The King's Knight

003 ;

"Do not speak of such nonsense, father." Sapnap snapped, "You'll be able to heal within time, the doctors said so."

The duke smiled at his hot-tempered son, "Only time will tell. Speaking of which, your majesty if I may ask, from where have you sought out this young soul?" He eyed George with a sense of familiarity as he spoke, to which George responded by a daring stare back at him.

"He is from the Kingdom of Aphrodite. The kingdom which has now fallen into ruins." Dream spoke smoothly, as if baiting a reaction out of George.

Yet, George simply stayed unemotional towards his words.

"I see.. I'm surprised my son has kept his cool this whole time. Forgive him for his rudeness your majesty, and Sir George-"

"I shan't listen to such words, please excuse me your majesty. I'll be off to the training grounds now." Sapnap interrupted, slight anger laced in his voice before storming off.

Dream lets out a sigh, "I'll go talk some sense into him. Sir George, stay outside-"

"The guard is allowed to stay, your majesty. I wish to have a few words with him." The duke smiled. Dream looked towards the duke and George, hesitating slightly before nodding his head and leaving the room.

"Has my son disrespected you in any way, Sir George? Gods know how impulsive that man can be sometimes." The duke threw him a cheeky smile to which George replied with a neutral expression, "Not at all your grace. Marquess Sapnap was merely lifting the tension with his words."

The duke chuckled at his response, "Like his mother, that one is. You may have heard of our family, yes? My wife, the duchess is currently out participating in an investigation about a bandit situation that occurred near a small village."

The Armstrongs. A family full of soldiers built exactly fit for war. Their bloodline consisted of fighters, generals, knights etc. for years.

It was no surprise that no one would dare attempt to assassinate them despite harnessing negative feelings towards the king.

Of course the king's only weakness had to be as strong as he was. If not, maybe stronger.

"I send my prayers to the Gods for her grace's safety." George bowed his head slightly, placing a hand over his heart before standing up straight and placing both hands behind his back.

"A tough woman she is." The duke smiled in admiration. "Speaking of Gods, Sir George are you aware of the Gods who used to rule these kingdoms?"

George felt his throat go dry. He had to be careful now. "Yes. I was raised and told of these stories by my parents." The duke hummed, "Stories that we've all grown up with, of course. But have you heard of the talks going about?"

"No, your grace. I haven't much time to venture into town." George said smoothly, keeping up his neutral expression. Maybe killing this sharp man wouldn't be so bad.

"There's talk going around that when the Gods had left the earth, their immortality and abilities were passed down to their descendants." George's fingers twitched ever so slightly.

Just as he moved his hand to grab his sword, the duke added, "I find it fascinating. I'm sure you know that the last thing us mortals would even think of is meeting a God.."

George lowered his hand, listening carefully to his next words. "But.. As a dying man, I would love to meet a God. To be in peace knowing that the very people I've put my faith and trust in still exist. For the Gods, who people see with much negativity still carry a burden and a heart big enough to roam amongst us mortals."

He couldn't speak, for he was speechless. The Gods were selfish, blinded by their own power. They could not be trusted. Meeting a God was like throwing your life away. They did not cherish the mortals' weak lives.

The very reason for George's choice of path.

He could've been a king, as the current king he served was. He was a king. But not anymore, he'd drove his own kingdom to a downfall, and this was not the first time.

Still, the weak man laid before him spoke with a tired yet bright expression, almost like he had held onto this useless dream since he'd been told of such stories.

Maybe mortals weren't as cowardly as he thought.

"My apologies for interrupting, but Sir George and I have urgent matters to attend to back at the palace." Dream rushed in with Sapnap beside him, both slightly covered in sweat. George had guessed that they had been sparring.

"No worries, your majesty. It was a pleasure conversing with you, Sir George." The duke nodded towards him. "The pleasure of receiving such an honour should be mine, your grace."

Just as George started walking to the doors where his king was awaiting outside, the duke called out, "Thank you, George."

George paused in his tracks for a moment but hadn't bothered to look back at the dying man. For he knew that his thanks wasn't directed towards the company that George had given him.

The Duke of Armstrong passed away peacefully in his bed two weeks later.

The sharp man who'd been able to figure out George's identity in which he'd tried so hard to conceal. An identity that no mortal should ever learn of, not even the kings he'd served. For George's real identity was not one of a mere mortal roaming the lands.

He was the God of love and beauty, a descendant of the God, Aphrodite. Past ruler of the kingdom that had recently had it's downfall yet again.