You stop her by grabbing her wrist, gloved hands pressed against soft, cold skin.
"What are you, Ms. Thorne?" You ask with malice, your lilac eyes flared with irritation as a vile smirk played on Irene's lips, and that only added fire to your aggra...
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A/N: Before we begin, I saw a comment about the year 1084, and grandfather clocks don't exist in that era, but here...things are different. Perhaps I should have added this knowledge as well, but time runs differently in the story.
A different providence, a different time. Hehe, enjoy reading! Oh and uh, surprise in the last part of the chapter-
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Seulgi's eyes stare at the field, her armor heavy, and her sword; heavier despite sitting down on the bleachers.
Her eyes follow the movement of her fellow tourney members, the juniors, and those who are close to her level. She watched them all with a hawk-like gaze, their movements are polished and swift; just like hers.
She looks at her sword, the sounds of grunts, iron clashing against iron, and cinching of armor resonate throughout the field, but her mind was elsewhere. She balled her open palm and relaxed it, 'Have I slowed down?' She looks up at the sky and closed her eyes. 'Surely not, right?'
Without thinking, her mind wanders to obsidian black eyes, pale skin, and cold words.
"I've said it countless times, Seulgi, I don't see you that way, I saw you as a wonderful woman who can bring high honor to the academy, and a great captain, and friend to many of the students here, but not like that."
Seulgi opened her eyes, her eyes stung and her chest tightened.
'Bringing high honor to the school,' she thought bitterly. 'Was a way for me to want your recognition, Irene, as well as your heart.'
But the former thought otherwise.
The orange-haired girl shook her head sideways, thwarting her thoughts away from a distant memory.
"Irene chose her..." Seulgi mumbled, "You should respect that."
'I should respect that.' She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.
"I thought I would find you here." A female voice interjects, warm and soothing. The tourney captain turned and saw Wendy; the vice president of Clalmonia standing behind her, just a few meters away from where she sat. The vice president has her blazer draped over her shoulders, leaving her in her gray vest, buttoned-up shirt, and a cravat; a distinct uniform for the council scolaire officers.
"Wendy," The captain mused, "What are you doing here?"
The short-haired girl gave her a small smile, "I looked everywhere for you, but I supposed I should have looked here first, saves me the time to deliver the president's orders."
President? "Irene?" Seulgi inquires a little too eagerly. The captain winced.
Wendy ignores her reaction, "From now on, I'll be assisting with the tourney's needs."
