The Assassin And The King [Completed]

|Chapter Five : The Duel With The King|

I was twelve when I held a sword in my hands for the very first time.

Since then, I have begrudgingly accepted the fact that I am, indeed, very bad with them.

It was my biggest flaw as an assasin.

Victor did train me hard and precisely the skill-or lack of it-did become better. But I won't say I aced at swordsmanship. Now that would never happen.

My mind jogs down memories of my terrible luck with the blades as I stand face-to-face in front of the king holding the very same weapon.

The last round, to my greatest luck (note the sarcasm) is sword fighting. With the king who-to be precise-is awfully good at it.

Valerian Kingston can cut through people with a sword as prominently as his jawline could cut through glass. The whole kingdom is aware of it.

My luck shan't never shine. That is confirmed.

"A wise piece of advice." My attention diverts to Julian standing beside me, "Don't get distracted."

Before I can ask what he means by getting distracted, the bell rings indicating the start of the final round.

Valerian is still in his velvet doublet, not bothering to change into clothes meant for fighting. But then maybe he is oh-so-confident that he'd beat me without batting an eye. That not a single part of his clothes will be touched.

It spites me.

As we round each other in the muddy circular arena, I'm suddenly tempted to ruin those nauseatingly beautiful clothes.

Just because I want to. Just because I can. You see, just because.

After giving a nod of respect for the game, we strike at the same time.

Our swords clash, the heaving clanking of metal against one another creating a resounding noise. Valerian takes a step forward pulling his sword back to his side and I do the same.

We both wait with batted breath for the another to strike as we round again, walking around in circles with our gazes locked on one another's-blue against green.

"Why do you want to join the armory, Miss Winchester?" He asks observing my every move with those hawk-like eyes, waiting for my attention to slip so that he could find an opportunity to strike.

I don't dare to let my focus waver.

Now I understand why Julian told me to not get distracted. It wasn't a game of swords. It was a test of focus.

"It's an honor to be a part of the armory, Milord." I glance down at the way he's balancing himself on his feet before rendering my attention back to the dark green orbs.

Good lord, his stance is perfect.

Valerian raises a mere brow at my answer and then in a movement so quick, he lunges forward. My reflexes move on their own and I bring my sword forward to block the attack.

The metal clanks before he yields his sword back again. What's with him? Why strike if you wish to yield?

"Your eyes look very familiar, Miss Winchester." Valerian's intense gaze fixates on me and for a fleeting moment, I stop breathing.

My eyes.

They're the only part that were left uncovered during all of my assassinations against him-

"They remind me of someone." He continues, those irises the colour of forest after heavy rain peering into mine.

He can't know. He possibly couldn't.