Of A King's Knight and Tears

Of A King's Knight

My adorable little child,

You are so strong yet so weak,

As I am so thankful yet not.

You have saved me,

Yet you hurt me.

How is it that you wait to die?

Why is it that you make me suffer through losing you?

Why is it that that is my fate and that that is yours?

"May I ask why we are to make our way to the tailor and dressmaker's shop?" A soft giggle came from the King as she led the way towards the boutique, for her knight beside her was unsure of where it was located. They had been assigned to the task of meeting Queen Likenia, Alodine, Jeanne, and some of the other warriors there at the opening of midday. Diarmuid was confused as to why the two would be told to report to such a place. The blonde's feet slowed, allowing the raven-haired guardian to walk beside her. Once he did so, she aimed emeralds at his amber with a slight crescent of the lips.

"It is because Queen Likenia thought it best if we get new formal-wear for your ceremony. It is such a rare and important event after all. It normally only happens once per reign. In fact, most times it takes about thirty years until another retainer is chosen," the beautiful ruler responded as they exited the large doors of the castle and continued to the center of Camelot where the shop was at. "Well, here we are," she announced as she walked into the rather large building. Diarmuid followed her inside, closing the door behind him. His eyes grew once he caught a sight of the beautiful interior. Gold decorations were placed and hung all around with a gorgeous design on the walls. The tiled floor was pure white, incredible as if the color was a reflection of the hue of an angel's wings. "Beautiful, is it not? The tailor and dressmaker who own this are the most renowned and skilled sewers in Britain." Her guardian looked toward her.

"I would bet if their shop is this large and beautiful. The flooring alone tells me that they have made quite the name for themselves," he replied, still taken aback by the amazing sight. Arturia chuckled before turning her head toward the sudden voice of Jeanne that had erupted from out of nowhere. Diarmuid greeted the petite French woman before watching her take the hand of his liege and nearly dragging her toward the magnificent gowns hanging from the racks.

"Overwhelming, don't you think, Dia?" The Irishman turned his head toward his elder brother's tone. "You know, even after all the years I've been a warrior and dancer, I've never seen a boutique as astounding as this one. Even Uncle Fergus' personal tailor's shop wasn't as incredible as this one," the blue-haired warrior commented, looking around before once again shooting his red glare at his sibling. Diarmuid looked at him for a moment before giving him a grin and a nod. Abruptly, a pretty, young woman skipped towards the taller male, looking extremely excited. "Oh? You already have an outfit picked out for me, lass?"

"Haha, an outfit is an understatement, dear. I have like ten of them for you in your dressing room. I just got so carried away with picking them out that I didn't realize how many I actually ended up with," the woman (who Diarmuid guessed was the seamstress) giggled happily before turning her attention to the newly-announced retainer. "Ah, you must be Diarmuid, correct?" The young man bobbed his head. "Wonderful, I am Courtney, the head dressmaker here. It is an honor to meet you and might I say congratulations on your victory. I can see a bright future ahead of you."

"Thank you," Diarmuid bowed his head in reply to the dressmaker's own curtsy. "It is lovely to meet you as well." The young lady gave a bright smile. "May I ask what I should be doing?" She seemed to jump at the realization of not telling him what to do.