Chapter Three

  The knights led me down a long hallway. Candles on iron sconces hanging from the walls lit our path as we treaded over the white marbled floor toward a grand room with a lofty ceiling. My gaze was taken by the various decorations on the walls—banners, the royal coat of arms in gilded golden plaques, ancient weapons of war and various tapestries woven with golden or silver threads, depicting scenes from The Fables.

  My heart began to race and I wondered why it did. I did not feel afraid, but I was nervous. Nervous of the unknowns before me, and of what I would be asked to do.

  More importantly, in front of whom.

  We stepped out of the long hall and into a great open space that was clearly the Great Hall.

  This room was quite vast and intimidating. With a lofty ceiling and a grand chandelier hanging at the center of the room, it was accompanied by twin white marble staircases which gently curved around a raised dias. Sitting upon it were three elaborately carved wooden thrones.

  Eight white marble pillars supported the extensive ceiling, and several wooden benches presently occupied by soldiers had been pushed to the wall on either side of the room. They were likely occupied by regents of the king when a council was being held.

  At the moment, two of the thrones before me were occupied.

  On the far left throne was a middle-aged man; salt and pepper colored hair and beard framed his lean, sharp features, but his dark eyes were soft and curious. He wore a wine red tunic embroidered with gold while several gold rings encrusted with various precious gems rested on his fingers. An intricate golden crown, encrusted with sapphires and pearls, sat on his thick hair.

  A woman of simular age sat beside him, her dark blonde hair gathered elegantly behind her head and topped with a gold crown, dotted with small emeralds and pearls, that was shaped like sea coral. She wore a blue silk gown covered in intricate embroidery. Her eyes, a piercing blue, were sharp with interest.

  Butterflies gathered in my stomach. Before me was King Enrique and Queen Ashna, the rulers of Centinali. The very couple who'd convinced my father to leave our homeland of Syrina when I was a child.

  The ones he'd served loyally, and indefinitely.

  I approached them nervously. I was to prove my skills before the king and queen themselves. Not forgetting the handful of knights standing and sitting near the walls, silent and watching.

  Remain composed, you have practiced for this, I thought to myself.

  Yet I couldn't deny that this was a more intimidating setting than I predicted.

  The knights escorting me stopped before the steps of the raised dias and bowed. I copied them; curtsying deeply and lowering my head with respect. With the corner of my eye, I spotted the knight who'd escorted me, with his gold lined silver armor, standing by the wall, beside the dark-skinned knight who'd been at the gate.

  His arms were crossed, and though his helmet hid his eyes, I felt the heat of his stare.

  I wanted to laugh with irony, but the thought died as quickly as it had come. Something about his stance tickled something far and distant in my memory.

  A young boy with a shy grin. . . Standing beneath an apple tree. . .

  The knights straightened from their bows, jarring me from my stupor. I rose and focused on the king, who now had his hand to his chin thoughtfully.

  The knight with the scroll of parchment stepped up to the king with a bowed head. "Your Majesty, I present to you The Honorable Roseti Caranara of the house Semnia. She presents herself as a candidate for the Honorable Lady's Maid."

  The queen's head perked suddenly at my name. Remembrance and recollection flashing through her eyes.

  Undoubtedly, she now knew she was looking upon Sir Wilson Semnia's daughter.

  I pretended not to notice her recognition.

  The king's expression remained neutral. He nodded his acknowledgement of the knight's announcement, and the knights stepped aside, leaving me alone in full contemplation of the royals. King Enrique studied me for several moments, then spoke in a deep voice. "Very well, Miss Semnia. You are aware of the . . . unique requirements of this position, I hope?"

  I bowed my head.

  The king continued, "Then I will ask that you please answer this: on what motivation do you bring yourself to this castle on this night?"

  My father instantly flashed through my mind. But I halted my tongue and thought carefully about his question. After a pause, I said, "I am here to liberate a soul from certain doom."

  Queen Ashna regarded me curiously, her expression composed, revealing none of her true thoughts.

  King Enrique appeared intrigued by my answer. He glanced at his wife before fixing his gaze back upon me. "Is this so?"

  I bowed my head once again, and he smiled kindly. "Very well," he said. "Young lady, what is your age?"

  "Twenty years, Your Majesty."

  The king nodded. The queen straightened a little in her chair and spoke in a gentle voice. "My dear, if you were left no other choice, do you believe you would be able to take the life of a man to save another whom you cherish?"

  The answer to this question did not come readily to my mind. To my surprise, the queen waited patiently while I silently pondered.

  "I cannot be certain, Your Majesty," I finally admitted. "In the midst of danger, one acts with their heart, not their head. But I hope that I would be capable, should the time ever come."

  The queen nodded with satisfaction, but said nothing. The king then turned his gaze to the knight carrying the scroll. "Sir Watson, hand Miss Semnia your blade, if you would."

  Sir Watson handed the scroll to his companion, then drew his sword. He stepped up to me while holding it horizontally between his hands, and offered it to me with a bow. I accepted the weapon and he turned to rejoin his companion, who returned the scroll to him.

  The king fixed his gaze on me, his expression now stern and serious. "As you should know, Miss Semnia," he began, "one of the requirements of this position is knowledge on the art of the sword. Unfortunately, not many of the women this evening have been able to display good form in that regard. If you are willing, I should like to see your skills against one of my recently knighted soldiers. If you feel this is beyond your capabilities, you will be escorted back to the castle gates with good grace."

  A flutter of nerves trickled down my throat. I bowed my head. "I shall oblige, if that is Your Majesty's wish."

  The king's eyes softened with approval. He nodded to the knight beside Sir Watson. "Sir Corin, if you will?"

  Sir Corin bowed to the king, then stepped forward.

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  Thank Numen I have been sparring with a dress during practice, I thought with a small hint of awe and relief. I only prayed I would still be able to carry out my movements effectively, for this dress was snug around my shoulders. Either I would fail to defend myself, or my dress would rip around the shoulder seams.

  I was not eager for either result.

  Once Sir Corin had drawn his sword, the king looked between the both of us. "Now, Miss Semnia, due to the fact that your opponent is wearing armor and you are not, the goal of this match will be to hinder or disarm your opponent, not decapitate them."

  Gentle laughter filled the room.

  "The first individual to disarm or put his opponent at his mercy will decide the conclusion of your trial. Is this understood?" the king asked.

  "Yes, Your Majesty," I said.

  King Enrique gave a nod. "You may begin."

  Sir Corin and I studied one another. I did wonder if he'd hesitate to strike first because I was a woman, but that thought was quickly quenched. He delt me a heavy blow that I managed to deflect, though I felt my blade tremble. Our clanging swords echoed through the Great Hall as we danced too and fro.

  Half of my mind was fixed on Sir Corin's movements and my answer to them, the other half was distracted by the endeavor of not tripping over the long front of my dress.

  The distraction was almost enough to hinder my concentration, but I managed to stand my ground as we clashed and dealt blows. I was keenly aware that his skills surpassed my own, but thankfully, like me, he soon began to tire.

  Our battle came to a sudden and bizarre end when he stepped forward, catching my draping skirt under his foot before I could retreat fast enough.

  I stumbled backwards and he forwards, only causing him to trap my skirt further. In our confusion, his sword drew dangerously close to my face. With a twist of my wrist, I used my own blade to push his away, causing his arm to extend far to the side even as he continued to stumble forward. All forces combined, Sir Corin twisted awkwardly and lost his sword in mine as we both plummeted to the floor.

  Sir Corin and I looked at one another in a daze.

  The room became silent as death.

  Finally, a soldier in the corner of the room broke into a hearty laugh. Everyone followed, and soon, all I could hear was laughter.

  Heat warmed my neck and cheeks and I suddenly wished the stone floor would swallow me. Sir Corin, who sported a rosy flush on his own cheeks, struggled to his feet and offered me a hand. Once on my feet, I looked at the king and queen, who were admirably containing most of their laughter. Approval filled both their eyes.

  "Silence! Silence!" the king shouted, holding up a hand.

  The laughter died down and he looked at me. There was well-hidden surprise in his eyes. "Well done," he said sincerely. "Please, forgive my knight. He is not quite accustomed to fighting women with long skirts."

  The laughter started up again as Sir Corin and Sir Watson retrieved their swords, but it died quickly once again.

  "You've done well," the king said. "You have a determined heart and a good head. I am impressed. I wish you to remain in the castle tonight. Everything you need will be provided. Tomorrow, you shall meet the other six women whom are potential candidates. The day after tomorrow, you shall know whom will be chosen."

  My heart pounded as a swell of relief engulfed my chest. I'd succeeded. I'd passed the first trial.Perhaps I still had a chance to liberate my father.

  The queen turned to look at one of the knights standing beside the wall. "Sir Belin, will you please lead Miss Semnia to one of the guest chambers?"

  As soon as the name left the queen's lips, my heart stopped cold. My eyes searched, almost frantically, among the knights with wide-eyed realization.

  That distant memory crashed through my mind. A young boy with unruly blonde hair and a shy twinkle in his hazel eyes. We were standing under an ancient apple tree, surrounded by lush greenery on one side, and the expansive ocean on the other. We were eating apples, laughing at simple things.

  Until the plague came. The Charcoal Death.

  But I'd never forgotten his name.

  Telesis Belin.

  My previous escort, the knight with gold edged armor, stepped away from the wall and bowed to the queen. "As Your Majesty wishes," he said in his gentle voice.

  At his mention of the queen, I recalled where I was. I tore my gaze from him to make a distracted curtsy to the queen and king. "Thank you," I said.

  They bowed their heads and the queen gestured me to follow Sir Belin. He led me through a wooden door behind the thrones and into a hall that was still majestic, but devoid of much of the splendor the Great Hall possessed.

  I watched Sir Belin carefully as he led me down the hall. His walk. His demeanor. All of it made me surprised that I hadn't seen the signs sooner.

  Everything fit, but I had to be certain.

  "May I ask where you are from?" I asked with a tone of mild curiosity, though that deeply underexaggerated.

  He glanced around at me. "Syrina, but my family moved to Centinali when I was a boy."

  Another piece matched.

  "I see," I continued conversationally. "I am originally from Syrina as well. It is a beautiful place."

  Sir Belin grunted his agreement.

  "What are you called?" I asked, finally getting to the question I yearned to know.

  This time, he didn't answer straight away. But finally, he said, "Telesis."

  I stopped walking, causing him to halt as well. I struggled to find my tongue as he turned to face me.

  Was it possible that there were two men called Telesis Belin? For all my doubts, something in my chest told me that this was the same boy I'd known eleven years ago.

  He stared back at me, blankly, and it irritated me.

  If I recognized him, then it was more than likely he had recognized me long before the thought even crossed my mind. The childhood friend I'd had in Syrina knew me better than I knew myself.

  My eyes dropped down to his sword. The sight of it quenched the last of my doubt. It was the very sword I'd seen in his parents' house all those years ago—his father's sword.

  I opened my mouth, then hesitated. "Do you recognize me?" I asked softly, uncertainly.

  He bowed his head and failed in his attempt to suppress a small laugh. "Of course, my lady. There is little possibility that there could be another woman with so much determination and such a streak of rebellion within her. There is only one individual like that that I know of."

  The moment those words were spoken, I knew without a doubt that it was my childhood friend. My heart leapt with shock and joy and before I could think, I was embracing him. It was an uncomfortable embrace because of his armor. Not to mention he stood nearly a head taller than me.

  But I cared naught for that. I was too glad to see him again.

  He placed a gauntleted hand over my back and laughed. "It has been some time, hasn't it?"

  I pulled away, shaking my head with disbelief even as a smile filled my face. "I can hardly believe it! Why didn't you say anything? You knew, didn't you? The moment you asked my destination, you knew who I was!"

  I could imagine the boyish grin under his helmet.

  "I cannot deny that," he admitted. "You did very nearly make me forget why I was even going to the castle in the first place. I didn't say anything to you because I had a hunch about why you were going to the castle. I didn't want to be the cause of your head not being where it should when you needed it."

  I understood, so I didn't argue. I let out a breathless sigh. "Oh, Numen. It has been so long!" My voice lowered now, and it was hinted by sorrow. "You caught that plague before I left Syrina and I wasn't certain I'd ever see you again."

  Telesis fell silent.

  When I looked up, he was still as a stone. "What's wrong?" I asked.

  Suddenly, he turned away. "Nothing," he said flatly. "Come. I should've been back already." He began walking again and I followed him, wondering what I had said that made him suddenly reserved.

  We walked in silence for a few strides, then Telesis spoke again. "How did you even discover that the king was searching for a swordswoman? I never knew you could use a sword."

  I looked down at the stone floor. "It is. . . It is a rather long story. One I shall tell you later, for you have some to tell me as well." I looked up at him now. "Such as how you came from a wealthy peasant status to now be working for the king of Centinali himself."

  Telesis chuckled, but it was humorless. "That will be for another time."

  He stopped beside a large wooden door and opened it, gesturing for me to look in. I peeked inside. It was a modest room with white plastered walls and various floral patterns painted in golds, greens and browns. A large bed with brown silk drapes stood in one corner while a stone tub, a couple dressers and a few small tables filled the rest of the room.

  "If you wish," Telesis said, "I can ask one of the maids to draw a bath for you and bring an extra set of clothes."

  I looked at him with a shake of the head. "Oh, no, thank you. I think I will retire straight away. I'm quite tired."

  He nodded with understanding. "Anything I can bring you?"

  I shook my head.

  "Very well," Telesis said. "I shall leave you, then. Good night."

  He turned to walk back down the hall but I called after him. He stopped and half turned to look at me.

  "When will I see you again?" I asked.

  "Tomorrow morning, I assume, though it is not likely we'll be able to hold a conversation." He paused. "After that . . . I'm not certain." He bowed, which felt strange now that I knew who he was, but I sensed humor in the act. "Goodnight, Rose," he said.

  He turned and began walking down the hall once again.

  "Good night, Telesis," I called after him.

  He chuckled and waved to me over his shoulder.

  I watched him stride away, then pulled back into the room and closed the door. I leaned against it, smiling to myself. I thought of the name he'd called me by; a name I never thought I'd hear from his lips ever again.

  Rose.