The Obsidianite Jewel (Ikemen Prince Fanfiction)

Chapter 19: My Everything

Chevalier took a deep breath. Once again in the span of few months he was clad in armour from head to toe. Only now, the colours he wore were not his own. The black metal of his breastplate was broken by the brilliant blue and silver of the crest that was carved onto it; an imperial dragon. A black cape fell over his broad left shoulder, the fur lining keeping him warm against the unforgiving cold of the north. James sat next to him, wearing a similar get-up.

"How are you feeling?", the prince asked nonchalantly as he twisted a cigarette to smoke. He laid his back on the walls of the shaking carriage that was taking them to the King's army's camp.

"I'm not sure what you mean", Chevalier lied.

"Have you ever fought for anything but your country?", the prince blew rings of smoke over the heads of the other soldiers that accompanied them. Chevalier did not grant him an answer. "How does it feel to sell yourself?", James grinned, yet his expression remained sad.

Chevalier gave him a stern look. Deep down James was right. Never before in his life had Chevalier fought for anything but the welfare of his kingdom. He was heading into an unknown land, to fight amongst unknown faces and for unknown people. He thought of the man he once was. How would he had laughed at the lengths he was going for the most useless of emotions; love.

Useless....yet so precious to him by now that even a step back from the fight would break his heart in two.

The carriage stopped. Chevalier followed the Istidorian soldiers on the mud-covered road. About thirty meters further away, on the grassy field of a hill, stood a fortified camp. The flags, blue, black and silver, dance to the tune of the cold north wind. He looked to his side. James walked proudly as he was welcomed by all who saw him. Their eyes looked up to him for salvation the way they never looked at Chevalier.

"You were born to be a King", Y/n's father had told Chevalier before they left, "But you never learned to be a leader".

They entered a great blue tent. Countless maps of the surrounding areas were spread over a long wooden table. A council of military leaders stood over them, moving pieces and yelling at each other as they pretended to discuss their next move. They bowed the moment they saw James enter the room.

"I'll be leaving shortly for Midsomer", James informed them, "But I brought you a replacement"

With a big smile, he patted Chevalier's shoulder as the latter glared at him. The lords looked at each other with confusion.

"With all due respect your Highness, we don't want a replacement. We want you"

"Awww", James waved his right hand, his left cupping his cheek like a blushing young girl, "That is very sweet of you general but it is for the King to decide"

And with that, he left Chevalier alone at the mercy of a rainfall of suspicion. He was no longer the absolute leader that he was in his country. These men knew nothing about him. They owed him no loyalty and had no reason to offer it. He gazed down at the map. He was never good with people, but there was one thing he was good at.

"We are about to be ambushed", he said as he observed the locations of the enemy armies.

The other men looked at him with disbelief. They were all old, none younger than 60, but their brows were more creased from discontent rather than age. He could see how y/n's skill and intellect could have been shoved aside when men like these served the crown.

"What are you talking about?", a short one asked foolishly.

Chevalier did not want to explain. He had never spent time to do so in his life. Yet, he took a deep breath and pointed at the hills to the south and the forest to the east. "To my understanding the enemy has canons. If they moved over here....up the hill....we would be well within their range. They would also gain the high ground so it would be almost impossible for us to retaliate. The army to the east has made camp here and has made no movement according to your scouts in quite a while; cause they don't want to. They are meant to prevent our escape through the forest, forcing us towards the river. But that would trap us later on.....over here". Chevalier let his finger fall on a waterfall about a mile away from where their camp stood. Scoffs came from the other side of the table.