The Lady Knight

"Are you all right, poppet?" Kat asked cautiously, as she and Lisa gazed at me in concern.

Their eyes tried to discern my thoughts, but I hid them well. They had informed me mere moments ago of all that had happened while I was unconscious, and to say the least, my mind was reeling hard and fast.

Indeed, too much had happened over the span of a fortnight. A fortnight. I could not believe I had slept through everything.

"Aye," I assured them, "I am simply...overwhelmed. Are you both not supposed to be at the Ballroom at the moment?" I glanced at my timepiece, which read ten minutes to seven.

"Truth be told, yes," Lisa squirmed, "but we wanted to ensure..."

"By God, then what are you doing here still?" I was surprised, "your mothers will be furious! Go at once. I will see you at the Ballroom later. I will be fine." I smiled at them genuinely, as the maid helped me to dress.

"Are you certain, poppet? You will come?" Kat wanted to know.

"I have to," I sighed, "and I will come."

"Good," Lisa and Kat exchanged relieved glances, "we will see you there!" With that, they waved at me and hurried out of my chambers, their heeled footwear making quite a ruckus against the marble floor.

"There ya go, my Lady," the maid tied the last of the strings on my gown just then, tightening the corset back until I could hardly breathe, until it pressed so hard on the linen tied around my injured abdomen that it hurt.

I had initially wanted to don my Army uniform as usual, but my linen-bound legs could not fit through my pair of breeches. Hence, I had to sadly abandon it for one of Charlie's gowns that she had sent to my chambers, almost as if she knew I would be coming to the Ball today.

I glanced at myself in the looking glass in front of me, still seated on my bed. I was wearing a simple blood red gown made of plain, smooth satin that fell into many gentle folds from my waist, hugging my already painfully thin figure even tighter.

It had sleeves, and yet, my marred arms were now plain for all to see. My forehead was also wrapped with linen, and the still blue-black bruises on my cheeks stood out against my pale skin like a sore thumb.

All in all, I was not at my best today. Even the maid had given up on my unruly mass of curls, allowing it stay unbound over my shoulders instead of braiding it as she always did.

"Thank you, Beatrice," I thanked her sincerely, "and I am sorry if I gave you too much trouble." I knew what a pain it must have been for her to force me into this gown when I could not even stand up on my own.

She grew red and flustered. "Oh, it was no trouble at all, my Lady," she assured me, bobbing a curtsey, "with your permission, may I send for the Lord Maximillian?"

I nodded. Placing my hands on my lap, I stared out into the darkness through the window, feeling very faint. I knew I had to give a speech on the dais, as a Potential Quest Advisor, in a mere ten minutes - and I had a vague idea of what I was going to say - but how was I going to speak? Unfamiliar crowds made me acutely uncomfortable. Besides, I had barely prepared anything for this day, and before I knew it, it was staring in my face.

All I knew was that I had to go.

I fiddled with my fingers, hearing the needle on my timepiece ticking on steadily, endlessly, very much out of rhythm with my own heartbeat.

I tried to think of a structure for my upcoming speech, and how I was going to deliver it, imagining the ballroom and its stage I would be ascending in a few minutes.

After a long while, though, I began to fret. Where was Max? The Potential Quest Ball was about to begin very soon, and Max had been the one who had insisted on carrying me to the Ball, although I had assured him that I will be able to move with the help of a cane.

Had he forgotten?

I glanced at my timepiece again, sighing. I could wait for him no longer. It seemed as if I had to walk to the Ballroom on my own this night.

***

"Rue this cold," I muttered under my breath, shivering badly as I hobbled my way across the empty corridors like an old woman with the aid of a cane.

Never had I felt so handicapped, or so alone in my whole life.

I assumed everyone was at the ball at the moment, for I had not seen the corridors of the Castle so desolated before.

I glanced at my timepiece again, anxious. I was already ten minutes late, and I was nowhere close to the ballroom.

Would Nick have chosen his bride by now? Would the castle be celebrating? Happy? Jubilant? The nightmares of a fortnight ago all forgotten?

My heart lurched in pain. I squeezed my eyes shut for a brief moment, blocking out the cruel images my mind conjured up, of him blissfully in love with another woman, with the promise of a bright future alongside her.

I quickened my pace as best as I was able.

The folds of my blood-red gown, which was of the same hue as many of my healing injuries, billowed around my bandaged legs as I fought the heated agony in my legs, the freezing gale that was whipping my hair around my face and trudged on, wrapped up in my own, miserable thoughts.

At that moment, I heard another pattern of faint, approaching footsteps in front of me that grew louder and louder with each painful step that I took forward against the gale. They sounded slow, heavy, almost reluctant.

I paused in my tracks and glanced up, to see a well-dressed lean, towering man emerging from the shadows some distance from where I stood. His head was bowed, his left hand shoved in his pocket and his right bound in a cast, as he dragged his feet across the floor.

I would have recognised him anywhere. "Nick?"

He stopped short and froze.

One. Two.

He shook his head at himself, not looking up, assuming that my voice was but an illusion, and continued walking once more, trudging his way forward even more tiredly now.

"Nick, look at me."

He stumbled to a stop, almost tripping over his own feet. Trembling, he slowly raised his head, meeting my gaze.

One. Two.

His eyes widened, full of utter disbelief upon realising that I was truly there, right before him. His lips parted and closed repeatedly, as if he intended to say something, but was unable to.

Silence reigned and stretched forth, making the distance between us seem much longer than the few steps he stood away from me.

In the meanwhile, I stared straight into his grey eyes, feeling anxiety creeping into my body once more. Even at this distance, I could see how aged his orbs had grown, how utterly worn out his countenance was.

This was not a man who was about to choose his bride in a couple of minutes at a ball. This was not a man who was about to celebrate his engagement ceremony within that same time span.

Nay, this was a man in complete misery, submerged in his grief and depression. Kat had told me earlier that he was still mourning for James, still feeling guilty over his death, but she need not have.

The reason, the answers, the pain were all in his eyes, plain for everyone to see.

Yet, he managed a faint smile for my sake. "I am glad you have regained consciousness. You look beautiful, Julie," he remarked softly, breaking the thick silence.

What an inane statement. I could not look worse than I did now.

"Flatterer," I scoffed quietly, recalling the ball in Roche, "how well you lie. You should teach me sometime."

A brief chuckle left his lips, as he too, remembered. "I am not lying," he sighed, his smile morphing into one of sad reminiscence, "clearly, you still have no idea about the effect you have on the menfolk in general, let alone those tonight at the Ball."

A brittle smile wavered on my lips. "I cannot care less about the other menfolk," I answered softly.

He merely blinked at me, turmoil swirling in his eyes.

Unable to stomach another silence, I continued speaking. "However, you, on the other hand, have quite a number of Ladies expecting you at the Ball, waiting for you to choose one of them for a wife," I forced myself to chuckle, "what are you doing here alone?"

The tension in the air between rose by several notches. "My decision has been made long back," he answered quietly.

I willed myself to remain calm. "So I have heard."

He took a few steps towards me. "Then why are you asking me to go to the Ball still, ma chérie?" he gently answered, "when the woman whom I wish to marry is here, right in front of me?"

I went completely still. "I beg your pardon?"

His eyes were tender, filled with so much emotion, that I felt my heart begin to pound faster against my chest.

"It is what I wanted to tell you in the lagoon that day. And that day in front of the pianoforte in Roche. All this while, by the Lord," his voice was velvet soft, "I love you, Julie."

The words themselves were a mere whisper, a soft murmur meant for my ears alone, but there was a warm strength in them, as if he truly believed every word of what he had said. They resonated through me in a weightless cloud of happiness, like a sole candle in a dark, damp dungeon, briefly making me forget everything for a moment.

However, reality came crashing down on me almost at once. "But I believed you...you are fond of Tess. My cousin. I always thought - "

"Lady Therese?" he was puzzled, "it was never my intention to ask for her hand."

It was my turn to frown in confusion now. "But - "

He hurried to explain. "Granted, she understands me well, and she is very beautiful and intelligent but - " He paused.

"But what?" I held my breath.

His expression softened. "But she can never be you," his voice was laced with his rare vulnerability, "and I love you, Julie. No one can replace you, or how I feel about you. Not even your cousin."

That touched me in a way words hardly could. My eyes began to brim with tears, much to my intense and utter embarrassment. I blinked them away hurriedly, feeling my cheeks burn bright red with shame.

He, however, grew alarmed. "I am sorry if my words offended you. I know you do not feel the same way, but...." he sounded horrified, "by the Lord, Julie, I swear, I did not mean to make you cry - "

"You annoying, infuriating idiot," I cut him off, trembling, "you complete cabbagehead. I do feel the same way."

He stopped in the middle of his ranting, startled. He blinked.

One. Two.

A radiant beam began to spread across his face, lighting up his previously dulled eyes with life and his entire countenance with such delight that I could only stare, awed at what difference a few simple words could make.

Before I knew it, he had taken two, large strides towards me, closing all distance between us to pull me into his arms and spin me around single-handedly. I wrapped my arms around his neck, laughing as I buried my head in his shoulder, smiling so widely that my cheeks hurt.

When he finally put me down, however, he reached out to cup my cheek, the deep joy in his grey eyes reflected in my own.

"Marry me," he breathed.

I covered his hand on my cheek with my own, pressing a small kiss to his palm. "Nay, I would like us to court first," I smiled softly, "the both of us should take some time to know each other a little better before you ask for my hand. Besides, it will be quite amusing to defy all the courtship rules put in place by the Ladies of the Society, will it not?"

He chuckled in amusement. "I never took you for a rebel."

"See?" I pointed out, smiling, "this is one new aspect you learnt about me today. When it comes to the Ladies of the Society, I will do anything and everything to challenge their baseless frivolities and infuriate them to the best of my ability."

His lips pulled up in a wry smile. "Indeed I did."

With that, he released me and kneeled before me, holding out his hand towards me. I watched him in bewilderment, holding the pillar beside me for support.

"Will you allow me to court you, then?" his eyes twinkled.

Oh. "It might be a long one."

"We have all the time," he answered simply, "Papa already spoke to the Crown Council about it."

"And I meant it when I said I will go against convention," I continued solemnly, "you must be ready to defy those old hags."

An impish smile spread across his lips. "I have been waiting to do that for a very long time now, ma chérie."

I chuckled, shaking my head in amusement. "Papa and Brother-mine will be after your blood the whole time," I informed him, "especially considering Brother-mine's fondness for violence, I am afraid your chances of mortality are very high."

His smile widened, although I could have sworn I saw a burst of fear cross his eyes at the mere mention of my brother. "It is a gamble I am willing to take."

I gazed at him, touched once more. I knew for a fact how much he feared my brother, especially after the latter had beaten him up very badly once during our childhood when he had caught him bullying me.

Max had landed himself in a lot of trouble for that, with our father and Nick's parents. However, he had boasted to everyone around him, within Nick's earshot, that he would do it again should the need arise.

I took his hand and hauled him upright, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck. "Then aye, you may."

He cradled me against him, leaning his cheek against the top of my head. Silence enveloped us just then, creating a warm atmosphere of safety, peace and comfort I had not experienced in a long, long time.

As a Lady Knight whose life was in peril as long as she was in service of the Crown, I could never take these things for granted.

***