“Should be just around this corne—”

“Oh my! If it isn’t the esteemed Lady Viviane and her knight on a date! How uncouth!” The sound of shrill laughter and the nasally voice that followed immediately after had interrupted Medrauta mid-sentence. “Do they know that the church disapproves of such relationships? I wonder!”

“W-We’re not on a—”

“So what if we’re on a date?” Medrauta said before Viviane could finish her sentence. She slipped her hand into Viviane’s and held it tight, weaving her fingers in between her lady’s so that they became interlocked.

“Oh? You really are?” Isabella looked genuinely surprised. She held a glass of wine in her left hand, swirling it around as if she were deep in contemplation. “Well, my apologies for interrupting.”

“Great. Can you get out of our way then?”

“Oh, of course!” Isabella said. “But before that, I must give Lady Viviane some recompense! It would be improper of me to do otherwise!”

Medrauta’s guard was instantly raised as Isabella approached, but when she saw that the noblewoman was well and truly unarmed, she relaxed. That was a mistake.

“Here, Lady Viviane. I shall give you my finest glass of wine. I haven’t drank from it yet, so you needn’t worry.”

“O-Oh... Um... Thank you?” Viviane replied, suitably perplexed. She was sure that Isabella had just come to ruin her day.

“No need,” Isabella said with a sweet smile. She extended her hand...

...and thrust the glass forward forcefully, splashing the contents all over Viviane before anyone could react.

“Oh, no! I’m so sorry, Lady Viviane! My hand slipped! I’ll make it up to you, promise!”

“You bitch!” Medrauta exclaimed, stepping between Isabella and Viviane. Her blue eyes bore an almost animal-like ferocity, as if she were willing to draw her sword and beat Isabella to death with its blunted edge here and now.

“Why I never!” Isabella gasped, her eyes widening in faux shock. Her two ever-present stooges gasped as well, echoing her expression. “Is that how your knight receives a proper apology, Lady Viviane!?”

At that moment, a very large, heavyset man dressed in clearly expensive clothes stepped away from the crowd to stand in front of Isabella and her friends in a rather defensive manner. His thick brows drew together like thunderclouds, and he stared straight at Medrauta with unbridled fury in his eyes.

“What did you just call my daughter?”

Medrauta merely raised an eyebrow as she took a deep breath, controlling her anger. “Duke Rosenhall, I presume?”

“Indeed,” the duke rumbled.

“I find it impressive that a man of your station is here instead of at the palace or the northern border during these times, but I am a simple knight who knows nothing of the great empire’s workings. However, I can count on my limited vocabulary, at the very least.”

“What are you trying to say, fool? Do not bandy words with me, girl.”

“Ah. My apologies. It seems I wasn’t clear the first time. I called her a bitch, Your Grace.”

“How dare you!” Duke Rosenhall thundered.

“Oh no, I wasn’t dared. She’s a bitch, Your Grace.”

Duke Rosenhall raised a hand to slap Medrauta across the face, but something dangerous in the knight’s eyes made him freeze in place. “Y-You...! The Round Table will hear of this! What is your name, knight!?”

“We are neither in Rosenhall fief, nor am I your subject. I have no obligation to tell you, Your Grace. Now, please step aside and take your bitch daughter with you.”

“Y-You would speak in such a crass manner again!? It seems you truly do not understand who you’re dealing with! However, I am merciful. Apologize to me and my daughter immediately, and I shall let you go. Otherwise, I will show you the might of House Rosenhall!”

By this time, a large crowd had assembled, forming a ring of spectators who watched the confrontation with great interest.

“Medrauta...” Viviane whispered. “Let’s just apologize and go, okay...? It’s just a little wine, and I can always get a new dress... It’s not worth all this...”

In truth, Viviane was furious. She knew she could easily pulverize Isabella with her newfound strength, but even so, she didn’t want to run the risk of Medrauta missing the qualifiers or getting into trouble, especially when there were so many people watching.

“No,” Medrauta squeezed Viviane’s hand. “Why should we have to apologize when we’ve done nothing wrong? I won’t let this slide, Viviane. It seems she’s being especially daring today since her father’s here, but I’ll never let a bitch insult the woman I love and get away with it. ”

At that, Viviane could do nothing but blush fiercely.

“Graaah! Roland! Attend to me at once!” The duke shouted. In a matter of seconds, a man emerged from the sea of people. He stood twice as tall as Medrauta and wore a set of full plate armor. It was the height of summer and he had just exited from the mass of festival-goers that surrounded the confrontation. By all rights, the man should have been sweating like a pig, but he looked completely fine.

“Your Grace,” Roland saluted briefly. “You called?”

“Dispose of this wretched girl for me immediately!” Duke Rosenhall jabbed a finger at Medrauta, spittle flying from his mouth in rage.

“I—” Roland paused as he stared at Medrauta. Likewise, Medrauta stared back, seemingly in shock.

“Hah! Scared, are you, girl?” The duke smirked, taking Medrauta’s silence as fear. “Well, it’s too late for you!”

“Roland! What the hell are you doing here!? I haven’t seen you in two years and here you are, serving this fop? You’re kidding!” Medrauta laughed.

“I could say the same for you, Medrauta. It was just at the beginning of this year that you were knighted, weren’t you?” Roland grinned. “Didn’t Padraig always tell you to stay out of trouble?”

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“Well, sometimes trouble finds me.” Medrauta nodded in Viviane’s direction, drawing Roland’s attention to the rather large wine stain on the noblewoman’s dress.

“...Ah, shit.”

“D-Daddy! What’s taking so long!?” Isabella exclaimed from behind her father, wearing her best impression of a scared noblewoman. She’d even taken the time to fetch water from a nearby stall in an effort to moisten her eyes. “Aren’t you going to punish that scary knight!?”

“O-Of course! Your daddy’s getting on it right now!” Duke Rosenhall responded pathetically before turning his attention to Roland. “What are you doing!? You aren’t paid to speak, fool! Now erase her from my sight!”

Medrauta balked. “...No. It can’t be! You’re a mercenary now!? What happened!?”

“...A lot of things. I didn’t like the new policies in the imperial order, so I transferred out.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure the northern army’s looking for knights. You might find some luck re-enlisting if you do so now. It’d be better than serving this asshole.”

“Yeah, well...” Roland sighed, drawing his sword. “I still have to do this for now. It’s tight this month. Hope you’ll go easy on me.”

“You know I won’t.”

Both knights exploded into action.

The duel, if it could be called one, lasted no more than ten seconds.

Medrauta’s sword flashed out from her scabbard like silver lightning, its blade moving so fast that the senior knight could barely believe Medrauta had only been recently knighted.

A powerful impact in his wrist drove a sharp pain through his entire sword arm, causing him to drop the weapon as Medrauta issued her first attack. With her other hand, she caught the sword even as it fell from the air, and in a dazzling display of bladework, she struck the armored knight at least a dozen times in the helmet.

Roland sank to his knees, the dreadfully disorienting sound of ringing steel reverberating in his ears. “F-Fuck, Medrauta!”

Medrauta raised her sword and delivered one final blow to the back of Roland’s helmeted head, causing even the spectators to wince at the force of the blow. The sound that echoed through the air was reminiscent of a ringing gong, and though the duel was over, Medrauta wasn’t finished.

She whirled around and thrust Roland’s sharpened sword forward with incredible speed, the glittering blade’s path missing Isabella’s face by a mere hair’s breadth. The spectators gasped, and Duke Rosenhall’s eyes widened in horror.

It was more than a bold move, for if Medrauta had actually struck Isabella even superficially, she was sure to be punished harshly by the Round Table. But her precision was unparalleled even among knights, and the blade passed by Isabella harmlessly.

“Oh, no. I’m so sorry, Lady Rosenhall,” Medrauta said in a monotonous voice that simply oozed with hatred. “My hand slipped.”

“E-Eek!” Isabella shrieked, leaping away from the blade and falling onto her rear.

“Got anyone else you wanna call, Your Grace?”

“Y-You really don’t understand w-what I’m capable of, do you!?”

Medrauta simply laughed. “Let me tell you the only good thing about being an orphan, Duke Rosenhall. There’s no one you can go for. No one you can threaten. The only person you can try and attack is me, and I doubt you’re brave enough to do that.”

“Fool! Do you think that pitiful friend of yours will survive the aftermath of this!? I’ll destroy her family!”

“You’re welcome to try,” Viviane said, joining hands with her knight once more. She stared Duke Rosenhall straight in the eyes, all traces of the meek noblewoman now gone and replaced by a cold fury. “House Castellia welcomes all challenges.”

“W-What!? Y-You! It can’t be!”

Viviane curtsied elegantly, though there was no courtesy in the gesture. “Viviane Aspera di Castellia. My father awaits your challenge.”

“G-Guh! T-This isn’t over!” Duke Rosenhall spluttered as he picked his still-stunned daughter off the ground and beat a hasty retreat, pushing their way through the crowd and disappearing into the distance.

“Good riddance,” Medrauta sighed. She bent down, sliding Roland’s helmet off and slapping the man awake. “Your sword.”

“...Shit. You’re a damn monster, you know that? No wonder they said you could be a captain immediately after graduation,” Roland took the sword that Medrauta had picked up a second ago and pushed himself off the ground as he held his head in pain with one hand.

“Granted, you weren’t exactly the best duelist in the order, cavalier.”

“...I suppose so. You never did best me on horseback.”

“Doubt I could even now.”

The two shared a bout of laughter, but Roland’s mood soon soured.

“Ah, shit. I’ll probably be fired now, and they’re having a goddamn food shortage now of all times!”

“Congratulations.”

Roland shot Medrauta a withering look. “‘Congratulations’? I know you were defending your friend—”

“She’s my lady.”

“She’s your—Huh. Okay. Look, Medrauta. It doesn’t matter. I’ve got a kid waiting at home and I need to put food on the table. You think I serve those insufferable jerks because I want to? The imperial order’s gone to shit and—”

“It’ll be fine, Roland. You just need a job, right?”

Roland nodded. “Yeah. You gonna pay me or what?”

“No. But someone else is. Like I said earlier, there’s a very good chance that they need more knights in the north, and someone here could put in a good word for you.” Medrauta gestured to Viviane.

“E-Eh!? Me!?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what Roland’s circumstances are, but he used to be part of the imperial knights. I was a squire when I met him and he taught me everything I know about jousting. Think you could recommend him to your father, Viviane?”

“Hm... I could try, but it’ll be father’s choice in the end. Sir Roland will have to tell his story to my father personally.”

Roland sank to a knee. “Should you do this for me, I will be forever in your debt, Lady Viviane.”

“P-Please stand, Sir Roland! You needn’t kneel for me to do something so simple! Medrauta is vouching for you, so I’ll let father know by tonight. Please remain in the capital, alright?”

“...You honor me, Lady Viviane. Truly.” Roland saluted Viviane and then turned to Medrauta. “You sure found yourself one hell of a lady.”

“Damn straight,” Medrauta grinned.

The two girls bade Roland farewell as he headed off to find the infirmary. The crowd dispersed as the confrontation reached a close, and Medrauta escorted Viviane back to her dormitory despite the noblewoman’s protests.

“Didn’t you want to compete in the tourney!? You’re going to miss the deadline for the qualifiers, Medrauta!” Viviane complained even as the knight gently pushed her through the doorway of her room.

“There’s always next year, Viviane. Besides, I can’t bear to leave you standing in that ruined dress while I have fun by myself.”

“...You idiot. You could have just sent me back on my own...”

“Of course not,” Medrauta said as she stepped closer to Viviane. “If I did, then I wouldn’t have had an excuse to be alone with you.”

Suddenly, Viviane was extremely conscious of not only herself, but Medrauta as well. With the door of her room shut, the only connection they had to the outside world was the sole window that provided a spectacular view of the noonday sun. Barring any sudden visitors, they were well and truly alone.

Wait... Isn’t this... the perfect opportunity? Viviane gazed at Medrauta. The knight’s back was now turned to her as Medrauta busied herself by rifling through Viviane’s closet in an attempt to find a suitable dress.

“Ah! This one would look wonderful on you and keep you cool in this heat!” Medrauta grinned as she turned back to Viviane. “Here, change into... this?” The knight’s voice trailed off.

Viviane was staring up into Medrauta’s eyes with a pensive look as she struggled internally with her decision. Sensing that her lady had something important to say, Medrauta remained silent.

It was time to cast aside all hesitation. She’d waited long enough for this moment.

It’s now or never! Viviane took a deep breath and gathered every ounce of courage she possessed. “Medrauta, I—”

Only to be interrupted by three sharp knocks against the door.