Sorry for the long wait! I'm surprised I managed to finish this chapter. 14 pages for your pleasure, folks! I hope you enjoy!
On another note I would like to gladly thank the following people for reviewing, you guys are AWESOME: GhibliGirl91, rhetorically yours, poornmiserable, random reader, Arieta41 (thank you so much for reviewing each chapter, I am truly touched), and Lauraeffingiero (my deepest gratitude for your wonderfully long reviews, they really kept me going).
Sorry in advance for any grammatical/spelling error, I'm pretty sure this chapter is full of them.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Jane and the Dragon, it belongs to Martin Baynton.
The only thing I own is the story and Lord Victor (if you want to use the character just have a note saying he's mine and you can use him ;D ).
O0oo0O
Red Snow
Chapter 7: Promise
"Is it not exciting, Jane?"
"Um, what?"
"The feast!"
"I suppose…"
"You do not sound excited."
"Oh, sorry. I have a lot on my mind, Pepper."
Jane was sitting on a bench in the Royal Kitchens absently watching Pepper, now the Head Chef, order her cooks to prepare the feast for tonight. The kitchen was packed and busy; Jane wondered why she was even here.
Well, Pepper did say she wanted to talk about this surprising news, Jane thought. But I suppose she does not have any spare time since we have to prepare for the celebration.
Her mind kept drifting back to the ships she had seen on the horizon, and the imposing feeling of watching them head for the port.
Jane felt a shiver go up her spine.
Was it really a false alarm?
"Oh just imagine!" Pepper exclaimed during a brief interlude between cooking and ordering the servants. "It will be like a Royal Ball. With dancing and music. It will be wonderful!"
"I suppose…"
Jane really loved Balls, but during the four years of her knight's apprenticeship her mother had not allowed her to attend without a gown. She was going to relent in the next ball seeing as Jane would have been knighted.
Perhaps Mother will let me wear my knights' tunic this year, seeing as it is not really The Royal Ball.
But the prospect of wearing a gown was not the source of Jane's growing unease.
"Oh, the Queen is so happy, reunited with her long lost brother at last."
"I did not even know that the Queen had a brother."
"Yes," Pepper agreed. "Neither did I. The Queen rarely talks about herself."
"I wonder why we have never seen him," Jane mused. "Surely he would have been allowed to visit his sister."
"Maybe circumstances did not permit it."
"And bringing a few dozen warships did?"
"Oh, Jane," Pepper chided, "The whole court was there to welcome the Queen's brother, and he said—"
"Yes, I know," Jane sighed. "That an early winter storm blew their ships off course going home after a campaign."
"And that they will only be here a week," Pepper added. "To load up on supplies and then they will be on their way. Nothing to worry about."
Jane could not help but feel restless. This seemed a little strange.
Too strange.
When the Queen's brother made his entrance at the Throne Room, Queen Gwendolyn was so overjoyed she rushed to her little brother's side and clasped her arms around him as a mother would, full of love and longing. And, like a child, the Queen's brother instantly relaxed in her arms and closed his eyes.
Once they parted the twin ice-blue eyes met, one pair was misted with tears and full of joy while the other was perplexingly emotionless. The only expression those twin faces shared were their dazzling smiles.
Jane saw the Queen's brother's face from the line of Knights flanking the wall of the Throne Room and his eyes seemed strangely familiar to her. She knew she had seen the veiled demeanor of his eyes before but could not quite place the incident.
"Is Lord Victor not a handsome man?" Pepper dreamily asked, taking Jane out of her musing.
"What?" Jane replied, her face slightly scarlet.
"He is truly his sister's brother," Pepper continued. "They are graceful, charming, admirable—and not to mention beautiful."
"Yes, they have the same eyes, and their hair is the same color," Jane noted. "Only Lord Victor's hair appears a bit darker."
Pepper tossed Jane an amused glance.
"What?" Jane asked.
"Nothing," Pepper said returning to her work. "I am not saying anything."
Surely Pepper does not believe I fancy this man? Jane thought.
"He certainly is much younger than the Queen," Pepper remarked while attending to half a dozen pots and pans that cooked savory dishes. "He is no more than 20 years old."
"Yes, and to be a Captain and Commander of an entire army at such a young age."
Pepper gave Jane another sly sideways glimpse. Her hazel eyes bore into Jane, as if she could read her very thoughts, and Jane felt herself become increasingly uncomfortable.
"Well," Jane said abruptly walking away from the Head Cook's piercing stare with rosy cheeks. "I should be attending to my duties now and you to yours. Good day, Pepper."
As Jane marched out of the Kitchens, Pepper could not suppress her laughter and burst into a fit of giggles.
"Good day to you, Jane," Pepper managed to call back.
Laughter and music reverberated throughout the Throne Room which was richly decorated for the feast it was currently holding. The whole Kingdom was invited for the festivities, along with all of Lord Victor's troops. Four years ago, the Throne Room could not have possibly been capable of retaining so many people, but thanks to Jane and Dragon's golden discovery, the Castle could afford such luxurious renovations.
The Throne Room was immaculate; stained glass windows adorned the walls next to the fine tapestries and oil lamps that illuminated the entire chamber with an orange-yellow glow. Great mess-hall tables flanked the walls of the room which gave a clearing to the lush red carpet that traveled from the Throne Room's massive wooden doors all the way up the small flight of stairs towards the King and Queen's thrones, which were now replaced by the finest table.
There sat the King and Queen respectively, Prince Cuthbert and Princess Lavinia, Lord Victor and a few Lords and Ladies of Kippernia's Court—all clad in their finest garb.
"Jane, over here!"
Jane turned, looking for the source of the familiar voice and walked over to the table that held all her friends.
"Hello Pepper, Rake, Smithy," Jane said, nodding to each one in turn while taking her seat. The trio returned her greetings.
"Jane, I am so glad you could make it," Pepper exclaimed. "And no gown."
"No gown," Jane agreed with a smile. "Mother finally relented."
A servant appeared and placed Jane's food and drink before her, she murmured her thanks. Smithy, Rake and Pepper already had plates and cups set before them, and they all started eating.
"Pepper," Jane asked. "Is it all right for you to be here? Do you not have duties to perform in the Kitchens?"
"Oh, do not worry, Jane," Pepper replied. "The Head Chef can take a break, besides; I have an Assistant Cook looking after things while I am gone."
"It is nice having assistants helping out with the work," Rake piped in. "It yields to more productivity."
They all agreed on that, Rake's garden had grown and he had a dozen workers to assist with the grueling labor. Smithy's forge and stables expanded so he had a few stable boys to help out with the duties.
"The work load is lighter," Smithy admitted, "with the extra hands pitching in—not that it was too demanding," he quickly added, aware that there were and possibly could be ears listening into any sign of unrest, disgruntlement—and therefore, treason.
"Nothing is too difficult for the sake of my King," he concluded.
All the people seated at the table agreed and toasted to that.
With the increase in wealth, the King's leniency had somewhat withdrew and he had many spies on the lookout for any indication of distress within Kippernia that could lead to rebellion and thus defection into neighboring kingdoms, whose alliances could easily and eagerly shift with a slight change in the scale.
Money is the root of all evil, Jane thought.
The King was trying his best to ward off tribulations and conflict, but the proverb speaks all too true.
"Where is Jester?" Jane asked, changing the subject.
"Providing entertainment, no less?" Rake piped, they all chuckled to that.
As the trio fell into conversation, Jane began to look around the Throne Room and at the tables lined up against the walls. It seemed the seating arrangement was based on class. The peasants were the closest to the doors, then came the artisans, the middle was where Jane and her companions were seated was a place reserved for the King's servants. Then came the military and following that came the nobility who were beneath the King's Table, thus leaving space for a dance floor in the middle of the chamber.
When Jane briefly glanced at the military table she noticed Sir Theodore, Sir Ivon, Gunther and the Knights laughing heartily while drinking their wine. At first Jane disapproved of such public intoxication, but she could not help but perceive the rich mirth radiating from Gunther's face, the rosy tinge painting his cheeks and the light dancing in his once solemn grey eyes. However, what really caught her attention was the unguarded smile that bloomed on his face. Jane could not recall another incident when he appeared so happy. For "happy" was the right word. He looked so genuinely and innocently happy.
Jane felt a sudden warm tingling feeling spread from her heart throughout her chest. It was such a strange sensation, especially since it was directed towards Gunther of all people—but the closest emotion she could relate it to was happiness. Happiness for being able to see Gunther smile after years of seeing him smirk condescendingly, narrow his eyes in frustration and arrogance, carry himself with a mock air of detachment, and, for fractions of seconds, sadness enveloping those grey eyes that now gleamed merrily.
Jane never believed that Gunther was capable of an unadulterated smile, all shields dropped.
Perhaps it is the wine, Jane reasoned.
Yet, inexplicably, Jane felt a flowing sense of happiness directed towards Gunther.
I am happy for him, Jane admitted as a smile warmly formed on her face.
Gunther's head suddenly snapped towards Jane's as he caught her gaze. Her eyes widened as she stifled a gasp, her cheeks bright scarlet.
Jane hastily broke the contact as she swerved her own head away from his direction and back at her plate. Her heart beat faster and she felt out of breath.
Jane's quick movement broke the trio's conversation as they turned their attention at her with looks of concern.
"Jane?" Pepper asked. "Are you all right?"
"Yes," she exhaled and gave a not-so-convincing smile to reassure them. "I do believe I drank too much wine."
The trio eyed her suspiciously but said no more of it and continued their conversation, and for that Jane was grateful.
But, if one so bothered to steal a quick glance at Jane's wine goblet, it would reveal itself to be quite full.
"And Father always said that you died in a raid twelve years ago," the Queen sadly recalled.
"Yes, and if you were to remember," Lord Victor replied. "Father never took a liking to me."
"That is not true! Father loved us both."
"I wonder if you could ever grow to love the person who took that which was most precious to you," Victor whispered.
"Father never blamed y—"
"Ah," Victor sighed, closing his eyes. "Only in your presence."
It was about an hour into the feast, the dancing was going to start soon. Music drifted to the King's Table. King Caradoc sat at the Head, dressed splendidly as usual. Queen Gwendolyn sat at the King's left-handed side wearing a particularly becoming sapphire gown. Lord Victor sat opposite to his sister, at the King's right-handed side, a place reserved for the most esteemed of guests. He wore the most spectacular Knightly attire, fit for a commander. Lord Victor was dressed in an expensive blue surcoat with rich golden embroidery that was worn over a beautiful craftsmanship of metal that was his breastplate. His outfit was finished with a black cloak that was fastened on with a stunning golden brooch that was shaped into a miniature coat-of-arms. The insignia had a single lustrous diamond at the center, with silver designs woven into the gold.
The King and his men had a little too much wine and were roaring incessantly at a joke made by the King's Fool. This provided an opportunity for the reunited siblings to have a disclosed conversation.
"Nevertheless, Victor," Queen Gwendolyn continued with pain reflecting in her eyes. "Twelve years. Where were you in all that time? Why did you not try to contact me?"
"And now, my people!" the King boomed, calling everyone's attention. "We shall begin the first dance of the evening. Normally, it would be I, but seeing as we have such a worthy guest, I proclaim to give the honor to our Lord Victor."
The hall was filled with the thunderous cheers that echoed across the walls.
"Your Highness is much too kind," Lord Victor replied once the cheering died down. The King motioned him to continue. "Throughout my stay in this magnificent Kingdom, I had yet to meet such a gracious, generous, and noble King. I will not do him the dishonor of rejecting such a benevolent offer. I humbly accept such an honorable proposal."
The great chamber was once again enraptured with the cries of the crowd's approval.
Lord Victor stood up to his full statuesque height, walked around the King's Table and offered his hand to Queen Gwendolyn who accepted, much to the dismay of the ladies in the court.
Lord Victor led Kippernia's Queen to the grand space below the King's Throne. Never letting go of his sister's hand, Victor gently laid his left hand on Gwendolyn's waist while she rested hers on his shoulder. Music that once softly echoed throughout the Throne Room now rapturously filled the marble enclosure.
Beholding Queen Gwendolyn and Lord Victor dance seemed like a dream, it truly was ethereal. The floated gracefully across the dance floor, bodies moving perfectly to the music's rhythm.
"Please," Gwendolyn whispered. "Answer my questions, Victor. Where did you go?"
"You know very well where I went, Elder Sister," Victor replied. "I have already told you."
"Then why? Why did you abandon our Father in favor of another Kingdom's apprenticeship?"
"I did not abandon him, Gwendolyn," he whispered. "I barely escaped with my life."
"What…? Father would never—!"
"Ah, alas," Victor sighed. "You forget all too soon what a monster he was."
Pain clouded Gwendolyn's face.
"Why did you not come to me?" she asked with closed eyes and knitted eyebrows.
Lord Victor crouched his head next to Kippernia's Queen.
"Why should I have gone to you, Elder Sister?" His soft breath sent a chill down her spine. "You were the one that abandoned me."
Gwendolyn's eyes instantly flew open; her face was marred with a shocked expression.
He then straightened his back and towered over the Queen with a beaming smile and an ice-cold stare.
"V-Victor…" she managed to utter.
"Did you know, Gwendolyn, that our hometown of Ankarcrona was in a raid one month ago and that our poor beloved Father perished in the skirmish?"
Queen Gwendolyn's head slightly lowered as her pale-blue orbs were brimming with tears; she was too stunned to reply. A small smile crept onto the corners of Lord Victor's lips as he looked down on the Queen of Kippernia's devastated face.
The music stopped, Lord Victor released and stepped away from his sister, giving her a deep bow, which Kippernia's Queen absently returned while trying desperately to compose her countenance.
People from the court cheered for the beautiful spectacle they beheld, a crowd of dance couples formed on the marbled floor as the music began once again.
A triumphant smile adorned Jane's face as she held her hand out to Gunther, who was sprawled on the ground.
Three years ago, both squires received a harsh reprimand from Sir Theodore for not demonstrating chivalry towards their fellows after a sparring match—namely, for not helping a defeated comrade get on their feet. However, since their animosity had remained consistent throughout the years, both Jane and Gunther—as an unspoken agreement—only extend their grudging hands in fellowship in the presence of a superior, in this case, Sir Theodore.
"My, my," an unfamiliar voice called. "What a fearsome battle."
Both Jane and Gunther turned. "Good morning, My Lord," they replied while hastily bowing in unison.
"So this is the Lady-Knight I have heard about," Lord Victor pondered while striding closer, King and Queen in tow.
"Lady-Squire," Gunther savagely muttered.
Jane briefly glanced at Gunther, her face reddening with rage.
The donkey is obviously embarrassed that he lost to me in front of the King and Queen, Jane thought. But, maybe more so in Lord Victor's presence.
"Ah, you are yet a squire, My Lady?" Victor asked.
Gunther took a sharp intake of breath, Jane was astounded.
Goodness, what keen ears he has.
"Yes, My Lord," Jane managed to reply.
"Oh, I cannot believe that," Lord Victor said, curiously cocking his head to one side while his pale-blue eyes pierced her. "You have shown such skill."
"Yes, she has proven herself capable," Sir Theodore chimed in. "But she needs a little more time to improve in conduct."
"How vague," Victor mused as he vaguely stared at the endless sky. "From which I must guess that you have done something quite foolish, Lady-Squire."
Jane lowered her head as her eyes fixed at the cold dirt at her feet.
"Yes, My Lord."
Lord Victor directed his gaze at Jane and graced her with a soft smile. "Well, something must be done to remedy the situation."
What?
Jane's head snapped up, her heart skipped a beat and her mind was racing.
"Brother," Queen Gwendolyn interrupted. "That is very kind of you, but I believe you should not meddle in these affairs. It is quite beneath you."
"Nonsense, Elder Sister. I am used to dealing with issues of subordinates and I trust that this will be quite amusing."
"Oh, let him be, My Queen," King Caradoc declared. "I want to see what he has in mind."
Queen Gwendolyn reluctantly relented; she had a swelling feeling of agitation since the Celebratory Ball.
"How about this?" Lord Victor offered after some thought. "If you manage to hold your own against me for, oh, let us say, 30 seconds, you shall then be knighted, here and now."
Gasps rippled through Royalty and military alike.
Surely he cannot be serious…? Jane thought. This is unheard of, 30 seconds… but…
Her eyes widened in shock as she gaped at Lord Victor's calm visage and chilling eyes that bored into her.
But… is he that strong…?
"Brother—" Gwendolyn began.
"What do you say, Lady-Squire?" Victor asked with a gentle grin.
Jane then turned to Sir Theodore for approval.
"It is fine with me if our King consents," Sir Theodore said, but one could sense disinclination and wariness lacing his voice.
"Oh, do accept, Jane," King Caradoc called. "This shall be quite a spectacle."
She scarcely trusted to hope, but hope was already planted in front of her in the form of Lord Victor. He was offering her a chance, a shot to have her dreams become reality once more. Jane would be a fool not to accept.
"I accept, My Lord," Jane said, determination framing her countenance.
"That is what I like to hear," Lord Victor replied. "Sir," he continued, motioning to Gunther. "I bid you, lend me your practice sword."
Gunther stepped up and cautiously gave Victor his wooden sword while throwing Jane an expression she could not quite place.
Ever since the celebratory feast two days ago, with the locking of eyes and the unintentional exchange of smiles something changed within Jane. While Gunther still regarded her in his usual apathetic manner—except for the unusual glances he would toss her while she was not looking—Jane's perception of Gunther had changed. Gunther's unguarded smile not only marked a moment of happiness for him, Jane had been able to witness a glimmer of Gunther more as an actual person and less like an entity of rivalry.
Lord Victor thanked Gunther then turned his attention to Jane.
"Now I would like for you," he said gesturing to the pair of Royalty and Knights, but never taking his eyes off Jane, "to begin to count—softly, if you can—once our Sir Theodore gives us the signal."
Everyone nodded in understanding and agreement.
"Do your best, Squire Jane," Lord Victor whispered.
"Are you ready, Jane?" Sir Theodore asked.
Jane swallowed hard, her heart was racing, but her resolve was set.
I will do better than "hold my own," Jane asserted. I will defeat you.
"Yes, sir."
"Begin!"
A cry issued from Jane's lips as she lunged forward and commenced to rain blows on her opponent.
I will not lose!
Lord Victor effortlessly parried all her attacks, his ice-blue eyes were calculating her every movement, his puncturing gaze was searching for an opening—any sign of weakness.
Jane was floating skillfully around her opponent, attacking in all directions, her footwork was masterful.
I cannot lose!
Lord Victor suddenly switched from defense to offense. With each swing of his blade Jane barely found time to parry, for he was extremely strong and fast. Every time his sword met hers, she felt the blow's vibrations through her body.
Victor swung wide, Jane blocked, and her feet slightly skidded on the ground. In an instant he was behind her, his blade slashing towards her. Jane's eyes widened in surprise as she turned and tried to parry Victor's sword thrust.
She was too late.
Lord Victor's wooden sword smashed into Jane's ribcage, effectively knocking the wind out of her as she crumbled to the ground. His sword tip was drifting precariously above her neck.
"Ah, how disappointing," Lord Victor sighed, a shadow of a smile decorating his lips. "I do believe I overestimated you, Squire Jane."
I…lost?
Jane's mind was swimming, she could not draw a breath of air and her side radiated with pain at each exertion for breath.
I cannot… breathe…
"Jane, are you all right?" a concerned voice called.
I that… Gunther? Jane thought dimly as she stared at the immense azure sky.
"Brother!" the Queen cried. "I believe she is choking!"
Lord Victor calmly crouched down and pulled Jane into an upright position. He then began to gently pat her back as the foursome crowded around them. Jane suddenly took a ragged breath.
I can breathe!
"I am deeply sorry," Lord Victor's said; she lifted her watery eyes towards him. "I should not have been so rough with you." He then gave her a seemingly sheepish grin. "Please forgive me, Lady Jane."
To which Jane just nodded dumbly, still in shock over what transpired so quickly.
It was such a blur… it happened so fast.
"However, I am curious over how she did," Lord Victor said standing up. "Sir Theodore, the time if you please?"
Theodore gave him a stern, cold glance.
"15 seconds, My Lord."
No…
Jane could already feel herself sinking, she hated this feeling, it felt sickening, but no matter how much she revolted against it, it was still there—the feeling of failure was smothering her.
"My, my," Lord Victor replied turning once again to Jane, who still sat on the ground. "You did quite well, My Lady."
He then offered her his hand and lifted Jane off the ground.
I… lost.
Jane hung her head and clenched her fists, her nails burrowing into her palm.
"Now, now, do not fret, my dear," Lord Victor called. Jane raised her head and he rewarded her with an especially dazzling grin. "Rejoice, for I have many in my command who cannot withstand 10 seconds, let alone 15."
"That was quite a spectacle," King Caradoc beamed. "Thank you, Jane. You have thoroughly amused me. Come now," he continued walking towards the gardens. "You must tell me how you have become so proficient with the sword, Lord Victor. I have never seen the likes of it before."
Lord Victor bade his leave and strode alongside the King, leaving Queen Gwendolyn, who watched Jane with a mixture of concern and sadness.
"I am so sorry, Jane," the Queen's voice gently spoke.
"You have no reason to apologize, Your Grace. Your emotions are truly wasted on one so unworthy as I," Jane softly replied, bowing to her. "But I humbly thank you for your consideration."
The Queen smiled wryly, and then followed her brother and husband up the steps to the Royal Gardens.
A pair of blue, grey and green eyes warily watched Lord Victor as he disappeared from view. Both Knights appeared lost in deep thought, eyebrows furrowed in what seemed to be anger.
"Sir Theodore?" Jane asked, awakening both Knights from their thoughts. "May I be excused from my duties for the day?"
"Yes, Jane," Sir Theodore replied. "And do get that wound looked after."
Jane began wobbling towards the Kitchens.
"Gunther," Theodore called back. "Might you not offer your assistance to a comrade in need?"
"Yes, Sir Theodore," Gunther replied as he walked towards Jane, who allowed Gunther to take her arm and give his support in Sir Theodore's company, but inwardly seethed.
I do not need any help.
Jane was sick with embarrassment. Try as hard as she might, the title of Knighthood keeps eluding her, and in Gunther's presence no less. Her failure only gave way to more of his taunting. Jane looked up at Gunther, expecting him to be sneering in derision at her. She was a little shocked to see his eyes looking ahead, glazed over in deep concentration. Jane could swear she could see concern and anger etched on his features, but by now she was too exhausted to care.
It will probably turn into a bruise, Jane thought distantly as she gingerly touched her side, wincing slightly at the pain. Most likely a big one.
Jane suddenly felt Gunther's grip on her arm grow tighter, not in a painful manner, but in a comfortable one, much to her surprise. Gunther was never the prime example of reassurance, so Jane wondered why she felt that way now. She absentmindedly wondered how it would feel to have those strong arms wrapped around her in an embrace. Jane immediately recoiled from the thought.
Why would I ever think of such a thing about Gunther?
Jane's breath hitched as she wildly searched her mind for an answer.
I am just tired and confused, she quickly reasoned. And I probably hit my head when I fell.
Once they were out of Sir Theodore's sight, Jane jerked her arm away from Gunther and hastily entered the Kitchens.
It was a fairly early morning, a few minutes after dawn. The sunlight breaking through the horizon was obscured and muddled by the heavy storm clouds that hung over the Kingdom of Kippernia.
Heavy panting and running footsteps were heard traveling towards the Knights Quarters that certainly did not belong to a servant since the clinking of chainmail accompanied the traveler.
The Kingdom always awakened at the crack of dawn, so one could see the King's subjects begin to arouse and start their morning routine.
The runner burst through the door of the Knights Quarters without a thought of propriety and ran up the stairs, followed by the sounds of jeers and disapproval from the embarrassed half-dressed Knights.
"Sir Ivon!" the runner called. "Where is Sir Theodore?"
A crashing sound rang as the said figure violently tumbled out of bed and landed face-first in the process.
"Jane!" the red-faced Knight exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
Once seeing his own condition, the half-clad Knight turned a darker shade of crimson from embarrassment and rage.
"Get out!" he hollered.
"Sir Ivon, where is Sir Theodore?"
Hearing the desperation lacing her voice and her frantic demeanor alerted Sir Ivon as he instinctively knew something was wrong.
"What is it, lass?"
"Do you know where he could have gone, Sir?"
Irked that she did not answer his question, Sir Ivon nevertheless dismissed the insubordination seeing as something was amiss.
"Well, I do remember him saying about going to the library about something… Jane!"
Jane instantly swerved and ran down the steps at the word "library," much to the dismay of the mortified Knights, whose bellows were heard throughout the Castle.
As Jane was sprinting in the direction of the Royal Library, only one thought kept coursing through her mind—what an utter fool she was.
Dragon was right, well, he never did take a liking towards him anyways.
Jane dimly remembered the intense gaze he would give Dragon.
How could everyone have been so careless? How could she have been so careless? Sure, Jane was a bit apprehensive of him, something about him seemed… strange. She could not quite pin down what. Nothing in his manners or countenance gave way to this sensation, no, he was the very epitome of chivalry. But there was something else, something Jane could not place. Something about his face… he was a very handsome man; the handsomest Jane has ever laid eyes on. His grin could light up the world, it was so infectious, heartwarming, and even heart-fluttering, but that was not it. His eyes… well, they were a beautiful shade of blue, almost watered down in its paleness, yet the color still shone through. His eyes, however, did hold a glint of something—that which Jane could not quite place. Maybe that was what made her wary and suspicious. But, suspicions or not, how could one suspect him? Given his circumstance towards the Kingdom? Towards the Royal Family?
This made Jane's heart clench as she ran faster.
Why would he do this?
Jane immediately chastised herself, it was not her duty to question, it was her duty to obey and protect what needed to be protected—nothing more.
As Jane gushed through the doors of the Royal Library she stopped dead in her tracks at not necessarily what she saw, but who.
"G-Gunther?" Jane sputtered. "W-what are you doing here?"
"Jane," another voice called. "Did you and your Dragon find anything?"
Sir Theodore's voice brought her back from her initial and seemingly unnecessary stupor.
"Yes, Sir," she promptly replied.
"Then tell us," the old Knight then motioned her towards the table where both men hovered over a detailed map of the Kingdom. When Sir Theodore saw Jane's questioning eyes darting at Gunther he explained the circumstance.
"As you may well know, Jane, it was Gunther's idea for the daybreak scouting mission I set you on."
Jane's eyes broadened at the revelation as she stared at Gunther who had a stoic expression etched on his visage.
"Give us your report, Jane," Gunther said.
Jane did not know why, but the gruffness of his tone made her inwardly twinge. She quickly banished the emotion and regarded the map.
"Lord Victor's troops are amassed at strategic points throughout the Kingdom, here, here, and here," Jane's index finger indicated the locations on the map. "Their warships are blockading the port and the infantry are swarming the main roads, it is as you feared, Sir Theodore," Jane then solemnly looked up at him. "Lord Victor's troops have surrounded the Kingdom."
Gunther was the first to break the thick silence that strained and tensed the room after Jane's ominous news was spoken.
"The troops probably assembled during the night and their actions appear quite clear—Lord Victor plans to attack Kippernia."
The rivals were gazing at their superior, waiting for an order.
Sir Theodore's blue eyes were glazed as if recounting a memory of long past. He blinked and was back in the present.
"Give orders to assemble our troops, have them secure the Kingdom's outer walls and the Castle's inner walls. Have the cavalry outside the Castle walls at the ready. Get two-thirds of the infantry at the Kingdom's walls and the rest inside the Castle's walls."
"And the King and Queen, Sir?" Gunther said.
"We must alert the King and wait for his orders."
"Sir," Jane said. "How do you know Lord Victor has not left the Castle? What if he is still here?"
"Then he is a fool," Gunther scoffed. "He will be captured and this battle will be over much quicker than I would have hoped."
Jane shot him a glare, and then regarded the Captain of the Knights Guard.
"We do not know his motive," Sir Theodore slowly spoke. "We should nevertheless check his room and guard the Royal Family."
"Must it have been this early, my dear?"
"Well, My King, you did grant him a private audience and I believe it is best to honor the engagement."
"Yes, I am quite aware of that, but—"
"Hush, we are almost there. You would not want him to overhear you now, would you?"
King Caradoc and Queen Gwendolyn were walking in the direction of the Throne Room with two Royal Guards in tow. The day had just begun as it was a few moments after the sun broke on the stormy horizon.
The King threw a hearty chuckle, "I suppose not."
The Queen was silent; Kippernia's King glanced over an open window and marveled at the storm clouds.
"My dear, look," the King gestured. "It looks like it will snow today."
Once the Queen turned a smile bloomed from her lips and lit her face.
"Yes, I believe it will."
King Caradoc beamed, it always warmed his heart to see his beloved wife smiling and he knew that the snowfall reminded her of her native country.
They stopped abruptly at the Throne Room's massive wooden doors, which were swiftly opened for them by the guards. The Royal pair stepped over the threshold and the dark doors closed behind them with a definite and resounding echo that traversed the walls of the enclosure. The King and Queen strode over to their respective thrones, the two Royal Guards stayed behind on the other side of the closed doorway.
A figure was already in the room and deeply bowed when the Royal pair entered.
"You may rise, Lord Victor," King Caradoc boomed once both were seated. "And what may I owe the pleasure of this audience?"
Lord Victor did as he was ordered; he was standing in front of the thrones underneath the steps and dressed in his usual exquisite attire.
"Your Majesty is very generous to grant my request, and on such a fine morning, no less?"
"Yes, indeed," the King chuckled. "I must inquire, Victor. Do you love the snow as much as your sister?"
Lord Victor glanced at Queen Gwendolyn's reserved expression and a smile sprung on the corners of his lips.
"I have many fond memories of the snow," Victor pensively replied, his pale-blue orbs glazed over, as if reliving a cherished memory. His smile suddenly fell from his face as his eyes slightly narrowed.
"But every happy moment," Lord Victor slowly said, "is always tarnished." He then looked up at his sister, his eyes flashing cold. "Is it not, Queen Gwendolyn?"
"Victor," the Queen breathed, a soft mist was quietly clouding her eyes.
Kippernia's King appeared lost and slightly uncomfortable.
"Well," the King said. "What is it you wanted to speak about, Lord Victor?"
Victor did not reply, but kept glaring intensely at Gwendolyn; his eyes were boring holes into her flesh. The Queen flinched under his gaze as a flood of guilt welled up inside her heart, threatening to burst loose and consume her being.
After glancing at both siblings, Caradoc seemed confused, but seeing his wife's discomfort made him want to end this quickly.
"What is it that you want from me, Lord Victor?" the King asked.
"I want what you promised me," he whispered in reply.
King Caradoc was taken aback; he could not recall any oath made by him to the younger man. However, it soon became apparent to the King that the Lord was not referring to him.
"Victor…" Gwendolyn's voice came out as a choked sob.
Lord Victor's eyes narrowed, his eyebrows furrowed, and those orbs that once held a pale-blue mirth such a long time ago, now flashed dangerously dark.
"I want what you promised me!" he roared, making both Royals flinch under the force.
"I am sorry, Victor," his elder sister breathed, tears slowly carving a trail down her cheeks. "I am sorry… I could not keep my promise… please… forgive me."
Lord Victor was breathing sharply, as if he was out of breath; he was visibly shaking, as if from rage.
All his composure was gone.
"Why did you not take me with you?" he cried.
The Queen rose from her throne and walked over to the edge of the steps.
"I could not disobey our Father," she solemnly said, her regretful eyes met his frantic ones.
Victor violently shook his head, "You promised me!" His whole form was trembling as he wobbly took a few steps back from his sister. "You promised you would protect me! Why?"
His eyes were downcast as a stream of tears surged from his eyes and cascaded down his face.
"Why, Elder Sister? Tell me, why."
"Oh, Victor!" Gwendolyn cried as she rushed to her little brother's side.
She gently took his face in her hands and cupped his cheeks softly, her thumbs brushing away his tears.
"It does not matter now, little Victor," she crooned. "We are together now." She held his gaze and softly smiled. "Is that not what you wanted?"
A thick silence enveloped the pair. Victor's hands suddenly shot up and gripped Gwendolyn's wrists harshly and with a force strong enough to bruise.
"You betrayed me," his deep voice resonated throughout the hall. "That is unforgiveable."
Victor then roughly pushed her away from him and the Queen collapsed on the floor.
Lord Victor then pulled out his blade and strode towards the throne.
"What are you doing?" Queen Gwendolyn shrieked.
Victor paused for a moment to answer her in a voice so cold it matched his ice-blue eyes.
"I am going to take that which is most precious to you."
And with those final words he lunged at a stupefied King Caradoc, sword flashing at his side.
A cry arose from Queen Gwendolyn's mouth as she scrambled to get up and intercept the blow.
King Caradoc saw the flash of steel, heard the rustle of silk and felt a warm splash of liquid as blood painted his face red. He could not utter a scream, much less a word at the horrific scene that played out before his very eyes. All he could manage was a gasp.
In front of King Caradoc was his beloved Queen impaled on a sword, her very own brother wielding the blade.
A gargled cough escaped Gwendolyn's lips as blood erupted from her mouth. Her eyebrows were knitted with pain as surprise smothered her blue eyes. Victor's hand reached up and caressed her cheek, his eyes marred with sadness.
"Oh, Gwendolyn," he murmured, lifting her chin to meet his gaze. "How could you do such a foolish thing?"
Victor regarded her sadly; he then encased her in his arms and whispered quietly in her ear. "I wanted you to witness your world crumble, see the happiness drain from your gentle face as your country is burned to the ground."
He let out a deep sigh that ruffled her golden hair. Victor then released his sister and stepped back, as if to admire his handiwork.
"I suppose I will have to settle with watching the life fade from your sweet eyes."
Victor then bent over and tenderly landed a kiss on Gwendolyn's cheek.
"Farewell, Elder Sister."
And with those final words, he swiftly pulled out his blood-stained sword from her body.
Jane and Gunther both nodded their understanding and were ready to depart and carry out their orders when a bloodcurdling scream echoed from the halls. The rivals stiffened from the sound, eyes wide with shock.
"It came from the Throne Room," Sir Theodore called, bringing both back to their senses.
Without another word the trio galloped in that direction, each one prepared for the worst.
When they reached the wooden doors a bloody sight came to meet them.
"Oh, no," Jane breathed.
The two Royal Guards were slaughtered and strewn on the floor of the hall.
Sir Theodore dove for the door and ran into the Throne Room with Gunther and Jane both closely behind.
They were not prepared for the ghastly sight set in store for them, and all three were shocked with pure horror.
King Caradoc was crouching in a pool of blood cradling his cherished Queen in his arms, he was weeping bitterly while repeatedly calling, as if in prayer, two words: "My angel."
If one so happened to venture and take a look out the window, one could see smoke rising from the earth as the Kingdom was set aflame, and white fluttering of snow falling towards the ground from the heavens to meet the trailing smoke—as if trying to wash away sin.
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Thank you so much for reading and sticking by me, I really hope you like this chapter and please don't forget to review! Tell me what you think of my newly created character, was he boring? Cliché? Awesome? Or just plain silly? Your comments help me gage what I should or should not do, so don't be shy to drop me a line telling me so.
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Happy Holidays and Happy New Years! Until next time! :)