Behind the Royal Mask

Serene

Cedric pulled out a cloth from the water basin beside them, wrung it and pressed it gently against Alaric's shoulder where the blade had grazed him. Alaric flinched but didn't pull back, his gaze fixed to a distant point.

"What was going through your mind, Alaric?" Cedric asked, his voice half-concerned, half-exasperated. "First you cut training short in the morning, then you come back swinging like you've never held a sword. What's gotten you so worked up?"

Alaric shifted uncomfortably but didn't answer right away. Cedric studied him with narrowed eyes, "You were not focusing at all. You had as much precision as a beginner."

Cedric wrapped a length of fresh bandage around his shoulder, waiting for his friend to say something. When he didn't, he tightened the bandage slightly, making Alaric wince and glare at him.

"That glare is so scary, Alaric," Cedric deadpanned, his tone dripping with mock terror. "I'm practically shivering."

Alaric sighed and muttered, "It's Caelon..."

Cedric raised an eyebrow. "He got to you? You know better than to pay attention to what he says, Al."

"It's not that, Cedric," Alaric said, "I know what he is like but I just hate how he treats her. As if he owns her! She is forced to listen to such disgraceful words. And I can do nothing about it! I am so ashamed by myself."

Cedric finished securing the bandage and said, "I get it Al. But you're putting too much weight on yourself. Tell me, why did you ask her to be your informant?"

"Because I thought she can handle it," Alaric murmured.

"Do you still think she can handle it?" Cedric questioned.

"Of course she can. I know she can..." Alaric said, "But it doesn't mean that she should."

"You are getting emotional, Alaric," Cedric said in a gentle tone, "Use your brain here. It has just been a day since Caelon has come. You have yet to know his intentions and here you are, getting yourself hurt. Beatrice hasn't complained about anything, and I doubt she will. In fact, I won't be surprised if she is planning how to kill him right now. So stop worrying about her.

"When did you become so mature," Alaric muttered, casting a sideways glance towards him.

"I was always mature. You are the one who pays no attention to what I have to say," Cedric accused, pointing his finger at him.

Alaric cracked a smile and got up, rotating his shoulders a bit before wincing, "I hope that doesn't leave a scar."

"I think that she might be down for a guy with a battle scar or two," Cedric said suggestively.

"Shut up already," Alaric replied, half-annoyed as he caught the shirt Cedric threw at him. He pulled it on, grimacing at the torn shoulder and the dried blood staining the fabric.

"I'll go take a bath," Alaric said, trying to brush off the earlier conversation. "So get out."

"Don't you think that you are sometimes too rude?" Cedric said with narrowed eyes.

"I know I am rude," Alaric admitted, walking Cedric out of the room and slamming the door on his face.

"That's what I get for dressing your wound!" Cedric called out from outside, frustrated.

Alaric leaned against the door, holding back a laughter. He could hear Cedric grumbling outside as he walked away. You can always rely on your best friend to lift your mood, he thought.

***