The Lady Knight

I could not believe it. The demons were bringing me to Red Fort.

I had regained consciousness a few hours ago, only to find myself on a horse, strapped to a plump, stinking, perspiring man riding the stallion I was perched on, side-saddle.

I wanted to snort.

However, I controlled myself from doing so, for I did not want any of them to discover that I was awake. One dose of that nauseating herb was more than sufficient. I hated the stench that came along with it, in addition to the intense migraine and the fuzziness that it caused in my head when I woke up.

The Red Fort was a dismal end to a two-day journey. An old, ruined Castle made of red sandstone, it was situated in the deep in the large tract of woods that bordered Bordeux and Louvre. Old legends state that there used to be a duchy between Bordeux and Louvre, and the Red Fort was the Manor that had once belonged to the Lord of that duchy and his family. It was burned down during war ages ago.

At the moment, it was a long-forgotten heap of ruins – ruins that were currently guarded by guards in blood red and orange uniforms.

Red and orange were the colours of Vantauge.

When I neared the ruins, in full speed and full view of the mixture of Monriquan and Vantaugian guards surrounding the place, I could see all their weapons being held up in defence against me, the intruder. There was no way I could fight with them and escape alive. There were easily about fifty, heavily armed guards surrounding the outer perimeter of Red Fort alone. No doubt there were many more inside, simply waiting to shred me into pieces on sight.

"Declare yourself!" came a cold voice from among them.

I knew not who had spoken. They all stood unnaturally still and expressionless, their shoulders stiff, their heads high.

"I am Hugh," the man holding me cried, "and I have the Lady Knight - defeated." I could almost hear him smirk, as his companion jeered in victory.

He dug his fingers painfully into my ribs, no doubt trying to wake me up.

I pretended to be sluggish in my movements as I opened my eyes a little wider. Hugh untied the rope that tied me to him and pushed me down from the stallion none too gently. I sat up, hurting and indignant.

More snickers to humiliate me.

Seeing my pathetic state, the weapons were lowered at once. A few of them stepped forward and proceeded to remove my sword from my waist to check my identity without my permission, and began to feel my entire body with their hands, no doubt to check for hidden weapons on my person apart from the sword.

I slapped their hands away, disgusted.

"I presume your orders were to check me for weapons, not violate me in the process," I snapped at them, my cheeks turning pink, "I assure you, I am not hiding any weapons inside my uniform. I only have my sword."

They still remained expressionless. "We are only doing our duty," they chorused, and kept my sword for themselves, "you may now enter." They nodded at the men on the stallion.

I was grabbed by my collar and heaved onto Hugh's stallion once more.

The guards by the gate stepped aside in sync as the rusted gates of Red Fort swung open. Hugh spurred his horse into a canter, and we both trotted into the grounds of Red Fort, as a feeling of intense dread and foreboding washed upon me while I took in my eerily quiet surroundings.

Hugh pushed me down from the stallion again once we reached the grounds, and tied his stallion to the trees yonder. He then strode towards the entrance to this Fort, dragging me by the hand. Even here, there was a battalion of guards standing within, all their empty eyes trained on me to ensure I did not attempt any mischief.

Truly, I could not comprehend why they expected me to attempt anything at all after they had shoved those nauseating herbs up my nose to numb my limbs and confiscated my weapons.

Another guard strode towards me before I could reach the entrance. "The Lady Knight?" he boomed, looming over me.

He seemed rather cross, thus, I decided to call him Master Cross in my mind.

"Aye."

"Please follow me. Hugh, release her," Master Cross turned sharply on his heel.

Apparently, this movement was a signal, for I was instantly surrounded by about seven guards. However, I was glad that at least Hugh and his equally stinking men left the room.

Master Cross began to walk swiftly towards the entrance, not caring to see if I were following him.

For a moment, I deliberated breaking out of their hold, and searching for Richard and Nick myself among these ruins. However, even before the thought could form in my mind, I felt three sword hilts poke into my back, pushing me forward.

Damn, they were good.

I was all but forced to step over the threshold. Only when I entered Red Fort, did I realise the true meaning of the phrase do not judge a book by its cover.

Truly, the interior completely defied the external appearance of Red Fort. The first aspect that caught my eye was the realistic murals that were painted on the ceilings. I tilted my head, taking in the elegant colours, the intricately drawn figures, the sapphires encrusted on the royal figures.

I recognised the murals all too easily. They portrayed the history of the civil wars that had brought the Seymours, the current royal family, to the throne two hundred years ago.

Complete with pristine, cream coloured walls, glittering chandeliers hung at intervals on the ceiling along the hallway that stretched on and on from the front door past the receiving hall, and white, squeaky-clean marble flooring, it could almost be considered a palace of sorts.

In truth, it resembled Bordeux Castle so much that it overwhelmed my mind.

However, I did not have much time to ponder on that, for the hilts poking against my back were beginning to become more and more insistent, almost viciously trying to cause me as much pain as possible.

Biting my lip, I decided to count the number of chandeliers I passed, hoping to forget the discomfort of being pushed along, of being completely at the mercy of these dangerous strangers.

I was currently being led along the endless hallway I had spotted earlier. Everywhere I craned my neck, I saw men in red and orange uniforms armed with blades and maces. Around the garden, on the connecting bridges, on top of the Red Fort, on the parapets surrounding the perimeters of the place, outside every chamber in the Fort, everywhere. Most of them were Vantaugians, but I did spot Monriquans here and there.

It pained me. It pained me that my own country people would resort to aiding the man who was betraying his country. Their country. How I longed to strangle these ungrateful, good-for-nothing traitors with my own bare hands!

"We have arrived," Master Cross abruptly came to a halt outside a large pair of double doors guarded by two, bulky men.

They were painted in blood red, bordered in bright, shiny gold. They were certainly set apart from the rest of the chamber doors, which were a dull grey in hue. On these doors were the words, embossed in gold, Master Diego in elegant script.

An elegant script that resembled Diego's penmanship very much.

Master Cross rapped the red doors three times. "Master Diego, the Lady Knight is here," he called out, his voice clear, edged with triumph.

There were sounds of scuffling inside, but before long, I heard Diego's voice. "Come in!" it was disturbingly familiar.

Where had I heard that cold, solemn voice before?

The doors swung open, and Master Cross gestured at me to walk inside, subtly waving away the guards around me. Breathing a sigh of relief as I felt the hilts removed from my back, I lifted my shoulders up and down to remove the stiffness in them, taking my own time to do so, much to the clear irritation of Master Cross.

"We do not have all day, wench," he glared at me.

"Pardon me, good man, but you have forced me to ride for almost two days without food or rest," I smiled dangerously sweetly, "I find myself quite stiff." I made a great show of flexing my fingers, and shaking my legs, before the amusement wore off.

Sighing, I stepped into the chamber, hearing the door being shut behind me, bracing myself to meet this Diego who had plagued the country in secrecy for the last ten years.

My eyes fell on instinct on the couple who were perched intimately on the bench at the far end of the room.

It was hard to miss them. In a room painted in cream, they were both wearing black, standing out most oddly. The moment I gazed upon their familiar countenances, I felt as if lightning had struck me there and then. I had to blink, I had to calm my suddenly rapid breathing rate, I had to pinch myself to make sure that I was not dreaming.

Because there was no way in hell this could be true...

"Lady Knight," the couple stood up together with cool smiles gracing their faces, "a pleasure to make your acquaintance after such a long time."

"But of course, you are not meeting me for the first time, are you, Jules?" the woman let out an evil cackle of laughter, quite a contrast to the timid, tragic mask she had been wearing in my presence for almost ten years now.

I could only look at her and think: I had trusted her. I had given her my friendship, I had helped her when she was in trouble, I had trusted her with Richard and she had betrayed me, let me down most dreadfully.

For the woman was none other than the Lady Jacqueline of Limoges. The woman whom I had believed helpless. The woman whom I had believed deserved my friendship, my goodwill for the strength she displayed after her husband's supposed death. The woman who had been weary and fearful of her existence. The woman who had sworn she would protect Richard with her life.

Damn her. She had most likely been plotting behind my back this whole time.

The slightly grey-haired man standing next to her was also familiar, and the last time I had seen him was in his youth. For a man who should have had been rotting in his grave six feet under the ground at this very moment, his face was still the same as ever, glowing with health and happiness he did not exhibit ten years ago.

James.

I had been shocked when I had initially found out that Richard was alive. I had been shocked when I had discovered those letters to Lucas. I had been shocked when I had discovered the string of murders committed by these scoundrels.

But to find this man alive? There was no shock. I felt accursed.

I wished I never did. Not after knowing how many misconceptions, lies, tears and pain he had been responsible for with his supposed death ten years ago, and for the countless deaths after that.

At that moment, all I could think of was only one thing: Jackie had betrayed me. James had pretended to die, and had wreaked so much havoc on so many lives, including my own.

And the both of them stood there with happy smiles on their faces, looking like a young lovesick couple up to mischief.

The Army had taught me caution. The Army had taught me to think tactically, plan every move, before attack. The Army had shaped me into a level-headed, calm and rational soldier. However, it did not teach me how to tame the wild rush of fury bordering the edge of insanity, the feeling of betrayal when one whom you considered your own killed innocents, and turned traitor to the country you held dear.

All notions of caution flew out of my head as I lunged at them both without a second thought.

***

Lord Maximillian Van Helsing

"Papa," my voice was tensed, stiff, "how much further?"

The surroundings were a dizzying blur, but Papa's face was still clear as day to me. Despite the sickening worry that was eating away at my insides at the moment, it was Papa's obvious concern for Julie that bothered me more.

He had never cared so much after Mama had died. I wished I could trust him, and believe that he was truly worried for Julie.

However, I simply could not.

When I had come back from Osterlund to see her, it was only to find her broken after Papa had flung cruel words at her again. When I had visited her in Vareniol after she had barely survived her mission, it was only to tell her that Papa had, once more, refused to come and see how she was doing.

Time and time again, over all these years, he had done nothing but hurt her. During most of those instances, I had not even been around to help her, to comfort her as I should have. She had to face so much all on her own, and all because of him.

How was I to believe that he had brought along over forty of her Corporals, myself, the Vantaugian King and his army officers, and was leading us all to Red Fort to save her? How was I to trust him that he would not sacrifice Julie if it came to choosing her life against the Princes'?

I knew not about him, but I would choose and save her over the Princes. Although the lives of the Princes' were also important, their worth would never be more than that of my sister.

Never.

However, was it the same for Papa?

To this very moment, I did not understand his true motive in leading this mission. He claimed that he was going for Julie, but was he truly? I could not even discern whether he was lying or being truthful for once.

"Five minutes," Papa answered, short of breath as he spurred his stallion on to ride faster through these woods, "we had best be ready."

His face was red, flushed with exertion – exertion that he was not supposed to experience in this old age. It was the principle reason why he had retired from the Army all those years ago, for the sake of his health.

However, there was a fierce determination in his hazelnut brown eyes, in the way his jaws were set, that somewhat convinced me that we would not return today without victory in our hands.

Julie would live, and she would be safe. So would the Princes. They had to be.

We were now approaching the looming red ruins with over forty armed men in tow, ready to lay siege to this old Castle. The men on guard around the gates, clad in red and orange uniforms, noticed our arrival almost at once, and began to charge as one towards us, with their swords pointed at us. I smiled grimly, looking at the determined men behind me, and at the equally ready Papa.

It was time.

***

Prince Nicholas

A familiar ear-splitting scream of agony ripped through the stale atmosphere.

I jolted awake from my exhausted slumber, startled, and my eyes met Richard's anxious ones from across the now completely dark dungeon. The screams continued on and on, each scream more piercing and louder than the previous, painfully drawn out.

Julie.

Julie was here. She was being tortured.

White hot fear of possibly losing her filled me with astonishing intensity, as I remembered Jamie's vengeful expression from earlier.

I shuddered. He was intent on harming even Richard and me, his own blood brothers. What was the probability of him sparing Julie, his current enemy?

Extremely small.

By the Lord, I needed to rescue her from their clutches. I needed to protect her. I needed to stop them from hurting her, from abusing her. I needed to rip their throats into shreds. Lord forgive me, but Jamie was no brother of mine -

I began to struggle and writhe against the thick ropes that bound me, desperate. "Julie!" I bellowed, shaking violently.

"Keep quiet!" Richard tried to roll over towards me, despite being bound.

However, I did not hear him. All that filled my ears were her agonised screams, all that filled my mind was the desperation to escape so that I could drag her and Richard far, far away from these psychopaths –

"Stay still," Richard commanded again, slamming his back against mine, before his hands that were tied behind his back began to work on the knots that tied my hands together, "we need a plan."

"Do you have one?" I flinched, as I heard her scream in pain again.

"The next time those guards bring in our food, we are going to knock them out as silently as possible, and we are going to reach upstairs at all costs. Do you hear me?" His voice was a whisper, a whisper that was filled with wild, raw anxiety that mirrored my own.

Another scream from above cut off what I had wanted to retort. Richard successfully managed to free my hands in the meanwhile, as I squeezed my eyes shut, taking deep breaths to keep myself from imagining the worst.

"We cannot wait until the guards come with our next meal, Richard," I gritted my teeth, as I proceeded to fumble with the knots that tied Richard's hands, "God knows what he is doing to her at this very moment – "

Richard's hands came free. "We had better hurry, then," he cocked his head to the side, hearing something I did not, "because I do believe someone is coming this very instant."

We quickly rid ourselves of the ropes that bound our legs, and sighing with relief when we felt circulation return to our extremities once more.

"Come now, we do not have much time," I dragged Richard up by the hand, as the footsteps came closer.

We both leaned against either side of the wall beside the door, tensed, ready and strangely filled with adrenaline. Whoever it was stopped at our door, and forced the key into the keyhole.

"Be ready," Richard mouthed, "when I say go, we attack."

I nodded tersely.

The door made a loud, groaning noise as it opened. Dark shadows fell over our unlit dungeon, as two guards entered, holding two trays of food in their hands.

"'Ere ya go, Prinnies," the plumper of the two stepped inside, quite at ease with the assumption that we were harmless now that we were tied up, "eat dat if ya can." He laughed cruelly.

However, the dungeon remained silent. In the dark, the men could not see that there was no one inside, and that the two of us were right behind them.

Losing interest in the humour of the situation, the plump one turned to his skinny companion. "Dey musta fallen asleep," he muttered, clearly annoyed, "shut da door, 'n we'll wait for da Prinnies ta wake up 'n eat."

His friend frowned. "We'll leave them be and come back later. I don't want to sit in this dark, damned dungeons and wait for a pair of stuck up royals to wake up and whine about being all tied up." He spat.

"Now, now, Comrade, Master Diego told us we were supposed to stay with da Prinnies until dey finish eating," the plump man cautioned, "he doesn't want 'em to try anything on us 'n escape. Come now, shut da door."

Still grumbling, the skinny man shut the door as told. Richard nodded at me at that very moment, and we did not hesitate.

We launched ourselves on the guards, slapping our hands over their mouths. I struggled with the skinny one, while Richard dealt with the plump man, both of whom put up a very tough fight. The food trays that they were carrying had fallen to the ground, causing all the food to spill, emitting a nauseating odour.

However, the element of surprise was on our side, and my training in Osterlund had given me enough knowledge on how to knock out a person without much effort. This was indeed crucial, as effort and energy were two necessities that we were short on at the moment.

Curling my index and middle finger, all the while keeping a tight hold over his mouth, I dug into the pressure points on either side of his windpipe with ferocity.

He fell slack within moments, and collapsed with a light thud.

"Remarkable," Richard wheezed in admiration, "come now, and help me. I am weary of this one." He winced, as the plump man struggled and made muffled attempts to shout for all it was worth in his hold.

I nodded, I attempted the same technique on the plump man, while Richard held him as still as he could.

It worked like a charm once more.

When he too fell, Richard leaned against the wall in exhaustion. "Where did you learn that?"

I pulled back my sleeves, and crouched down in front of the two unconscious guards. "At training," I answered shortly, "now come. We have no time to waste."

***

The Lady Knight

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

I was barely conscious. I was hanging upside down, in a chamber full of monsters armed with blades, circling me like sharks at sea, smirking, laughing, sneering as they watched me bleed to my death.

I had sealed my fate when I had so furiously pounced on James and Jackie.

"The end of the Lady Knight," James drawled out, twirling the dagger that was wet with my blood, "the woman who had sworn to protect the beloved twin Princes of Monrique at the cost of her own life. And what a tragic end it was." There was much jeering at this.

I gazed at him with the little energy I had left. "I would not quite call it tragic," my voice was soft, "it is rather satisfying, truth be told."

He admired the blood on his dagger, not even bothering to look at me. "And why is that?"

"Because I see fear in your eyes," I offered him a twisted smile, "you are so fearful of me that you have confiscated my weapons, tied me up, and have had so many of your men pull all those blades on me. Even as I hang here, tired and in pain, you still do not dare to even touch me. What can be more satisfying for a dying woman than seeing her enemy quaking in fear in front of her?" A pop of mocking laughter left my throat.

That wiped the smirk off his face, as well as that triumphant smile on Jackie's face. "That is untrue. I have nothing to fear from you."

"Is that so?" I raised an eyebrow, "then I dare you, James. I dare you to free me. I dare you to fight me, alone, this instant, as equals. The winner receives the Princes. The loser dies."

I had no idea what caused me to rave in this ridiculous fashion while I could barely move my arm without wincing, but I was burning with injustice. I felt so useless being tied up in this manner, and allowing James to think he had won me.

He would never win me. Not while I can fight.

"And do you truly think I would agree to this?" his smirk returned, and so did the tittering among my captors, "victims do not set the terms."

"The ball is in your court, Master Diego," I kept my gaze on him, "but in my humble opinion, I doubt you would be respected by your comrades if you allow them to help you kill me, instead of doing it yourself. When I am dead, they will overthrow you themselves." I forced out a chuckle that surprisingly came out taunting and light.

My words had the effect that I desired. Almost at once, James' eyes narrowed in suspicion as they travelled about the faces of his comrades, who suddenly backed away in caution.

Jackie placed a hand on his arm.

"She is only trying to goad you, sweetheart," she murmured, "do not listen to her. Just draw her blood until she dies." She spat at me in disgust.

Time and time again today, I was left to wonder if this was truly the woman who had seemed so defenceless before.

"Nay, my love. For once, she speaks true," he answered her, glaring at me with every ounce of hatred in him, "I cannot be a true victor when I allow others fight my battles for me."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Men and their baseless pride.

"You are being stupid," Jackie snapped, "murder her this instant, and move on! We have the Princes to finish off as well." She shot me a vicious smile.

"My love - " James began again, but she cut him off.

"We have waited ten years, sacrificed so much, worked so hard for this day to come," she emphasised, with impatience laced in her voice, "do not allow something so trivial as pride to come in the way. Why does it matter whether you kill her in a fair battle or not? We only need her dead."

She made a fatal mistake. I could already feel a smug smirk curl upon my lips.

If there was one thing I was certain I knew about James from the time we were children, it was that he absolutely hated being spoken to like a child, despite the fact that he had been one. Young as he had been, he had always pretended to be a grown-up, solemn and stiff in his manners and speech.

Lo behold anyone who offered him advice with an overbearing older and wiser attitude. He could become as angry as Nick always did when anyone woke him up in the morning.

Clearly, nothing had changed in the last decade. "Silence!" he roared at her with unusual rage that caused her to flinch, and the guards around me to stare at each other uneasily, "I know what I am doing. There is no way she can win me in a duel. Ferdinand himself trained me in arms." He stated arrogantly.

I raised an eyebrow at that. If I were James, I would not dare to boast that I was trained in arms by a corpulent, two-faced, cross-eyed old man like the late Vantaugian King, whom I doubted could barely stare at his opponent straight.

"Husband - " Jackie began again now, but for James, at least, the decision was already made.

"Comrades Abernathy, Joffrey, Tristan and Bert, escort your Mistress back to her chambers. Comrade Hover, release Julie," James commanded, ignoring his certainly more intelligent wife, "and return her sword."

Kicking and screaming, Jackie was brought out of the room by four, bulky men, while the rope that tied my legs to the hook on the ceiling was removed. Almost at once, I fell into a crumpling heap on the ground.

Again, there was more laughter, as I pushed myself off the ground and tried to stand up steadily. Having viewed the whole world upside down for such a long time, it was difficult for me to adjust to normal vision.

Moreover, my arms and my legs were hurting all over from being slashed at numerous times.

At that moment, out of nowhere, a sword came flying towards me. I caught it on instinct before it could reach my face. One touch of the hilt was enough for me to recognise the sword as my own.

James pretended to applaud. "Impressive," he mocked, brandishing his sword, "now, everyone, back away. I am going to murder little Julie."

Once more, I tried not to roll my eyes at his over-confidence, as we positioned ourselves.

"Not so fast, Brother-mine," a new pair of identical voices spat in contempt behind me, "you have to get past the both of us first."

By God, I did not even need to turn around to know which pair of idiots had spoken. I was aware that they had been kidnapped, and I knew that they were here.

However, I supposed I had expected them to possess at least some level of intelligence. I supposed I had expected them to run away from the enemy, like normal people would, instead of running straight towards the enemy.

"For the Lord's sake, leave," I groaned, as they came into view.

Indeed, the twins were attired in loose-fitting red and orange uniforms of the guards present, holding up swords of their own, and faced their elder brother with anger and defiance.

I frowned at them, puzzled. How did they acquire those uniforms? And those weapons?

James was surprised for a moment, as were the rest of the guards in the chamber, before a lazy smile spread across his face. "My dearest brothers," he crooned softly, dangerously, "we were missing your presence so dearly."

"Is that why you had us imprisoned, Brother-mine?" Richard rolled his eyes.

However, Nick had other concerns. "Release Julie," he growled, striding forward towards James, "if you wish to kill me, then fight me. You did not need to go through ten years of trouble asking other men to do your dirty jobs for you. I am ready whenever you are." He held up his sword defensively.

Before James could open his mouth, I intervened. "Are you in your senses?" my incredulous voice bounced off the walls, "by God, Nick, what are you doing here? You should have escaped with Richard while you still had the opportunity to do so!"

Nick turned to face me. "And leave you alone with him?" he snorted, jerking a thumb at the clearly amused James, "definitely not."

I snarled in frustration. "I swear to the Lord, how stupid - "

"Calm down, he means no offence," James laughed, "can you not see, my dear? He wants to fight me, because he wants to keep you safe. He values your life above his own, because he fancies himself in love with you. 'Tis touching, truly."

Nick avoided my gaze, while Richard grew acutely uncomfortable.

"That is hardly of any consequence at the present," I snapped at James.

"Truly?" he raised an eyebrow, "well, then, let us see whether the opposite is true, at least." He lunged for Nick, but the protest was already on my lips.

"Nay!" I cried out.

I rushed forward, and was quick to bring up my own sword against his before the blow could reach my body. He placed all his weight on our interlocked swords, as he leaned towards me.

"Young love," he crooned through the gap between our swords, "so, very predictable."

Using all my strength, I pushed against his weight, causing him to stumble. I sensed Nick and Richard starting forward to intervene between us, and in that split second that my eyes diverted to the twins, James' blows began to come in, fast and furious.

Shit. "James!"

"All is fair in love and war," James winked at me.

Truth be told, I sensed a double meaning to his words, but paid no heed. I was concentrating too hard on preventing his sword from striking my already sore and bleeding arms. Nick and Richard attempted to step forward to help yet again, but I shook my head.

"Back off!" I yelled, "you will not interfere."

James swiped at my legs, and I jumped up in time to avoid being hit, wincing at the pain that lanced up my legs, and aimed a blow to his waist. He only laughed, parrying my attack almost lazily as he looked to his guards.

"Comrades?" he commanded, pretending to yawn, "please take care of the extras."

I frowned, not knowing what he meant, until I noticed Nick and Richard in the periphery, surrounded by the other guards who were poised to attack them. Almost at once, a second battle began beside me. However, this one was between two, weak and exhausted men and ten, healthy ones.

I could see that the twins were fighting for all it was worth, both with their fists and with their swords. However, it was unfair and unfortunate that they were sorely outnumbered.

"James!" I hissed, "this was not part of our agreement!" I blocked another one of his jarring blows, gritting my teeth at the pain that shot through my arm every time I moved it.

"You mentioned we were fighting for my brothers' freedom," he shrugged, lunging forward again, "I did not say I could not have my own amusement until then."

I snarled once more, seeing red. Enough was enough. I stepped up to meet his blows, attacking now instead of merely blocking.

"You are twisted," I growled, "why are you doing all of this for? Why would you wish to kill your own brothers on the orders of a Vantauge King who is long dead?"

He was the one retreating now, as I kept up a constant set of blows that offered him no chance to press attack against me.

His eyes flashed. "I am not doing anything on the orders of that scum," he spat, "when my dear father refused to accept Jackie as my wife all those years ago and all but threatened to disinherit me if I did not divorce her, she knew that there was only one way left to save our marriage. Iknew that there was only one way left to save our marriage. I had to become King."

I let out mirthless laughter, as he barely managed to block my blows. "You thought you could become King if you made friends with the late Vantaugian King when all he wanted was to see our country in ruins? You thought you could become King if you pretended to suicide? You thought you could become King if you kidnapped one of your younger brothers and attempt to kill the other? You thought you could become King when you formed your own illegal organisation to overthrow your father?" I mocked derisively, "please, James, for heaven's sake, grow up."

I could sense from the way his sword arm shook, from the way his blocks were weakening, that he was fast growing unhinged. "You insolent child!" he struck out his sword blindly, "you know and you understand nothing!"

"Then enlighten me. Is Jackie more important to you than your whole family?" I questioned sharply, "are you ready to murder your own blood for the sake of your throne? For the sake of your wife whom you barely know?"

"Yes!" he cried out passionately, "King Ferdinand promised me his aid should I challenge my father for the throne in the future. He trained my men, supplied me with weapons and funds. I was waiting all these years, waiting for Monrique to be at its weakest so that I can strike, and strike hard. I will reduce my father to such a state, financially, emotionally and physically, that he will have none to inherit after him, except me."

At that moment, I swiped at his legs, which he was not so fortunate to avoid. In my ferocity, I had cut quite deeply into his skin, causing his ankle to bleed rather profusely.

"Oh, and then what would you do?" my voice was sickly-sweet, "charge into Monrique and fight your father? Conquer Monrique alongside your equally psychotic wife?"

He cursed, leaning gingerly on his wounded ankle, as he weakly fended me off. "Dare not call her psychotic," he answered tightly, "I swear to God, Julie, once I dispatch you to hell, I will – "

He never finished. He never did.

For at that moment, I chose to fake to my left, leading him into thinking I was going to damage his other ankle. He lost his balance for a moment when I swiftly stood up once more and ran the sword through his middle before he could anticipate my move. I plunged it into him with enough strength to force him to buckle down to his knees in front of me.

"You – " he gasped, letting out a loud groan of excruciating pain as he clutched his hands to where I had stabbed him, where blood was gushing forth like a river during a flood.

I pulled out my sword vengefully, causing another scream of agony to leave his lips. After that, I wiped it on the ground, and returned it to my sheath, serene.

***