The Lady Knight

I pulled on Aurora's reins weakly, as the huge, grey building of soft stone loomed over the both of us in the winter night. The streets were only slightly lit by lanterns, and yet, the faint light from them was enough to cast several shadows around me eerily.

However, I could not care less about the dangers that lurked in every corner of my journey. I was hungry, I was exhausted, I was hurting all over, and I absolutely could not bear to sit on Aurora any longer.

It was still a source of wonder and mystery to me as to why she had not thrown me off her saddle yet, because I truly felt like doing so myself.

"Who is there?" the guards at the gate cried out to me, "in the name of Her Grace the Duchess Estelle of Vareniol, identify yourself!"

I smiled faintly. It had slipped my mind that Estelle had become Duchess, now that Lord Pierre was dead. It had been too long since I had last seen her. I wondered how she was faring.

"Hold your peace, guards," I called out as I rode towards the guards, hating how my voice sounded weak and cracked, "I am Commander General Van Helsing of the Monriquan Armed Forces. Her Grace is expecting me for the Potential Quest, if I am not wrong."

I gestured to the sword by my waist for proof, unable to speak much more.

Each and every sword belonging to an army officer in the Army could be traced back to them, as it was made for them and them alone based on their ranks. As I was a Commander General, there was only one sword like mine in the country and was easily identified.

Realising I was injured, they approached me, and removed my sword from its sheath to scrutinise it. When they were satisfied, they then proceeded to stare at my features to identify me. It would have been amusing once upon a time to watch their expressions turn deathly pale in synchronisation, if not for the fact that I was extremely irritable at the present.

"Ma'am...mayhap you should visit a physician at once. There is a physician who lives a mile or so down the path," one of them dared to blanch at me, his eyes travelling over each and every one of my burns on my extremities.

I felt extremely uncomfortable by their stares. "I am fine," I snapped in exhaustion, knowing that I sounded false to my own ears, "allow me to enter, if you please."

They nodded, frowning in worry, as they swung open the gates to allow Aurora to canter her way into the Vareniol Manor grounds. I turned the familiar arc in front of the huge Manor and proceeded straight for the stables. Good memories of this duchy returned to my mind, as my tired eyes travelled over the snow-covered grounds.

Estelle and I used to make snow angels in the porch during winters when we were younger, much to the amusement of her parents. We also used to play hide and seek about these very grounds with Elisabeth. Naturally, Estelle had been the seeker, and Elisabeth and I had been the ones to hide.

She had been the only player thus far whom I have always lost to. She found me every time by merely listening for slight movements, for breathing. Her sense of hearing was unrivalled, and I had pestered her many a time to join the Army. She would be a great asset in weeding out criminals in hiding.

It would be wonderful to see her again. With that thought, I rode into the stables.

To my surprise, the stables were already lit by several candles. Among the many horses present, a young man was crouched with his back facing me, tending to a particular stallion with a dark brown mane that resembled the hue of his own hair.

His exceptionally broad shoulders blocked most of the stallion from view, but I was able to hear him speaking to it in deep, soft, gentle tones, running his pale hands through its mane once in a while.

Still, I recognised the stallion. I could recognise it anywhere, as well as I could Aurora.

It was Noir.

And I knew who the man was even before he turned around to face me upon hearing the sound of Aurora's hooves, even before I had identified Noir.

His huge, grey eyes regarded me with some surprise, as he stood up beside Noir. I vaguely remembered dismounting at this particular moment, keeping a firm, painful hold on Aurora's reins with my blistering hands. I felt his gaze slowly travel up and down my form, his eyes widening even further in horror with what he saw.

Face darkened with soot. Red eyes. Charred cheek. A singed, black and white dress that was torn around the edges. Burns on the shoulder blades and the arms. Reddened, scalded hands.

Neither of us said anything for a long while. A joy of a strange sort flooded me at seeing him again, and that gaping sensation that had been troubling me since the day I had left Cavarriere faded away into nothing, leaving behind a warmth that I could only describe as comforting.

It was him I had been missing all along, I realised. Not my Captains.

For him, on the other hand, was a whole different story. Shock and horror was written on every inch of his face, and he seemed to be struggling to get words out of his mouth.

"Julie..." was all he managed.

A weak smile was all I managed, before the whole world spun before my eyes. I faintly recalled him sprinting towards me in alarm, with his arms held out to catch me, before everything became black.

***

"Commander General Ma'am? Can you hear me?" a voice pestered insistently beside me, "Ma'am? Ma'am!"

I groaned, as my head pounded with startling ferocity. I slowly forced open my eyes, and let my vision focus on a queer-looking bespectacled old man leaning over me, whose breath reeked of garlic and onions.

"Cease your yapping, by God," I snapped weakly, scowling, "I can hear you perfectly well."

A pop of laughter sounded beside me. "She is definitely all right, physician Sir," an amused voice remarked.

I turned my head slightly at that, to find Estelle sitting on a chair next to my bed, cradling my right hand, which had apparently been bandaged tightly with white linen. A brief glance to my left hand told me that it had met the same fate.

And I did not need a looking glass to tell me that there was a linen with some strange, cool substance pressed against the charred skin on my cheek.

"Well, my Lady," the bespectacled man, whom I supposed was the physician, stood upright and reached for his briefcase, "I would strongly recommend a stable diet and lots of rest. The reason why you fainted was not due to the burns, but due to your lack of food intake and sleep. Eat well, my Lady, and make sure to sleep more than usual for the next few days at the very least."

"What about the burns, physician Sir? The Crown Prince told me she had burns," Estelle queried, sounding strained, "will she recover?"

"You will have to continue to apply this salve on her burns once every day, Your Grace," he held up a bottle of pale grey substance on the bedside table, "and change the linens once every day, as well. She will recover, of course, but the scars from the burns, especially those on her cheek...they will never leave. I hope you know that."

I turned away from him, nodding. I did not care a whit about my appearance, but the fact that everyone would be able to see the scars on my face and would forever question me on what went wrong with it, was a daunting prospect.

"Thank you, Physician Sir," Estelle smiled weakly, "would you like me to escort you down to the front gates?" She reached for her cane, but he stopped her.

"It is all right, Your Grace, I have been here several times," he glanced at her gently, "I will go down myself, thank you. My best wishes for your speedy recovery, Ma'am. You may send for me again if anything goes wrong." He then gazed at me with the same expression.

I tried to conjure up a smile for him. "Thank you for everything, Physician Sir."

He nodded, and left the room, closing the door behind him. Estelle drew her chair closer to the huge bed I was lying on.

"When I imagined meeting you after seven years, this was definitely not what I had in mind," was her sardonic comment, "care to explain why His Royal Highness had to carry you, burnt and unconscious, from the stables?" Her expression was severe.

I should think that if she could truly see me now, she would have subjected me to a round of vigorous scolding.

But her words reminded me of something else. "Where is Nick?"

A shadow crossed her face, but it vanished quickly, replaced by a queer curiosity. "I asked you first, Jules. Answer me, and then I will answer you."

I huffed. "All right. I have burns because I escaped a fire. And I fainted because I have not eaten anything since...what day is it today?" I frowned at her.

Her shoulders tensed slightly. "It is Wednesday afternoon, Jules. You have been unconscious for almost a whole day. Everyone has been so worried."

"Wednesday afternoon..." I mused, "and I have not eaten anything since Monday morning at the market...shoot. I have been inane."

"Inane indeed!" Estelle flared up, shocked, "how could you not eat for two whole days? What were you thinking, Jules? What was it that was so important that it took precedence over your well-being?"

Her last words vaguely rang a dim bell in my mind. Where had I heard them before?

At once, the answer came to me. They were the same words Nick had uttered to me in Cavarriere, when I had been searching for the code Lucien had left for me.

"Yes, it was that important. Someone could have lost their life. Remaining hungry for a few days means nothing compared to that," I answered shortly, sighing, "where are Nick and the rest, Estelle?"

That same shadow crossed her face again. "Mama and Elisabeth are working on dinner in the kitchens," she muttered evasively, "and your Captains are on duty around the Castle, as usual."

A sense of foreboding crept up my spine. Why was she avoiding my main question?

"Estelle," I fixed my gaze on her intently, "Nick. Where is Nick?"

Did something happen while I was unconscious? I mentally slapped myself. Of course something must have happened, and it was all my fault. What was it this time?

Mayhap she felt my hand tremble, for she hurried to answer me. "His Royal Highness is perfectly well, Jules."

"Then? Where is he? I am not that hideous, am I?" I tried to jest, but it came out bewildered.

The same, queer curious expression formed on her face again, but when she spoke next, her voice was extremely sad.

"He does not want to see you."

***

"Jules?" a voice spoke from outside the door, knocking.

I glanced up from my storybook, startled to find the Sun already disappearing below the horizon from my window. By the Lord, for how long was I immersed in this book? Being confined to bed had its advantages, but losing track of time was not one of them.

"Come in!"

Estelle came inside, beaming widely. "Someone is here to see you."

I closed the book on my lap none too gently. "I am not in the mood, Estelle," I grumbled, "whoever it is, ask them to leave and never come back."

Indeed, I was angry, quite irrationally might I add, that Nick had still not come to see me.

"Even if it is me?" a deep voice spoke wryly from the doorway, "that is indeed disappointing, Julie. Should I go away?"

My head snapped towards the door once more, shocked for a brief moment to see my brother leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

He eyed me in amusement, although from the way his eyes darkened at the sight of my injuries, I knew I was going to be interrogated very thoroughly indeed later.

Estelle beamed again in triumph, before she skipped out of the room in a haphazard manner, shutting the door behind her.

In the meanwhile, a huge grin began to spread across my face despite the stiff linen on my cheek. "Brother-mine!" I could hardly believe my eyes, "how in the whole, entire world - "

He laughed at my expression, striding forward before sitting at the edge of my bed. I held out a hand for a handshake, but he surprised me by wrapping his arms around me.

I stiffened for a moment, before I relaxed into his hold. "I have missed you so."

"So have I," he leaned his cheek against my head, "look, I have even brought you a present." He held up a bulging sack, filled with boxes of what looked like Marzipan, and a number of arrows.

I smiled, gesturing him to put it down beside my bed since I could not hold it. "Thank you, Brother-mine. I am running low on arrows after the mission."

He obeyed, concerned now. "By the Lord, what happened to you?"

Ah, the question I knew I would be facing more often in the coming days. "I went on a mission," I mumbled, "and I was injured. End of story." I did not wish to say too much about it.

He understood. "Was your mission successful?"

I smiled faintly, nodding. "Aye, it was."

"That is good, at least, though I am not certain if it was worth all your pain," he huffed, "good grief, I almost had a panic attack when the Crown Prince told me you were unconscious and severely burnt, and he all but dragged me from Cavarriere - "

"Nick?" I cut him off, surprised, "Nick brought you here?"

He nodded, fingering the linen bandaging my hand. "Papa and I had been in Cavarriere to meet Lord Jasper, and discuss some discrepancies in his recent reports," he answered, shrugging, "the Crown Prince hunted me down, and told me what happened to you, insisting that I come and see you. It did not take much convincing for me to ride down to Vareniol with him. I was sick with worry for you, wondering what you have done to yourself this time. He seemed extremely worried for you as well." He was curious in the end.

I was stunned. Nick would ride down to Cavarriere, speak to my brother who had intimidated him for almost his entire life in and out of Monrique, but he would not see me?

This was ridiculous.

"That is...well," I was at a loss of words, "I do not know what to say."

"I take it that you did not know that I was coming to visit you?" he guessed, smiling faintly, "at least you look better than I had feared. The Physician assured me you will be perfectly fine soon enough."

I shook my head. "I truly did not know. But I am glad you are here, Brother-mine. Thank you so much for coming," I grinned, before an idea occurred to me, "do you need to return to Cavarriere, or can you stay here for a few days?" I was hopeful.

His smile faded. "I would love to, and I wish I could," he answered sadly, "but I cannot. Papa is expecting me in Cavarriere. I need to leave tonight so that I can reach Cavarriere by dawn. I am sorry, Julie." His arms tightened around me.

I grew cold. "Papa knew what happened?" I hardly recognised my voice now, "and he did not come? He did not ask after my welfare?"

His silence was a clear answer.

"I thought so," I murmured painfully.

I told myself to stop caring. I told myself to stop hoping that my father would consider me his daughter someday. But I still became a mess every time.

The way Max was looking at me now almost seemed as if he could see the broken pieces left of me, left of the little girl who adored her father.

"You know how he is like," he mumbled roughly, "stop bothering with him. Stop caring about what he thinks. If he cannot see how fortunate he is to still have you alive, then he is not worth it."

It was my turn to be silent now.

"Julie," he began again softly, "by the Lord, why do you allow yourself to be hurt by him like this every time? I care about you, and I love you. Is that not enough?" He held me together before I could fall apart.

I squeezed my eyes shut, leaning against his chest once more. "I love you too," I whispered, "and I wish it could be enough. But I do not know why..." I shook my head and fell silent.

It did not take me long to realise why. It was because, despite his silence, despite all that had been said and done, I still loved my father as well.

And always will.

***

"Aye, Ma'am. Slowly, slowly...yes! You did it, Ma'am!" Captain Dupont clapped his hands in a loud round of applause, followed by the other Captains around him, who were amused by his enthusiastic encouragements.

I set down the mug, exasperated. "'Tis only a mug, Captain Dupont," I huffed, "by the Lord, I cannot even lift my own sword. What is a mug in comparison?"

"It is still an achievement, Ma'am," Captain Everard shrugged, smiling weakly, "be happy."

Estelle had decided this morning that my scalded hands felt much better, and that the linen bandages were no longer needed.

Since then, Captain Dupont had taken upon himself to teach me to move my fingers and hands again, lifting small things with them one at a time. We had first started with lifting quills, and then parchment, small books, and finally, mugs.

My hands were still quite a mess, but at least the pain was starting to fade away. I was confident that I could lift my sword and other normal things by tomorrow, but God, the wait was agonisingly slow.

In the meanwhile, Nick had not come to see me at all when I was in bed, even after Max had taken his leave. Neither had he spoken to me or even acknowledged me in the hallways since I had been allowed out of bed yesterday.

It was almost as if I did not exist. Whenever I tried to approach him, he would mysteriously have something else he had to do, or would walk past me as if he had not seen me.

Even during mealtimes, when I asked him a question, he would ask me to pass him the salt bottle instead and pretend that I had not spoken at all.

He could not have put forth his message any clearer. I had known he would be angry over the fact that I had left without telling him, but not this angry. I would rather he yelled at me, than give me the cold shoulder this way.

It was genuinely irritating, annoying, infuriating - and hurtful. I was surprisingly dismayed at his queer behaviour towards me, especially so after I had come to consider him as a friend.

This should not bother me so much, and yet it did.

This was why I should never have been so civil to him. Hell, I should not even have suggested the truce for Lisa's sake. It would always come down to this - me being hurt because of him. Had this not been the routine for almost all of our lives?

What had made me think this time round would be any different?

I shook my head. It was time I picked myself up and stop beating myself up over this. He may be the Crown Prince and a horrible friend, but I was still a Lady Knight, with a sense of duty and honour.

My job was to merely protect him and suggest the best candidate for the Crown Princess Consort position.

"I suppose it is," I sighed now, smiling at Captain Dupont, "thank you, Captain Dupont, for conducting the lesson with such patience and endurance on your part, despite my mood swings."

The Captains all laughed out loud in amusement, as Captain Dupont's eyes twinkled. "It is no problem, Ma'am," he beamed, before, "although, if you ever decide to burn your hands again, please inform me so that I know when to apply for leave from the Army."

I chuckled but said nothing. The Captains have been surprisingly calm about my return from the mission. They did not ask me a single question about what had happened, or where I had gone. Instead, they simply devised ways to help me recover and make me feel better, knowing that I would tell them all that they needed to know in my own time.

I appreciated that very much, more than they would ever know.

"Jules? Jules!" a voice called out behind me just then. I turned behind to see Elisabeth leading Estelle by the hand towards us, holding a huge stack of what looked like wet blankets.

"Yes, Elisabeth? Estelle? What is the matter?"

"You have to help me," Estelle cried, hurrying towards me, "Mama demanded that I put these blankets out to dry, but Elisabeth and I have to head down to Hertford at once on an important matter. Tax issues. Nasty business. Will you put these out to dry for me?"

I eyed them - they looked heavier than my sword even. How would I lift them?

Estelle seemed to sense my hesitation, for she hurried to reassure me. "You need not use your hands to carry them," she loosely crossed my arms, and placed the stack of blankets such that I was cradling them, "thank you so much! We have to dash now." With a quick smile, she and her silent friend had sprinted off.

I glanced down at the wet blankets, puzzled, and then up at the Captains who were chuckling with amusement. "What was that all about?" I was bewildered, "she suddenly came, and just as quickly, she vanished."

"You had better put those out to dry now, Ma'am. I would not cross the Dowager Duchess if I were you," Captain Dupont grinned, "we can continue our lesson later."

I nodded, and headed down the stairs and out the back door, where the clothes line was hung from one tree to the next in a continuous series. Several clothes had already been hung on the lines to dry, and thus, I strode along the trees, searching for an empty stretch of clothes line.

When I had finally found such a stretch, I noticed someone leaning against the tree the clothes line was attached to, with their back facing me, clearly waiting for someone.

I knew who it was at once - and by the Lord, I was not happy.

"What are you doing here?" I snarled, my arms tightening around the wet blankets in anger.

He turned around, startled for a moment, before his face became expressionless. He merely turned away, and went back to leaning against the tree trunk, as if I had not spoken in the first place.

That was it. I hated being dismissed. Setting down the blankets on the ground, I strode towards him and hauled him around to face me by the collar, feeling rage fill me with an intensity that surprised even me.

"I believe I asked you a question," I growled, clenching my fists until they hurt, "and I do believe I am being rational when I say I expect an answer."

"I do not see how it is any of your concern where I am or what I do!" he snapped back.

"I might ask you the same!" I retorted, "I do not see how it is any of your concern where I am or what I do! I am a Knight, and I do have other duties apart from being your Potential Quest Advisor!"

He scowled, his lips pressed into a firm line. "I am not angry because you left without telling me," the words seemed to tumble out of him before he could stop, "I am angry because you were idiotic enough to put yourself in such danger - enough to get severely burnt, enough to work yourself to exhaustion, enough to starve yourself for two whole days!"

I blinked at him for a moment, startled by his answer. "I - "

"Have you any idea how worried you had me for the last one week? I did not even know whether you were alive, whether you even made it to where you were supposed to go," he grabbed my shoulders and shook me hard, "throughout the entire week, I could not fully concentrate on what Lady Estelle was saying, and I could not even listen properly to the Vareniol people. I almost lost my mind worrying over you, but Lady Estelle asked me to keep faith in your abilities and trust you to keep yourself safe. It was difficult for me, but I did."

I sighed quietly. It was exactly like Estelle to say something like that. I tried to speak again, but he had not finished.

"And then you appear in front of me all of a sudden, looking as if someone had thrown you into the fire and roasted you alive," his voice was haunted, "almost at once, every one of my worst fears for you seemed to come true right before my eyes. Do you know how terrified I was for you? Forget about me, do you have any care for yourself in the first place, woman?" He was yelling now, filled with a different kind of rage from mine.

I froze, astonished at his outburst. I opened my mouth to argue, but no words came out. For once, I was utterly and completely speechless.

"Well?" he huffed, still incensed, "you still have nothing to say for yourself?"

The question that was nagging me at the back of my mind shot straight out of my mouth. "Why? Why do you care so much?" I blurted in a whisper, "you have no need to."

Upon hearing that, his grip on my shoulder slackened, as his eyes widened. Confusion swirled in them. It was a long while before he answered.

"I know not why, but I do," he sighed, "I do care."

***