded. “She wasn’t with child, but the number of times he had taken advantage of her was just…” A look of guilt veiled his face. ”I had to do something this time.”

Ursuline’s fist clenched and he banged on the wooden post next to him, causing Siegal to stir restlessly as if he were sharing his sentiments. “He needs to pay for what he’s done.” 

“Justice isn’t quick to smite the rich and powerful, Master… And the Count will protect Sir Trevor until his last breath.” 

“Tell me what happened and how you plan to escape… Don’t leave out any details," he asked as he calmed down the stallion.

Gilbreth proceeded to do as he asked.

“No, that won’t do, Old Man,” Ursuline argued. “You have to leave tonight or they will find you. I know people in Osiriya who can help… Merchants by the name of Blaine and Elsa Hower, the same people who helped Merian leave Drachium.”

“Oh, I couldn’t dare burden you with this—“

“You’d rather burden me with worry that something has happened to you?”

Gilbreth pursed his lips.

“I’ll make contact with them… I assure you, this plan will work.”

Ursuline had met the Hower's again a few years after they assisted him with Merian's escape, when they happened to be in Croyso and had provided Riftan’s attire for his wedding. They instantly recognized him and were surprised to learn who he was. Even then, they offered to provide him aid if he ever needed it again.

He hated the idea of having to send Gilbreth away, but there was no denying that doing so would have two positive outcomes. He could finally break off his engagement to Isobel Paran… They could be free of each other without him risking Gilbreth’s life anymore.

He would, in essence, be saving two people from Razvan and Trevor Ricaydo.

”Wait for me here while I gather everything you’ll need. You’ll be taking one of my horses.” 

“Young Master—“

“Don’t refuse. I need you to stay alive, Gilbreth,” Ursuline sighed. "Could you do that for me?"

"..."

“You helped me all those years… Please, just this once, allow me to help you.”

After a moment of silence, Gilbreth spoke, his voice almost cracking. “I just wish I had more time to hear about all your adventures for the last three years…”

Ursuline smiled bitterly and pulled the stack of letters from his coat. “Well, too bad, Old Man.” He tossed it on the hay, next to Gilbreth. ”I guess you’re just going to have to read all about them instead.” 

Slowly, Gilbreth took the stack and stared at them. "Looks like you can't follow your own rules either..." Then, he held them to his chest as if they were his most treasured possession.

“I wrote to you every chance I could… Even though I knew I couldn’t send them,” Ursuline muttered. “Somehow, it made things easier for me.”

“I’ll cherish these for as long as I live, Master Ursuline.”

“Oh, don’t get sentimental on me, Old Man,” Ursuline replied, trying to sound detached. “You may not be so appreciative of my letters once you see how small I had to write. I had to conserve parchment and ink…”

Gilbreth chuckled. 

“Now, wait here… I’ll be back in a moment and you can be on your way.”

Chapter Text

Ursuline stared at the piece of parchment in his hand then set it down on his desk. With a weary sigh, he kneaded his temple with his finger. The movement made his jaw suddenly throb, making him wince, which irritated the cut on his lip.

“Dammit.” 

He scoffed, his thoughts flitting back to what had happened in the barracks just hours ago. 

Nirtha belittling him before passing off having to deal with that stammering fool was what set him off, and when she showed just how pig-headed she really was, Ursuline couldn’t bite his tongue. 

Riftan’s actions were justifiable. He had no right to speak to or about the lady of the house that way, but Ursuline couldn’t feel remorse. It had to be said. All of it. And once again, he was the only man bold enough to speak. 

Ursuline closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Now was not the time for him to dwell on his falling-out with Riftan. The parchment on his desk spelled out a more disconcerting situation. 

He picked it up and read the last few lines again.

… I regret to inform you that in spite of tremendous effort, I was unable to locate the item you specified. I have gone as far as reaching out to my associates all over Osiriya for assistance, but to no avail. I fear that what you seek must be considered lost. There is nothing more that I can do. 

The message he had received from Blaine Hower was disguised as a final update regarding a rare sword that Ursuline had asked him to procure months ago. To unsuspecting eyes, their correspondence was nothing more than a fallen-through transaction between a wealthy, hard-to-please and stubborn buyer, and an honest merchant who did all he could to accommodate his distinguished client. 

Ursuline had to read the message several times before its meaning finally sunk in. It was a confirmation of what he had been dreading for the last several weeks— that Gilbreth never made it to Balbourne after he helped him escape from Drachium.

Ursuline’s fist clenched as guilt began to gnaw at him. 

He should’ve thought things through and planned his escape better; considered all the ways things could go wrong. He was careless, complacent. 

Trevor’s past threat on Gilbreth’s life echoed clearly in his mind. 

“… If you do anything reckless, he dies.”

Ursuline picked up the inkwell on his desk and threw it at the wall, splattering black liquid everywhere. 

He had failed. Gilbreth was probably dead, and it was all his fault. 

He wanted freedom from the Parans, but never at the cost of Gilbreth’s life. If he could, he’d marry Isobel right there and then... if it meant turning back time to spare him. 

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, pulling Ursuline from his thoughts. 

“Come in.”

Gabel entered the room, his brow arching at the sight of the scowling man seated at the desk.

“Have you been pouting in here this entire time?” he asked. Then, he saw the ink stains on the wall and floor. “Heavens! Did you have to make a mess in here too? Enough—”

“State your actual business or fuck off, Lachzion,” he hissed. “Spare me the lecture.”

Gabel scoffed and shook his head. “You know, you truly are lucky...”

“What are you talking about?”

“In spite of being so utterly crass and insufferable, there’s one person in this world who doesn’t seem to think that of you.” Then, he tossed something to Ursuline. 

He swiftly caught it with one hand. His eyes widened. “A letter… H-How did you get this?” he asked anxiously as he quickly peeled off the wax seal on the familiar parchment. Then, he tore it open to find the usual hidden string. 

“I seriously considered burning it just to spite you, but I couldn’t do that to good old Gilbreth…” 

Ursuline looked at him, annoyed. Then, he began to read the letter.

“My squire said that an old man requested that he deliver the letter to me.”

“When?” Ursuline asked without looking up.

“When I sent him north with Sir Evan Crude and his men.”

Ursuline stood up. “But they had been back for nearly three days!”

“Yes, I am aware of that, Ursuline.” Gabel answered with a frown. “But the letter wasn’t brought to my attention until today.”

He took a deep breath as if he were trying to maintain his patience. “Call your squire… this instant. I must speak with him—“

“No need. I already did.”

“...”

“The old man who approached him fits the same description as Gilbreth. He refused to disclose any information about his identity, but stated that I would know exactly what the letter is for.”

Ursuline’s nostrils flared. “Call him anyway.”

“You got your letter. If the old man wanted to see you, he would’ve said so, or he would’ve come here directly.”

“Call your squire in here right now, Lachzion! That’s an order!”

“No.”

“How dare you!”

“You will not subject my squire to your unnecessary questioning or fault him for his late delivery. He has nothing to do with your personal business with the old man.” 

“…”

“I am the one who agreed to be your messenger to return a debt which, by the way, has long been paid… This time, I did you a favor.”

Ursuline scoffed.

“So don’t you dare use your rank on me, Sir Ricaydo .”

“Fine.” 

“And where are your manners?…”

“Thank you for the favor, then, Sir Lachzion ,” he sneered with sarcasm. “Is there anything else you wish to reprimand me on?” 

“Actually, yes, there is.”

Ursuline narrowed his eyes.

“You’re supposed to be the most disciplined and proper among all of us, considering your background. Yet, your behavior has been most appalling.” Gabel sighed. “However, observing you just now, I can see that there’s more troubling you besides our Commander."

He clicked his tongue.

"You have always been able to separate your personal affairs from your duties. Whatever it is, you must compose yourself, Ursuline.” 

“...”

“And for goodness sake... If Riftan is content, then let him be. It’s his life, not yours.”

With that, Gabel exited the room.

Ursuline pursed his lips. He shook his head, irritated that he had just been scolded like a child. Then, he returned his attention to the letter in his hand.

Gilbreth’s message was short and uncharacteristically abrupt.

Did not reach Balbourne. I am safe. For your sake and mine, please do not look for me. I am sorry.

Gilbreth…  What happened, Old Man?

Time passed and although Ursuline had intended to disregard Gilbreth’s request to not search for him, the escalating war with the monsters in Livadon kept him and his fellow high-ranking knights preoccupied. He was pleased that he and Riftan were speaking, but any other interaction beyond what was expected between a knight and his Commander felt tense and awkward. At that point, Ursuline felt that it was best to avoid being around him and his wife unless it was absolutely necessary. 

To his surprise, Riftan came to see him in his quarters the day before he was to leave for Livadon to lead the first dispatch of knights to battle.

“Commander,” he greeted, clearing his throat. “What can I do for you?” Ursuline looked up briefly before continuing to pack his knapsack. 

“You did that on purpose.”

“Did what?” he asked, attempting to sound detached.

“Getting us all to agree on sending you to Livadon first.”

Ursuline stopped folding the tunic in his hand. 

It was true, he had manipulated the order’s decision on who would Command the first group of reinforcements ordered from Anatol. 

For weeks, he had known that Lady Calypse had been fraught with worry over her husband having to leave for another war, so Ursuline subtly steered the selection in his favor to help all parties. Lady Calypse would be appeased, Riftan wouldn’t have to feel guilty about passing his duty to a subordinate, and maybe Ursuline would have a chance to clear his head by doing what he did best— fighting. 

“Nothing gets past you,” he said with a dry chuckle. 

Riftan stared at him as he continued folding the tunic.

“Look, if you wanted an apology-"

Riftan snorted. “Unbelievable…” 

“This is as close as you’ll get to one... And it’s not like I ever expected a ‘sorry’ from you either.”

“…”

“So... this is my way of moving on from it all.”

Riftan tilted his head, looking somewhat amused. “Fair enough.”

A long silence followed. 

“Try not to die up there,” Riftan finally said nonchalantly before leaving the room. “You’ll be a bigger pain in my ass if I have to be bothered with bringing your corpse back home .”

Ursuline watched him silently as he departed, then, a faint smile appeared on his face. He and his friend had reached an understanding, albeit a vague one, but for Ursuline, that was enough. 

“What’s the first thing you’ll do if we ever make it out of this castle?…” 

“ If?… I hope you meant when. Help is coming… Any day now.”

The young Remdragon Knight smiled sheepishly. “Yes, of course. That’s exactly what I meant, Sir Elliot.”

“Find a comfortable bed, drag it to a deep cave where no one will find me… Finally get some real sleep,” Ruth answered with a yawn.  

Elliot chuckled. “That doesn’t sound half bad after being stuck here in Louivell for nearly two months. However, I think I’d be more inclined to enjoy a decent meal.”

Some of the men murmured in agreement. 

“What about you, Sir?...”  the young knight turned to Ursuline.

“A bath,” several knights answered for him all at once, then laughter followed. 

“I’ve got to say, Cousin, I am thoroughly impressed,” Caleb Hurst chortled lightly as he sat on the floor next to Ursuline. “How do you manage to keep yourself so clean? Do you lick yourself like a cat?”

“Idiot.”

“Well, how do you do it?”

“With a little bit of water, a bar of soap, and a comb,” Ursuline answered plainly. “Just because we’re trapped in here like animals, it doesn’t mean I have to look and smell like one.”

“Hmm… Father once told me that Uncle Razvan and Cousin Trevor were the same way… They always looked so dapper and clean, even during a war.”

Ursuline groaned upon hearing about their shared habits. He never liked being compared to his brother or father, but he had just been provided an opportunity to subtly inquire if they had anything to do with Gilbreth’s disappearance; a thought that still plagued Ursuline each time he wasn’t swinging a sword.

“So, how fares my dear brother and beloved father?” he asked sarcastically. “Anything interesting happening at the Ricaydo estate?...”

“I haven’t seen Uncle Razvan or Cousin Trevor since I left Drachium shortly after the victory celebrations concluded. I was dispatched to Osiriya, then I was sent here,” he hummed. “And don’t bother asking me about Gilbreth either. After you were knighted, I ran into him once at the marketplace and it was I who asked him to me extend my greetings to you... I don’t even recall when.”

“Huh.”

“Don’t ask me about anyone you knew in Drachium… I know nothing.”

“Useless, as usual.”

“You rude bastard…”

Ursuline shrugged his shoulders. 

“Oh, wait!” Caleb’s face suddenly perked up. “I do know something!”

Ursuline raised an eyebrow.

“While we passed through the border from Osiriya, I saw Lady Isobel Paran… at an orphanage.”

Ursuline looked at him incredulously. “Bollocks.”

“I, too, wondered… What was Marquis Paran’s precious daughter doing tending to orphans in Livadon?... But I swear, Cousin, it was her. The face, the hair color, her figure... You can’t mistake that kind of beauty–” He stopped speaking when he noticed that Ursuline’s expression had become stern. “You’re right. I was probably mistaken,” he muttered awkwardly. “Isobel Paran working in an orphanage?… Ridiculous.”

”Who gives a damn?” Ursuline responded indifferently. 

“Well, you should.”

“Her travel adventures are none of my concern.”

“Oh, so you do know that she frequently leaves Drachium in order to avoid gossip over your engagement.”

“...”

“Can you blame her?... I suppose being in an orphanage in Livadon is better than being criticized and slandered at court especially after you snubbed her again when you returned from the Dragon Campaign…" Caleb jabbered on. "How humiliating for that poor woman! You return as a hero of the people, only to abandon your fiance again—” He bit his lip when he noticed that Ursuline’s frown had deepened. “I’m sorry, but you probably broke her heart. Think about it–”

“Broke her heart, you say?…” Ursuline grumbled. “Well, she’s got that pathetic coward, Lew Cayden, escorting her everywhere so he’s probably mending it as we speak. His absence is evidence that he avoided being sent to war again... And if that’s the kind of company she prefers to keep, then good for her.”

“Oh, he’s dead.”

Ursuline was so engrossed in his rant that Caleb's words didn’t register. “I saw Isobel Paran alone in the garden at Drachium Palace with that shameless fuck. She was absolutely unfazed when I caught them red-handed, and he tried to rub it in my face by smiling at me—“ He blinked. “Wait, did you say he was dead?”

“You saw them alone together?… Oh, that fuck deserves it, then. You are right… Utterly shameless.” Caleb’s voice trailed off.

“Caleb… When did it happen?”

“I’m not certain when, but it wasn’t long after the victory celebration at the palace. It had been ruled an accident… Supposedly, Cayden had gone hunting by himself outside the capital, near the Osiriyan border and died from a head injury. A group of Royal Knights found his horse and his body in the woods.” He leaned in and whispered. “The details are muddled, but it’s obvious that the Royal Army is hiding something… ”

“…”

“Rumor has it that he wasn’t actually hunting, that he had done something foul and was murdered for it. They even said that magic was involved.”

“Magic?”

“There were traces of fire and wind spells not too far from the area where he was found… Most likely, the real suspect is a seasoned mage.”

“…”

“My information is limited, but I assure you, my source is reliable.”

Ursuline’s head cocked back at the revelation. “But who would want to kill Lew Cayden?”

Caleb grinned. “Anyone who ever knew him, I suppose… He was a hateful little cunt.” He watched as Ursuline stared at the fire before them, his thoughts drifting. “Oi. Are you alright?”

Cayden dead. The Osiriyan border. Murder. Magic. Seasoned mage.

He recalled Gilbreth’s message.

‘Did not reach Balbourne. I am safe. For your sake and mine, please do not look for me. I’m sorry.’

The elements involved made sense and the time frames of Gilbreth’s disappearance and Cayden’s supposed murder could overlap. 

But it’s got to be pure coincidence… Why would Gilbreth kill Lew Cayden?

“Cousin, are you alright?”

Ursuline shook his head. “I’m fine.”

“I didn’t realize you’d be so bothered by Lew Cayden’s death, considering that he was an exceptional prick towards you.” 

“I’m not.”

“Well, you sure seem to be,” he teased. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Keep talking nonsense and I’ll make sure you join him.”

Caleb chuckled. “Alright… Calm down. You know I jest.”

Chapter Text

Ursuline led the way through Princess Agnes’ residence where she had invited Lady Calypse again to chat. It was a way to help her adjust during her stay in the capital and to keep her preoccupied as she continued to recover from her injuries. 

“How are you feeling this afternoon, Milady?” Elliot asked, trying to sound as casual as possible as he followed behind them while Ursuline subtly turned his head to observe her reaction. As expected, she slightly slumped her shoulders and lowered her head. 

“I a-a-am feeling m-much better. Th-thank you, S-sir E-Elliot,” was her feeble reply. 

“Then, perhaps you’d be interested in taking a stroll in one of the gardens later for some fresh air? Sir Ursuline and I could take you,” he suggested cheerfully.

“That’s ve-very k-kind, but I w-wouldn’t want t-to tr-trouble either of-of y-you.”

“It would be no trouble at all, Milady.” Ursuline added, careful not to sound unusually accommodating to someone he wouldn’t even say a word to not long ago. “Her Grace has secured one of the gardens just for you. We’ll be able to afford you more space and privacy there.”

“Pretend we’re not even around, Milady,” Elliot smiled.

Maximilian returned the gesture to be polite, but both men knew that she had no intention of taking them up on their offer. Most likely, she would just attend the required gatherings at the palace, then confine herself to her chambers again.

Since leaving Ethlene Castle, Lady Calypse had been as timid as she was when she first arrived in Anatol over a year ago. She also never seemed to utter more than ten words unless she was in the company of Princess Agnes. Perhaps it was because her stutter had gotten much worse since the incident, and it didn’t help that Ursuline had been specifically assigned to guard her so closely. She still felt uncomfortable around him– that was obvious. He had expected it, given their history, but at least, Elliot was there. Her Ladyship seemed to trust him and that made their job a little easier. 

Ursuline let out a quiet sigh and turned his head forward.

“Keep her safe. She is not to know about the child.”

Riftan’s instructions were brief when he ordered Ursuline and Elliot to take Lady Calypse to Drachium, given in his usual calm and impassive manner. How was it possible that he was the same man who needed to be subdued by ten knights after learning what had happened to her when Ethlene was infiltrated by the monsters? The same man who was growling and wailing like a beast at the sight of his wounded and bleeding wife.

In all their years together, Ursuline had never seen Riftan react like that and up till now, it made him wonder… What could reduce someone like him to such a state? To crumble and lose control, caught in a tempest of fury, desperation, and fear.

He scoffed quietly.

Love?…

He looked over his shoulder once more and Lady Calypse quickly avoided his gaze. 

Riftan had fallen victim to that foolish notion because of her. He never understood why or how, but he knew well what came of it… Irrationality and pain. Love wasn’t just foolish. It was dangerous. 

Ursuline faced forward again and took a deep breath. He always thought he was fortunate to have never known or felt it. Now, he was sure that he never would.

A moment later, they finally reached their destination and a palace guard opened the door to let them in. Ursuline entered first. “Your Grace,” he greeted with a bow before stepping aside to let Lady Calypse present herself.

Agnes nodded to her in acknowledgement. “Maximillian, thank you for joining me” she said, gesturing for her to come forward. “Please make yourself comfortable.”

Maximilian looked over at Elliot. She was still apprehensive about being left alone with the Princess so he gave her a thin, but reassuring smile. “We’ll be right outside should you need us, Milady,” he said to her gently. “We won’t go anywhere, I promise.” Only then did she move her feet.

The two knights bowed and exited the study, then positioned themselves opposite the guards in front of the door. It would be a while before Lady Calypse is released from her meeting with the Princess. 

Ursuline clicked his tongue. Elliot may not mind standing around idly, but he hated mundane tasks. 

His fellow knight looked at him with reprimand, knowing exactly what he was thinking. 

“What?” he hissed.

Elliot shook his head, but didn’t answer.

Although it, indeed, felt like a waste of time, Ursuline still understood that it was important that they do as Riftan asked. 

A few days later, they sent word to Riftan as soon as they learned that Duke Croyso was coming to see Maximillian. Unfortunately, time was against them. When he arrived, there was nothing Elliot or Ursuline could do to stop, or at least, stall the Duke from leaving Drachium with Lady Calypse. Their only option was to ride ahead and meet Riftan in Croyso. 

How could she do this to him again?...

Why did he expect a different answer when he had asked her if she wanted to return to Croyso? Why did he think that she would actually choose Riftan over that hateful, arrogant bastard, this time around? 

Ursuline berated himself. 

To think that I actually felt sorry for her for being sent away to Drachium… For her being injured… For losing their child and being kept in the dark about it. I was right… She will always be her father’s daughter. 

As soon as Ursuline saw Riftan, he steeled himself for his wrath, but instead, the man urged Talon past him silently, not even sparing him a glance. Surprised, Ursuline goaded him.

“Ignoring me?... That’s new.”

Still, Riftan said nothing.

“She chose to return here,” he sneered from behind. “Elliot, the Princess, and I were all powerless to stop them.”

“...”

“You were the only man who could have stood between her and the Duke.”

Talon’s reins were pulled to a halt and Riftan slowly turned the horse around. “So this is entirely my fault?” he asked icily.  

He pursed his lips at his rhetorical jab. “Your presence would have made a difference,” was Ursuline’s reply. He swallowed hard. Any moment now, Riftan would dismount and stride toward him to grab him by the collar. But instead, the Commander’s eyes remained impassive.

The knights watched them in silence until Riftan spoke again. “I’ve sent half of the men back to Anatol. You should leave as well.”

“What did you say?...”

“Go home, Sir Ricaydo.”

Ursuline had expected him to spit fire; to curse at him and punch him in the face, just like he did back in Anatol after he insulted Maximillian in front of everyone. In fact, after playing different scenarios of their confrontation in his head on the way to Croyso, he thought he was ready for anything. 

Riftan’s eerie calmness and dismissal of him stung like a knife to his chest.

Ursuline let out an empty chuckle, pretending that he wasn’t bothered by their exchange, or lack thereof. “With all due respect, Commander... I intend to stay,” he responded with equal calmness. 

Riftan rode on towards the gates of Croyso Castle with a few knights in tow. “Suit yourself.” 

Ursuline stood frozen in place. Had Riftan really lost confidence in him? Did he deem Ursuline so useless at this point that he couldn’t even be angry with him? 

“Fuck…” he grumbled under his breath. A beating would have felt better than this.

Days passed. Duke Croyso would not allow Riftan to see his wife, but he had no intention of leaving and had ordered the knights to set up camp nearby. The entire time, Ursuline had kept his distance and mulled over everything that had transpired since the fall of Ethlene Castle. 

As he tended to his horse, Seigal, he watched Riftan who was leaning by a tree as he looked on at the castle. 

The practical thing to do would have been to go to Drachium and persuade the King to side with him. Then, he could order the Duke to release Riftan’s wife.

Or perhaps… He could just let it all go. Get divorced. Marry the Princess.

Ursuline shook his head. 

No. Riftan was a persistent man. Obstinate. There was no changing his mind and the level of stubbornness he had shown by his refusal to leave was proof of just how devoted he was to Maximillian. 

A look of pain and longing had finally cracked his stoic facade, and Ursuline almost cringed at the sight until something hit him— Lady Calypse held the same expression, from the moment they left Ethlene until she departed from Drachium, each time she thought no one was watching.

She wouldn’t refuse to see a man she suffocatingly yearned for… 

Something wasn’t right. 

Although Ursuline couldn't trust Maximillian, her sadness in Drachium was genuine. 

That old bastard did something… I can feel it in my bones. 

Slowly, he approached Riftan.He had been looking for an opportunity to make amends, and maybe, now was the appropriate time. Sensing his presence, Riftan straightened his posture. “What do you want?” he asked dryly. 

“I wanted to acknowledge that I failed to carry out your orders in Drachium,” Ursuline sighed uneasily. “I take full responsibility for this.”

“...”

“I’m sorry.”

Riftan turned away without a reply, making him feel slightly embarrassed. 

“Look,” Ursuline continued. “I’ve always had reservations when it came to Lady Calypse—“

“I don’t want to hear it, Ricaydo,” Riftan huffed. “You apologize, yet you just continue with your bullshit.”

“Dammit, Riftan—“

“Get out of here. I don’t need you to stay for this.”

Ursuline ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Will you just hear me out?” 

Riftan frowned with a scoff.

“Believe me when I say that I always had the best intentions for the order… For you.”

“Damn…” he chuckled sardonically.

“The point is, I want to make it right,” he continued. “Duke Croyso has no real authority to keep Lady Calypse from you. Whatever you decide, I’m with you… I won’t fail you this time.”

“…”

“Do you trust me?”

The Commander looked at him. 

“I need to know if you still do.”

Riftan sighed.. “I had you and Elliot take my wife to Drachium… Why do you think I chose you two?...”

Ursuline pursed his lips. “Because Ruth was still needed in Ethlene and Lady Calypse felt most at ease with Elliot out of all of us knights… And with Nirtha’s injury—“

“I chose you because you were the man for the job.”

"…”

“I knew you’d take my request seriously… No matter how much it would bore you, no matter what distractions may arise. Even with all of your stupid opinions about her and your shitty personality, I trusted you.”

“...”

“And the fact that you’re still here even though I pretty much told you to fuck-off, means that I still can.” Riftan turned his head forward again. “I was angry, but your actions in Drachium were reasonable. You’re right… I should’ve been there so that old bastard couldn’t take her.”

Another moment of silence followed, then Ursuline spoke. “The Duke said that Lady Calypse is refusing to see you?”

Riftan snorted. 

“That makes no sense…”

“Sure it does.”

He shook his head resolutely. “I witnessed her melancholy with my own eyes… I don’t buy it.”

“...”

“She needed you… She still does,” he insisted. 

“No. I sent her away–”

“She risked her life to follow you in Livadon, Riftan!”

“…”

“Open your eyes, dammit! That woman is more bull-headed than you! You think she would’ve given up, just like that?” Ursuline calmed himself when he noticed some knights looking their way. “Something must've happened with the Duke for her to agree to leave Drachium without you—“

“After everything she went through,” Riftan cut him off, rubbing his face. “She wasn’t safe with me… She never was.”

“Stop,” Ursuline clicked his tongue. 

I can’t believe I’m about to say this…

“The safest place for her is right by your side.”

“…”

“Her husband’s.”

Riftan moved his gaze to the ground. 

“We must get her out of there,” he added, pointing his chin at Croyso Castle.

“I’m still working on that.”

“Sir Riftan?” Ruth suddenly appeared behind them.

“What now?” he growled brusquely at his intrusion.

“Lady Rosetta Croyso is here. She’s asking to see you.”

Ursuline and Riftan looked at each other, their calm faces hiding their shock. 

“She says that she is willing to… assist… with retrieving Lady Calypse, provided  that you agree to her terms... Time is of the essence. Please come with me.”

Riftan quickly followed Ruth without objection. 

Most of the Remdragon Knights had spread out all over Zeno to keep watch, while the few that Riftan had selected diligently guarded the main entrance of the inn where he was tending to Maxi. 

Ursuline sat in a chair silently as he watched their surroundings. The bizarre and disturbing scene he had witnessed just moments ago was still replaying in his mind– Lady Calypse curled up on the floor with her back exposed and bloodied while her father relentlessly lashed it like a madman.

He kneaded his face in his palms as remorse filled him. 

That evil bastard…  

"How is she?” Elliot asked Ruth with genuine worry when he exited the building. 

He sat down next to Ursuline. “Her physical wounds, she will recover from eventually,” he replied in a tired voice. “But who knows what’s going through her head… The unseen damage it’s caused. I could be wrong, but I don’t think the beating was a one-time incident.”

“There was no way we could’ve known… We all assumed that she was well taken care of,” Elliot muttered as he ruffled his hair in frustration.

“I wish she would have told Sir Riftan…” Ruth added. ”He never would’ve let her out of his sight… Dammit, she could’ve told me, and I would’ve advised her to—”

“Such things are never easily discussed,” Ursuline cut in. “No one likes to show their wounds, their weaknesses… Even to people they trust.”

He stood up and walked down the steps of the inn. “I’ll be back in a while.”

“Where are you going?” Elliot asked.

“On patrol…”

“By yourself?”

“I need to think,” he replied tersely. “That bastard deserved far worse than what Riftan did to him, but we will have to face his fury once we return to Anatol…”

“Shit,” Elliot grumbled. 

Ursuline wandered through Zeno, only stopping when he felt tired. He slumped against a barrel of water and sat on the ground. 

He had spent four years hating Lady Calypse… all for the wrong reasons. His fists clenched as he recalled her pitiful appearance, the look of terror and shame in her eyes.

It may have only been a hunch, but Ruth was absolutely right. It wasn’t the first time that the Duke had beaten Lady Calypse. Being accustomed to his own brother’s temper, he just knew. He also understood why she didn’t tell anyone about it. Ursuline, too, chose not to disclose his own abuse, barely even acknowledging it with Gilbreth and Caleb who had witnessed the beatings themselves. It was just too shameful and humiliating. 

He stood up and resumed his walk. Then, he heard voices from a distance. Standing on an open porch was a woman who was looking up at the sky as she warmed herself by a fire, the light illuminating her face.

Suddenly, his mind went blank. Before him was Isobel Paran.

She looked in Ursuline’s direction, prompting him to quickly hide behind a wall. Then he waited for a moment before peering through a space between the wood to observe her.

What are you doing in Zeno?...

“Miss Julia?” he heard a man say. “Are you alright?”

Julia??...

“Oh,” she answered with a shake of her head. “Yes, Alpher… It’s just that I thought I saw someone I knew.” She chuckled softly. “It’s late. I think my eyes are playing tricks on me.”

“You’d better get some rest then, Miss.”

“I will after I dine with Daniel.” 

“He’s waiting for you.”

"Very well... Have a good evening, Alpher.” Then, she went inside the house.

Ursuline frowned. 

Who is Daniel??… 

With her gone, he still kept his eyes fixed on the building. 

Had Isobel Paran found a new lover since Lew Cayden had died? Was she gallivanting all over Wedon with a man named Daniel and pretending to be a commoner to keep their identities a secret? Perhaps this was the reason why his brother, father, or the Parans hadn’t pestered him for the past year about getting married, and why Trevor hadn’t bothered with or accused him of Gilbreth’s disappearance. 

How many men have you been with behind my back, Isobel Paran?…

Ursuline’s jaw tensed. Why did he even care? This was exactly what he wanted… For her to forget him, then he wouldn’t have to marry her. It shouldn’t matter that she was with other men while he was fighting for his life… Fighting for the rest of Wedon which included her.

Suddenly, another man appeared and began speaking to Alpher. 

“Oi! It’s practically bedtime! Why are you making deliveries so late?” Alpher asked him.

“My mistress insisted that I get the package to a Miss Julia Adler tonight.”

“Ah, fine… Hand it here and I’ll give it to her or Sir Daniel.”

Julia Adler.

Ursuline shook his head and began walking back to the inn. He didn’t want to hear anymore. He had experienced enough shock for one day.

(Back to present day— continuation from Chapter 1)

That was the last time Ursuline had seen her. It was in Zeno almost four years ago. So much had happened since that he had forgotten all about it until now. 

His eyes moved back and forth as he stared blankly at the tray of food before him. Her unexpected visit had awakened a slew of memories and now, he was truly curious as to why she had come to see him. 

Ursuline stood up and made his way to the entrance of his chambers. He opened the door and saw his subordinate, Sir Aramis Kent, standing guard with three other knights. 

“Good morrow, Sir Ursuline,” he greeted. 

He only nodded in reply.

“Do you have an errand for me, Sir?” The knight asked eagerly. 

"I do. Come inside and I shall tell you.”

Aramis did as he asked and shut the door behind him.

“Lady Isobel Paran… The woman who was here this morning. Find out where she is.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Actually, find out everything you can about her. Be discreet and report only to me.” 

The knight bowed and was about to leave the room until Ursuline spoke again. 

“She might be going under the alias, Julia Adler.”

Then, he recalled something that Caleb had mentioned long ago. 

“Include orphanages and poor houses in your search. You might be able to obtain information about her there.” 

Chapter Text

Ursuline adjusted his collar and his coat before taking one last look in the mirror. Then, he left his chambers. He had recently dismissed the knights guarding his door now that he was feeling well enough to resume his usual duties as third-in-command, but today, he intended to go to the Roemian Palace training grounds to ask Riftan’s permission to attend to some personal matters. 

He recalled his conversation with Sir Aramis Kent the other day. 

“I think I have the information you need, Sir Ursuline.’

‘Go on.”

‘I made inquiries through the temple knights that I befriended during the last mission and as it turns out, Lady Isobel Paran is a rather prominent figure in charity work here in Balbourne. You’ll find her at an encampment just outside of the city for the next week or two… Apparently, she has agreed to help oversee how to help the displaced families of the deceased soldiers of Osiriya.’

‘What?’ Ursuline’s brows furrowed. 

"I was surprised to hear that such endeavors even existed, Sir… Perhaps because our order has always been fortunate to suffer minimal casualties and Sir Riftan has always compensated the families well–’ 

‘Where has she been staying prior?’ he asked, cutting Aramis off.

‘With one of the noble families of Balbourne…  Count and Countess Royce Leon. She is said to be a frequent guest due to the nature of her work.’

‘Leon?...’

‘Sir Kuahel Leon’s parents… The leader of the Temple Knights.’

‘Hmmm,’ Ursuline responded plainly. ‘Is anyone with her?’ he continued before clearing his throat. “A lady’s maid, attendants, relatives… or personal companions?”

‘She is here alone. However, the Lady is always escorted by Temple Knights when travelling around, or to and from Osiriya.’

As Ursuline approached the training grounds, he could hear the familiar sounds of metal clashing against metal and the faint smell of dirt in the air. He lifted his right arm slightly to test its strength and he instantly felt the sting and soreness of his recent injury. He sighed with disappointment. He wanted to pick up a sword and spar with his brother knights, but alas, he had no choice but to be patient until he was well recovered, and hoped that Ruth and Lady Calypse were successful in treating the damage to his arm.

“Oi! Look who’s finally decided to leave his chambers,” a low voice announced from the arena. “Well, you are looking rather exceptional for someone who had the shit beaten out of him not too long ago, Ricaydo.”

The other knights welcomed and greeted Ursuline as well, assuring him of his full recovery and asserting that the savage and honorless Richard Breston got what he deserved. Ursuline gave them all a polite smile. The knights knew better than to offer him their pity and their words seemed sincere; however, it didn’t change the fact that he still lost the match and the manner in which he did was humiliating. 

“Thank you, gentlemen. It’s good to be back,” he replied, fully aware that his arm may heal long before his pride.

He moved his eyes to Hebaron who was standing with a hand on his hip as he rested the tip of his claymore in the ground. 

“Might I have a word with you in private?” Ursuline asked him sharply.

“Gah,” Hebaron groaned. “Is this about Lady Paran?”

“Quiet,” he hissed. 

“I haven’t said anything to anyone, if that’s what you’re concerned about, and Aramis and the others who saw her wouldn’t–”

Ursuline glared at him and Hebaron rolled his eyes in resignation. “Fine… Let’s talk.”

“Charon!” He bellowed. “Take over for me! Ricaydo’s got his knickers in a twist and I must help him unravel it this instant!”

Some of the knights laughed while the others whistled. Elliot nodded and called attention to all them. Hebaron then followed Ursuline to an empty area. 

“I saw her leave not long after I escorted her to your chambers–”

“How dare you meddle in my personal affairs!” Ursuline growled. “You had absolutely no right to send me visitors, especially in my state!”

“Oh, calm yourself…”

“I thought she was just another noble who had snuck into my room!”

“Hah! You damn fool…” Hebaron laughed. “Did you accuse her of trying to sleep with you and embarrass yourself?”

“It is no laughing matter,” Ursuline scolded him. “You couldn’t have picked a worse time to–”

“And when would have been a good time for your fiance to visit?” 

He narrowed his eyes at him. 

“She has a right to see you. Haven’t you two been engaged for well over a decade?...”

“...”

“People do talk whenever we visit Drachium… It’s hard to ignore when I even hear about it in the bedroom.”

Ursuline frowned. “So you enjoy meaningless trysts and gossip , Nirtha?” he sneered. 

“The former much more than the latter,” he retorted sardonically. “I don’t give a damn about most things that people say about you.”

“...”

“I already know that you’re an asshole. I know that more than anybody,” he added with a smile. 

“You burly bastard.”

Then, he patted Ursuline’s uninjured arm, “But I know you to be an honorable asshole… So the gossipmongers can kick dirt.”

“Ah, how kind of you, Nirtha,” Ursuline replied sarcastically.

“Look, Ricaydo…” Hebaron sighed in a serious tone. “I know it’s none of my business, but Lady Paran looked absolutely worried when I saw her pacing outside the infirmary when you were brought in after your match with Breston… That’s why I took her to see you.”

Ursuline’s lips twisted. “She was outside the infirmary?” He ruffled his hair with one hand in frustration and embarrassment, “So she saw the whole damn thing!… Breston, beating my helmet like a fucking drum–”

“She seemed genuinely concerned… Her eyes were red like she had been crying.”

Ursuline looked up, puzzled. “Crying?”

“Yep.”

He brushed off the information like it was nothing. “Lots of women shed tears after witnessing ghastly and violent things. I’m surprised she didn’t faint.“

“I recognized her from your knighting ceremony and the previous victory celebration, so I approached her and introduced myself, then we got to talking. She tried to give me vague answers, but it was enough to help me figure out that she was the fiancee that you never speak of.”

“Oh, good grief…” Ursuline grumbled as he rested his hands on his hips.

“She was so nice and lovely that next thing I knew, I was volunteering to arrange a private audience with you.”

Ursuline’s nostrils flared. “ Private audience… Well, you certainly gave me an audience during my moment of privacy!   She almost saw me naked, thanks to you!”

Hebaron’s eyes widened. “Is that why she left?” he asked sarcastically with a chuckle.

“Damn you, Nirtha.”

“Oh, shut up, you surly twat,” he spat back. “You know… I was hoping that your head injury might’ve shook your brains enough to, at least, make you nicer, but clearly, your skull is too narrow and thick… Please tell me that you didn’t drive that sweet, beautiful woman away with that mouth of yours.”

“Where’s the Commander?” he asked, ignoring his comment.

“Ah, of course you did…” Hebaron clicked his tongue. 

“Where is he?!”

“He’s gone on an outing with Lady Calypse and left me in charge. Why?”

“Then, I’m leaving the palace grounds for a while…” Ursuline turned to walk away. “There’s something I need to do.” 

“Off to find Lady Paran?...”

“Mind your own business this time, you nosy oaf,” he replied sternly without looking back. 

“Oh my!” Hebaron almost squealed with excitement. “Is Ursuline Ricaydo actually going off to chase after a woman?…”

“Piss off…”

“Is it snowing in Lakashim?! Has the sun risen west?!... What kind of miracle or omen is this?!”

Ursuline sat atop Seigal as he watched the encampment from a distance. Temple Knights surrounded the area as security while clerics and workers attended to groups that consisted mainly of women and children. Some were sent off with bags of provisions while a great number were escorted to several large tents that looked to be temporary shelters. Finally, Ursuline urged for the stallion to move and he drove to the entrance. There, he presented the guards with a large pouch of coins. 

“Would it be possible to speak with Lady Isobel Paran? I’m here to give this modest contribution to the cause.”

“A modest contribution, you say?” one of the Temple Knights chuckled dryly. 

“It is, for a camp this large… Perhaps if I speak to Lady Paran, then I’ll be compelled to give more. She knows who I am.”

“Very well… So what name shall I give the Lady?”

Ursuline thought for a moment. “Hebaron Nirtha.”

“Did you come alone, Hebaron Nirtha?…” The knight asked suspiciously.

Aware that he’d been spotted long before he approached the camp, Ursuline gave the knight a wry smile. “I think you already know that I have, Sir.”

The knight sighed with annoyance. “Leave your weapons here. We don’t allow any inside unless you’re a Temple Knight.”

Without dismounting, Ursuline handed another knight his sword, dagger, and a smaller knife that he had tucked in his boot. “That’s all I have,” he informed him.

Finally, the gate opened and Ursuline was escorted inside. When they reached an empty tent, he dismounted Seigal and tied the reins to a post, then he was instructed to wait inside. It took a while before he finally heard soft voices outside of the tent.

“And what shall we do about the orphaned children, Milady?”

“House them separately from the other refugees, but make sure to have enough workers to keep an eye on them. Assign shifts so the children are never left unsupervised. We cannot let them wander around camp even with this level of security…”

“Very well, Lady Paran.”

“And please give them something to eat and some clean clothes.”

The flap of the entrance opened and Isobel entered, looking down as she patted the dust and dirt off her clothes. She was wearing a tunic under a corset, trousers and boots. Her hair, in a ponytail that hung past her shoulders. It was a sight that Ursuline hadn’t expected. 

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, but I was not expecting any visitors today. Especially you, Sir Nir—” her eyes widened as soon as she saw Ursuline standing before her. “What are you doing here?” she asked in surprise.

Ursuline’s mouth went dry and he licked his lips. “I’m sorry to have deceived you and the guards, but I wasn’t sure if you’d see me, given how our last conversation ended…”

She let out an awkward chuckle while Ursuline uneasily ran a hand through his hair. “Or should I say first conversation ?… I believe that was the first time we ever said a word to each other.”

“Fair enough.” Isobel nodded with a cautious smile.

“I wanted to give you this.” He changed the subject and placed the heavy coin pouch on the table. “This is quite an endeavor you’ve undertaken… and I wish to support it.”

Isobel stared at the pouch, once again surprised.

“And I’d like to give more.”

“Thank you for the generous gift,” she replied. “It will definitely help, but how did you know about this encampment?”

Ursuline looked down, slightly embarrassed. ”The truth is… I had one of my men search for you after you left.”

A slight blush graced Isobel’s cheeks. “Oh.”

“I didn’t think it was a good idea to come right away… But I had to see you.”

“Why?…”

“So I could apologize.” Ursuline then cleared his throat. “I didn’t know that Sir Nirtha had made arrangements for you to visit me and the timing was not ideal. Still, my behavior that day was… Inexcusable.” Ursuline lowered his head. “First I accused you of trying to seduce me, then my…. trousers.” He could feel his cheeks heating up. “Then, I told you to stay out of sight.”

When he looked up, Isobel turned her head aside, her blush even more prominent. 

Quickly, she composed herself. “It was all a misunderstanding,” she replied. “I was the one who put you in that awkward situation, so you’re not at fault, really… But thank you. I do appreciate and accept your apology.”

“Good,” Ursuline discreetly sighed with relief.

"Will that be all, Sir Ricaydo?”

He slightly cocked his head back at her formal address. He was her fiancée and had every right to call him by his first name.

"Actually,” he replied. “I was hoping that you and I could talk for a bit?”

Isobel looked at him for a while, then sighed. “I think I can spare a few moments.” With one hand, she gestured for him to sit down and she took the seat across from him.

Ursuline smiled politely. “Thank you.”

“May I offer you some water or something to eat?” she asked. 

“No,” Ursuline waved his hand. “I just… Why did you come to see me?”

Isobel’s eyes widened. 

“I’m sorry, if I’m being too forward, but your time is limited so it’s best that I just be direct.”

Isobel smiled awkwardly again. “I really just wanted to see how you were. Your injuries looked serious.”

Ursuline looked down. “Well, I am much better now.”

“I’m glad.”

An uncomfortable silence followed. 

“I wasn’t able to watch the entire tournament, but was fortunate to be there whenever you were  fighting. You’re quite good, I must say…”

He looked up, a faint smile forming on his lips.

“I don’t know much about swords, but your techniques are precise and you're very quick.”

“Not quick enough, apparently.”

“That man fought dirty. I think everyone knows that. In my humble opinion, you should’ve won that match on merit… You could’ve played dirty too and ended it sooner.”

“Hmm…” He watched Isobel with piqued interest. “So you know about swords?”

She took a deep breath. “I’ve had some lessons.”

“Really?”

“With all the traveling I do, I can’t always rely on others for my safety.”

Ursuline’s brows curled in. 

“One can never be too careful, Sir Ricaydo.”

She said it again… 

“Why do you say that? Have there been incidents?”

Isobel looked away as if she were now avoiding the subject. “A few, but you need not worry about them.”

Ursuline frowned. “If such work presents significant risks to your safety, then I’m afraid I must object to it.”

Isobel also frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

“I cannot have my fiancée putting herself in danger,” he replied resolutely. “I know I haven’t been present in your life, but that will change.”

“What do you mean? You and I are—“

“Had I been privy to his information before today, I would’ve made sure to address it. I don’t like the idea of you having to learn swordsmanship out of necessity.“

Isobel stared at him, her mouth slightly agape. 

Ursuline swallowed hard, unsure of himself. It was as if his mouth had spoken before he could think. After a moment of awkward silence, Isobel finally spoke.

“It seems to me that you are not aware.”

“Aware of what?” 

“Of my agreement with your father after my parents died.”

Ursuline cocked his head back in shock. “Marquis and Marchioness Paran are dead?… When?…”

“Over a year ago,” she said with sadness in her voice. “It was a carriage accident in Wedon.”

How could I have missed that?… Why didn’t Trevor and Razvan inform me?…

Ursuline sighed, “I am so sorry for your loss… I didn’t know.”

“It was old news as soon as rumors spread about a growing monster threat that could threaten life as we all knew it. As wrong as it sounds, it was better that way… It gave me the privacy I needed to mourn them.”

“Were you all alone then?…”

“Not completely.”

Ursuline slowly stood up and walked towards Isobel. Then, he bent down on one knee in front of her and took her hand causing her to flinch slightly, but she didn’t pull away.

“I’m sorry that I haven’t been there… at all,” Ursuline murmured as he placed his other hand over hers. “But if you would allow it, I would like the chance to rectify that…” He looked up at her, unsure of the gravity of his words, but he meant them. He didn’t know what their future would look like… He hadn’t bothered to consider all the possibilities and hurdles. Right now, all he knew was that he was willing to take a step forward and get better acquainted with his betrothed.  

Please say yes. 

Isobel’s hands clasped his and he slightly gasped. 

“Isobel…”

“Ursuline…” she whispered softly and goosebumps formed on his skin. “For years, I wanted to hear those words from you…”

His eyes trembled as relief washed over him. 

“But you and I are no longer betrothed…”

Chapter Text

“What?” Ursuline felt like he had been doused with cold water.

“Our engagement has been dissolved.”

A deafening silence followed. He could no longer hear any of the commotion outside. The sounds of footsteps, conversations, and the clomping of horseshoes and carts had all been replaced with a piercing hum in his ears. Slowly, Isobel loosened her grip and gently moved his hands back towards him before letting go, and her subtle rejection made Ursuline regain control of his senses. 

“I don’t understand,” he murmured as he stood up and Isobel followed suit. 

“I asked to end our betrothal shortly after my parents were buried. Your father and brother agreed so long as I compensated them by paying triple the penalty.”

“They did what?...” he asked in disbelief. 

“They insisted that the matter be kept private, but they were supposed to inform you of the dissolution.”

“I see…” 

“I’m sorry that you had to find out this way. I should’ve just written to you myself like I had intended.”

“No, It’s… quite alright,” Ursuline responded, trying to conceal his embarrassment and brewing anger from being kept in the dark by his family. “Pardon me for acting inappropriately.”

“Please…” Isobel smiled bitterly. “There’s no need to apologize. You didn’t know.”

He backed away and returned to his seat. Isobel also sat back down and an awkward silence lingered as Ursuline felt an uncomfortable lump forming in his throat. “May I ask why you did it?”

“Why did I end our betrothal?”

He nodded.

Isobel looked down. “Do you really need an answer?” she asked uneasily.

“I think I know why, but hearing it from you would certainly help me understand better.”

She moved her eyes to meet his. “I wanted to be fair… to you and to myself.”

“…”

“You never wanted any of it. Eventually, I realized that I wanted freedom as well.” 

“...”

“I got tired… Of running, of being the topic of whispers and scrutiny for years.”

“You got tired of waiting…” he mumbled with his head lowered.

“Yes.”

The singular response stabbed at his conscience.

He looked at her. “I’m sorry…”

Silence again followed.

“I know it’s far too late now, but I should’ve considered how my actions would affect you.” Ursuline sighed. “I was trying to spare you and I from a difficult life.”

Another bitter smile appeared on Isobel’s lips. “So why did you say that earlier?... ”

”Say what?”

“That you wanted to rectify not having been present in my life all those years.”

Ursuline also smiled bitterly. “I don’t know.”

“Hmm…” she responded with disappointment.

“Perhaps because for a moment, I thought that maybe you and I could actually have a chance at a decent life together.”

Isobel’s eyes slightly widened.

“But since my father and brother have kept the dissolution of our engagement from me for this long, then it is proof that we don’t.”

“…”

“Our marriage would have been based on deception. A convenient arrangement that would only benefit my family… And we both deserve better than that.”

“…”

“You were right to end things. It was for the best.”

Another moment of silence followed. 

“Are you happy, Ursuline?…”

He narrowed his eyes. 

“With how your life turned out.”

“I would have to say yes.”

She smiled bitterly. “Then that’s all that matters.”

“Isobel, I—“

“I must go,” she interrupted him. “I need to get back to my duties.”

Ursuline stood up, almost grateful that he didn’t have to return the question. “Of course.”

Isobel also stood up.

“Thank you for your time… and clarification.”

She nodded.

“Please know that I still intend to support what you’re doing here. So many people need it. I will have one of my men bring the money—“

“Ursuline?...” Isobel asked gently.

“Yes?” he replied with hesitation, afraid of what else she might say.

“I would like for us to part on good terms… Would that be alright?”

The question left him speechless.

“I hold no ill will against you.”

“…”

“In fact, I believe you to be a good man.”

A dry chuckle escaped his lips. “That’s generous of you… But I’m not so sure I agree.”

“I don’t expect us to be friends, but I don’t want any bitterness between us…” 

He thought for a moment then held out his hand. “Neither do I.” She reached out and shook it. 

They looked at each other and Ursuline found himself memorizing every detail of her face. She was unusually pleasant to look at, especially with her deep purple eyes that were like precious stones. Somehow, it hurt to know that this may be the last time he’d ever see her. With that, he mustered the nerve to ask his question.

“Do you think we’ll ever cross paths again?”

“If fate allows it, perhaps… I will be away for a long time, traveling all over Osiriya, then Livadon. Farther, if needed.”

“So how do I find you?”

She blinked in surprise, but quickly composed herself. “You won’t… The Temple Knights follow a strict protocol once we leave Balbourne. It’ll be the same in Livadon.”

“I understand,” he replied nonchalantly, hiding his disappointment. 

“Farewell, Ursuline.” 

“Goodbye, Isobel.” 

She headed for the exit first, and he held his breath as he watched her leave. Before stepping outside, she gave him one final glance and smiled. Then, she was gone. 

Ursuline stood in place for a while, committing their fleeting moment to memory. 

Freedom. It had eluded him each time he fought for it. In the end, it was given by the very person whom he always pinned as his would-be metaphorical prison, his personal ball and chain… And now, unbeknownst to Isobel, he was returning her favor with ingratitude and uncertainty.

Ursuline didn’t feel liberated. Nor was he pleased that he let her leave when he now had a million questions for her swirling inside his head. He shook off his strange sentiments and made his way back to his horse. It was best that he leave before he did anything he might regret.

The journey back to Anatol was tiresome, but uneventful. After being gone for so long, Calypse Castle was a long-awaited and welcomed sight. They were home. And this time, Lady Calypse was with them… along with several new mage recruits. 

It was a good change, but came with inconveniences.

Ursuline looked behind him making some of the women giggle as they exchanged knowing looks, and he quickly turned around. He wasn’t particularly keen on having young female mages join their ranks, especially since some of them had initially shown interest in him. Luckily, they had enough sense to keep their distance and behave themselves after introducing himself as one of the high-ranking Remdragon Knights and emphasizing that it was imperative that they maintain propriety and decorum if they wished to remain employed by the order.

He frowned when he remembered that Lady Calypse’s friends were in talks of also joining them eventually. He particularly didn’t like the brown-haired woman with the vulgar mouth. The one who had proudly declared that she was the one who picked that scandalous white gown that her Ladyship wore to the banquet in Balbourne. Each time they crossed paths at the Roemian Palace, she would look at Ursuline as if she were undressing him with her eyes, and Hebaron found it absolutely hilarious. The smaller one was a bit more tolerable, but she thumped about like a troll and quacked on endlessly like a duck.

But alas, having more mages meant that at least one would be dispatched with each group of knights during missions and raids. There would be no more arguing over who Ruth Serbel accompanies based on need or priority.

That whiny pile of bones will finally get what he’d been wishing for for years… More sleep and less work.

As Ursuline moved his gaze to the front of the procession, he saw Riftan hold out his hand and Maximillian take it halfway as they led the troops on horseback. Oddly enough, the sight made Ursuline smile.

“Aww,” Hebaron, who was riding next to him, teased. 

Instantly, his smile disappeared.

“Does watching their pent up romance make you think of someone?...”

He shook his head with annoyance.

“You never did tell me how your visit went, and that was weeks ago.”

“Because it’s none of your business.”

“Well, even if you won’t tell me anything, it’s obvious that she made an impression on you,” Hebaron hummed. Ursuline finally turned to him, his face, deadpan rather than stern like it normally was. “You’re still an ass, but not nearly as cranky since you went to see her.”

He scoffed incredulously.

“And you’ve actually been smiling more… Not like a giddy fool, but enough for me to notice.”

“You’re imagining things,” Ursuline muttered. 

“Ha! Even your responses are less hostile!” Hebaron exclaimed with a finger pointed at him. “You haven’t told me to piss off or called me names.” He grinned. “I think I like this version of you.”

“Piss off, you damn idiot,” Ursuline responded. “Is that hostile enough for you?” Then, he kicked his horse to pick up speed. 

He sighed. 

He hadn’t really noticed, but Hebaron was right. They had argued much less ever since the day he saw Isobel.  Maybe he just got tired of letting his nonsense get to him, but as for his usual demeanor, nothing had changed. If Ursuline was less surly and verbal, it was probably because he had other things in mind.

A week after his visit to the encampment, he felt compelled to return to deliver his promised donation to Isobel himself. If she were there, then he would take it as a sign that in spite of not expecting for them to be friends, she was open to the idea. Then, maybe it would help alleviate the strange feelings he’d been having since they last met. But when Ursuline arrived, he was told that she had already left for an undisclosed location. 

She didn’t wait. Not for him or for a messenger. It all became clear that she really meant what she had said– Isobel wasn’t interested in becoming friends. She just didn’t want any bitterness between them.

They were as good as acquaintances.

It bothered him more than it should and kept him up for nights. Eventually, it was the memory of their last conversation that preoccupied his mind most evenings until sleep would come, and soon, the recurring nightmares he had been having about his loss to Richard Breston were replaced by dreams of Isobel Paran. Sure, it was more pleasant to see her face in his sleep rather than that red-eyed bastard’s, but waking up always left Ursuline with a strange emptiness that he couldn’t shake off until he was busy with his duties.

Isobel Paran should not have such an effect on him. Ursuline knew this.

She was his fiancée only by title. Their names, written on a contract that was signed by their fathers, then nullified by her. The fact was, they were strangers. One decent conversation didn’t change that, nor did her request for them to part amicably. So why had she become a constant figure in his head? Why wouldn’t her presence leave him? 

All of the knights and mages stood up as Lady Calypse entered the banquet hall with the Commander. Riftan was wearing a plain tunic and trousers like he always did when they were home, while her Ladyship was dressed in a luxurious gown with her hair adorned with jewels. As if on queue, Ulyseon made a beeline towards her to shower her with compliments and flattery. Riftan shifted his position to put himself between them before Ulyseon could even come close, and his cold gaze was enough to send the young knight back to his seat in silence.

“I guess, some things hadn't changed even after all this time,” one of the knights who had stayed behind laughed as everyone sat down. “Her Ladyship still has the same effect on poor Lovar, and that fool is still a boy in spite of being fifth-in-command in the order.”

“He’ll grow up soon enough,” Elliot spoke in his defense. “Ulyseon has matured in knighthood, but apparently, not in matters regarding women…”

“Says the expert in the latter,” Gabel sarcastically chimed in.

“Careful, Lachzion…” Hebaron warned playfully. “It may not be long before Charon becomes more knowledgeable than us when it comes to the ladies… I heard that he hit it off with Sidina Chyler shortly before they left Balbourne… ”

Elliot’s face turned red. “Sir Nirtha! She is nothing more than a friend!”

Ursuline watched the exchange in front of him in silence and with little interest.

“How exactly do you plan to rein in that wild mare?… Am I correct that she fancies both you and Ricaydo?”

“Goodness!” Gabel exclaimed. “You’re in over your head, Elliot!”

“What?” Ursuline finally asked with a frown. “Who on earth are you talking about?”

“Lady Calypse’s frequent companion from Nornui.”

“The one who chose that cursed gown?” he asked with a huff.

“Yep.”

Ursuline looked at Elliot. His sensibility wanted to warn him about her, but he could offer no practical advice regarding the matters of the heart or romance. “Proceed with caution. That’s all I will say.”

“Really?...” Gabel asked him with a puzzled look. “You have no further objections or concerns that Elliot may be interested in a woman who may not meet your near impossible standards of purity and temperance? Aren't you two cut from the same prudish cloth?”

“I’m not interested in her!” Elliot protested in the background.

“Why would Ricaydo care when—” Hebaron instantly stopped talking as soon as Ursuline glared at him. 

“What’s going on with Ursuline?” 

“Nothing,” Hebaron answered. “The food is getting cold. We should eat.”

“Nothing my eye,” Gabel prodded. “Out with it.”

“Mind your own business, Lachzion. I said it was nothing.” Then, Hebaron reached out, his large hand grabbing a whole roasted chicken which he set on his plate.

“Listen up!” Riftan called from the head table. “I’ve received King Reuben’s summons to attend the victory celebration at the capital and we are to leave in five days time…”

Hebaron raised his hand. 

“What is it, Vice-Commander?” 

He stood up. “Now, you all know how much I love grand celebrations and copious amounts of liquor,  but could I please sit this one out?… After Balbourne, then the festivities here, I don’t think I want to attend another celebration for the next decade.”

Other voices joined in.

“Hear! Hear!”

“I don’t want to leave…”

“Why couldn’t we have stopped there on the way here?…”

Riftan raised an eyebrow. “I, too, would prefer not to leave Anatol so soon—“

“That’s because her Ladyship is finally home!” Sir Oberon yelled from the back of the hall, making everyone laugh and Maximillian blush.

“And it’s about time we see some children grace Calypse Castle!” the old man continued to tease.

Riftan smiled at his wife before playfully glaring at him. “You’re drunk, Sir Oberon! But we shall take your demand into consideration.” Then, he grazed Maximillian's cheek with his thumb, causing her to turn beet red.

“Forgive me, Milady!” Oberon yelled again. “I’m just teasing you and the Commander! We are just so very happy to have you back! Not him… Just you!”

She nodded before covering her face with her hands and everyone in the room began to clap and pound their fists on the table. When the noises subsided, Riftan continued.

“All of you had varying degrees of contribution to the success of the last campaign whether you were in Livadon, Osiriya, the Lexos Mountains, or here in Anatol… In terms of being celebrated by the kingdom, you all deserve it, but I plan on only bringing a fifth of our members, at the most. I will not make the mistake of leaving Anatol undermanned and vulnerable again like I had years ago, especially with our current population.”

Everyone began to murmur to themselves.  

“Maxi and I must both attend,” he looked at her once again, who was now beaming with pride and appreciation for her husband. “As well as all high-ranking knights…”

“Dammit,” Hebaron groaned. 

“My second through fifth-in-command will decide who else will stay or go. I want a list compiled in three days for my approval.”

"We gotta do that too?..." The red giant complained as chatter filled the room.

As they all ate, Ursuline neatly cut his food in silence laying out his plans in his mind. The first thing he will do as soon as they arrive and get settled in Drachium would be to pay Trevor and Razvan a visit.