Lies Dressed In Lace

Not Looking For A Knight

Chapter 1 Not Looking For A Knight

Too excited for my own good I wiggle in my seat earning glares from my mother beside me.

I sit next to her on hard wooden chairs on a raised platform above the tournament arena draped with fine silks as she requested. My sister Annika sits on my other side, our father between our mother and younger twin sisters, Alexa and Delilah. We aren't gathered for a normal tournament that father loves, almost as much as mother loves balls, we're watching a competition to decide who will be our best, youngest, knights second. This knight, Valtok, has become our best knight 3 short years ago when he came to us at a tournament which ended in him saving my fathers life. So my father is holding this competition open to anyone to see who can beat him in combat to become his second, no rules. We hold it every week, very rarely am I allowed to watch from here, usually I have to watch from my bedchambers.

Ever since I was a child I wanted to be a knight, but because I am the Princess I have to be locked away in the tower and told to get away from the window, stop stealing the wooden swords. Mother yells at me often. Although father doesn't mind especially because he has never had a true son, I want to be one, I think thats why he dots on me so. My sisters were the princesses my mother wanted but I liked that the knights didn't need to be saved from the dragon, they were the ones fighting it. I told my mother this, she was bedridden for weeks then if I ever mentioned it again she would suddenly have a headache that would force her to avoid me for days. I assume she wants the best but she doesn't understand that the best for me isn't marrying a knight it's becoming one.

"You are far too excited to be here dear, sit still." Mother whispers to me. I try to but I cant keep in my excitement for long and my restless leg begins to bounce. "I will send you back to your chambers." She threatens through her teeth with a smile on her face as the Knights, thieves, and assassins come out into the circle of wooden benches that hold the nobles and commoners together who are here to see the fights. I sit up straight holding myself together, she nods approvingly. Valtok stands in front of us wearing only thin leather armor and a smug smile on his handsome face.

"Who shall be first?" He yells so they hear him, a large scarred and tattooed man steps forward, he's a beast of a man with shaggy dark hair and a rough scar across his strong jaw, even though the scar he's surprisingly handsome. From the tattoos I can tell he was once held as a prisoner in Kwaylar mines, the large black lines snaking around his thick biceps seem to move along his tan skin, shimmering in the light enticing me to look at them longer trying to guess the shape. Thick scars cut into the lines braking them up, littering his arms. A big knotted tattoo sits high on his shoulder, he's pretending he is a warrior from a ruthless army of fae, the last fae, in the woods, but none of those warriors would step foot into my fathers castle let alone bare such a disgraceful tattoo of who they are.

"That would be me." He says, his deep, rough voice grates against my skin.

"And who are you?" My father asks leaning forward to inspect him.

"I am Tol, your majesty." He calls back respectfully with a slight bow. It surprises me a man of his intimidation would bother with such niceties. My father nods leaning back signaling for the fight to begin. Tol selects a broad sword so Valtok picks one up as well respecting his choice. They don't waste time clashing swords almost instantly, starting the fight. I've always found it fascinating how they fight, the perfect placement of their feet, where they're going to step, how they're going to lunge, the perfect place to, the blocking, the guessing, the fighting back, and most importantly how to wield the sword as if its part of themselves. Although Tol is sloppy and his swings are too large leaving him open far too often for him to win, the fight continues. I know Valtok is playing with him now because he's enjoying it too much, he laughs when Tol missteps . The fight continues with the sound of steel on steel, scraping, smashing, and the sounds of the men grunting with the force of the fight. Tol swings his sword angrily going for Valtok's neck but he ducks making Tol stager trying to regain his footing behind Valtok. Once he does he turns running at Valtok's back as he waves to the crowd, Tol runs with a bellowing battle cry heaving the sword over his head to bring to down on Valtok's, he simply sidesteps bringing his elbow up into Tol's face, the sickening crunch of bone and a spurt of blood makes a woman in the crowd faint. Surprisingly Tol smiles, his teeth covered in the blood dripping from his nose making his smile gruesome but the fight continues, Valtok gets bored quickly, with a sharp twist he spins the large man, he rests the sharp tip of his sword on Tol's neck effectively ending the fight. Most people clap, including my father and twin sisters, although mother looks on disdainfully, I control myself enough to sit still instead of volunteering to be next, giving my mother a heart attack.

Another man steps up, I don't catch his name, he's scrawnier then the rest and chooses a dagger indicating he's a thief and judging by his dirty clothes not a very good one. They fight surprisingly brutally mostly grappling in the dirt. Valtok slams the man's hand holding the dagger into the ground till he releases it then punches him in the face till his nose is bloody, he stops trying to protect himself. Another round of claps then another large man steps up not offering a name or taking any weapons instead choosing hand to hand combat.

They circle each other with their fists raised near their faces for protection then suddenly they run at each other both of them with a raised fist going for the others face. The impact of skin against skin causes my sisters to cringe but I lean forward to see each and every thrown punch and impact to learn how to beat him, Valtok, so I can be his second, so I can finally be a knight. I mean the rules say nothing about a princess trying. The fights continue each man chooses a different weapon each of them are disarmed and beaten embarrassingly so, I almost feel intimidated.

Later that night I sneak out to the training yard then from there into a back storage room where old or broken training weapons are put, I grab a wooden training sword and set up my dummy. I start singing a lullaby my mother use to sing when she could still look at me hoping to fall into a pattern to memorize and build muscle as I swing at the flour and wood dummy, sliding my foot back more I dip as if it's swinging its own sword back at me then spin away pulling my sword in close to my chest then flinging it out so the fake point is at its fake heart when I stop. Someone starts clapping behind me I turn with my sword raised as if expecting another to come down on me. Valtok stands at the door weaponless.

"That was good although the only part I wasn't expecting was the spin at the end, you really shouldn't fall into such a memorized pattern like that, it makes you predictable, although you are a good singer that might help confuse your wooden opponent there." He points amused at said dummy I roll my eyes lowering the sword so the point rests on the ground no longer in a fighting stance and ready to take him on.

"I'm sorry did I ask for your advise?" I snap my fight making me bold.

"I assumed you'd want it, you know so you can beat me." I stand a little straighter, "You really think I can't see you up in your tower watching the knights, how excited you are to watch the competition each week? Honestly princess how oblivious do you think I am to your obvious needs?" He flirts taking a step forward looking me over.

"How stupid do you think I am to let you help me with my needs, honestly assassin how oblivious do you think I am?" He laughs at my quick remark.

"My apologies, I just thought I could help you because from what I just saw I would rather have you as my second then any giant oaf of a knight out there, so tell me princess how badly do you want to beat me." My fingers still wrapped around the hilt of the sword aches to draw blood.

"Why don't you come closer, I'll show you how easily I could do it right now." I raise my sword again beckon him with an outstretched hand.

"Will you be singing this time?" He asks mockingly picking up picks up another, weaker, wooden training sword raising it much like I do.

"Shut up before I knock that pretty smile off your face." I growl and his smile widens.

"So, you think my smile is pretty?"