“W-What do we do!?”

“I don’t know.”

“W-Why did this happen to us!?”

“I don’t know.”

“H-How are we supposed to win!?”

“I don’t fucking KNOW!” Medrauta slammed her fist against the table with such force that it snapped. Splinters exploded into the air as the table’s halves crashed onto the ground uselessly.

“...Shit. I’m sorry, Viviane.”

“N-No! It’s okay! I can just get another one, ahaha...”

“It’s not that. I’m sorry for shouting at you Viviane. I shouldn’t have.”

Viviane regarded Medrauta for a few seconds before putting on a gentle expression. “We’re both rather stressed out, aren’t we? I was watching from the window, you know. I nearly fainted when I saw the princess slap you.”

“...I just... I hate it, Viviane. We’ve come so far, and now... Now I’m going to be forced to break my oath, even though I—”

“Don’t worry, Medrauta.” Viviane knelt by Medrauta’s side, placing her hands on top of her knight’s and squeezing them gently, as if to impart even the slightest amount of courage and confidence. “We’ll find a way to win.”

As much as Medrauta wanted to believe those words, she just couldn’t bring herself to bask in that false hope. The royal siblings had only arrived two days ago, but just yesterday, the princess herself had challenged them to a match.

There had been no prior warning other than the slap issued to Medrauta upon the princess’ arrival, and her challenge had struck Medrauta with just as much surprise as her slap.

Medrauta and Viviane had been walking through the hallway after class. They made their way toward the training hall, intending to experiment on a few methods that they’d read about in the archives.

Despite their string of continuous losses, they wore smiles on their faces, and their conversation was light and jovial. That is, until the march of armored boots echoed through the hallway.

Medrauta easily recognized them as imperial knights. Their armor was immaculately polished and the hilts of the weapons were beautifully inlaid with gems. These garish knights barred their way from both front and rear.

Viviane glanced at Medrauta worriedly, clutching her knight’s arm out of instinct and fear. Medrauta’s right hand fell to the hilt of her sword almost reflexively.

“...The hell? I don’t care if you’re imperial knights or whatever, but if you’ve got a bone to pick with me, fucking don’t.” Medrauta glared at the knights standing in their way, emitting a killing intent that was powerful enough to cause the closest knight to back away.

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But that was the only ground that they were willing to give. While the imperial knights certainly looked gaudy, they were no fools, and neither was the imperial family. Charged with the sole duty of protecting the imperial family, the imperial knights’ most valuable ability laid not in their strength, but rather their ability to judge the strength of their opponent.

To them, Medrauta was certainly a knight to be reckoned with. Though she was their junior, they knew by instinct that Medrauta’s skill with a blade trumped them in every aspect. Yet, there was one thing that she lacked severely: the ability to protect.

Had she truly attempted to fight them in earnest, the imperial knights wouldn’t have lasted more than a few minutes despite Medrauta only being armed with a blunted sword. But they knew that she could never do so, and the reason for that was standing right beside her.

Fighting a group of imperial knights single-handedly and winning was one thing, but doing so while protecting someone was a completely different challenge, and one that both the imperial knights and Medrauta knew wouldn’t be possible at her current level.

Luckily for Medrauta, they hadn’t come to fight.

A moment later, the knights had parted to make way for their mistress, the princess herself.

Princess Gwenhwyfar’s expression grew dark as her gaze landed on Viviane, and she wasted no time making her declaration of war. She strode up to the pair, flanked by her imperial knights. Though Viviane cowered and hid behind Medrauta, the silver-haired knight stood her ground defiantly.

Even though it was the princess herself, Medrauta refused to let anyone intimidate Viviane. Viviane was the one that she had sworn herself to, after all.

“...Your Imperial Highness, I humbly request that you step back. You are making my lady uncomfortable.”

Princess Gwenhwyfar regarded Medrauta with an expression that appeared to be disdain mixed with something inscrutable. “Lady Viviane, I challenge you to a match.”

“We refuse,” Medrauta shot back immediately, holding the princess’ gaze. She knew very well that she was skirting a very fine line, but for some reason, she felt as though the princess wouldn’t punish her.

“I... Um... Y-Your Imperial Highness... I-I don’t... w-want to...” Viviane looked as though she were about to burst into tears.

Princess Gwenhwyfar grit her teeth in annoyance. “It seems I wasn’t being clear, Lady Viviane. I am not challenging you as a fellow lady. I am challenging you as Gwenhwyfar Augustyne di Kyrrako, Princess Imperial of Avalyne.”

That in itself was the crux of the matter and what landed Medrauta and Viviane in their current predicament. As a member of the imperial family, the princess was entitled to issue official challenges backed by the power of the throne. Those who received one were not permitted to refuse. However, such a privilege also acted as a double-edged sword, as the imperial family was bound to accept any challenge issued their way.

“The stakes will be as such,” the princess had stated. “Should I emerge victorious, you will hand over your knight to me. And should you emerge victorious... Well then, I shall grant you any wish within my power. Do you have any further objections?”

Although Viviane wanted to reject the entire match itself, it was clear that there was no retreat. The only thing she could do now was move forward.

“N-No, your Imperial Highness...”

“Excellent. Then it is settled. I shall see you in five days from now at the arena. Good day, Lady Viviane.”

Princess Gwenhwyfar curtsied elegantly and turned, a storm of armored knights following in her wake.

Medrauta clenched her hands tightly, barely managing to suppress her anger. She didn’t know why the princess was doing this, or what she and Viviane had done to deserve being singled out.

All she knew was that she absolutely could not lose.

I’ll protect this oath with my own hands...

...No matter what.