One by one, spectators wandered their way to the dueling grounds. A few knights lazed by the far end, joking amongst themselves. Six or so foppish nobles, sprawled across the steps, cast dirty looks in Mouse’s direction. Near the nobles, but not too near, a cadre of noblewomen clustered together, giggling and shooting glances at the knights and fops. Servants crowded together in a rowdy shapeless mob in the field nearby, chatting loudly and making bets. One handed out mugs of cheap ale from a cask they’d procured from nowhere, and another passed around cheese and flatbread for a few coin.

One of the noblemen noticed Mouse, sitting beside Cel at the edge of the field. Making eye contact with Mouse, he laughed loudly and nodded in Mouse's direction. “Is that the bitch?”

“She’s an ugly piece of work. Wonder what Reginald saw in her?” another replied.

A third one snorted. “Honestly, I wonder if he could see at all, the way he drinks. It’s the only explanation, really.”

“Disgusting. Leave the trash to the dogs.”

Mouse clenched his hands in his lap. If Moss was here, would they be muttering about her? Would she have to listen to these assholes spouting that shit?

Cel leaned her shoulder against his, subtly. “Don’t let it get to you.”

“It’s not… I’m not bothered, but… if it was Moss…”

Cel glanced at him. “It's not. You aren’t Moss.”

“But if I wasn’t here, would she be… would she have been…”

“If she was here, would she have sat by the edge of the dance all evening? Would she have pledged to help Sabelyn? You aren’t her, Your Highness. All you’re doing is torturing yourself.”

Mouse blinked. “You… were there?”

“At your side like a shadow. Or across the room with a hearing-enhancement spell. Same difference.”

“Then why didn’t you stop Reginald?”

“I, er, may have had a few to drink by then,” Cel muttered.

“What kind of bodyguard drinks on the clock?” Mouse grumbled.

“I was abandoned by M… your sister, robbed of my one chance for valor on the battlefield, and sent to guard her idiot brother while he played around in the capitol instead. Put yourself in my shoes. You’d drink, too.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Mouse twisted his lips. Playing around, huh? Is that what I'm doing? After a second, he glanced sideways at Cel. “It’s not like I want to be here, either.”

“That’s two of us, then.”

Mouse chuckled. Cel glanced sideways and cracked a grin. She started to giggle. His chuckles grew louder. Both of them laughed aloud. Cel slapped Mouse on the back heartily. Why am I laughing? He looked at Cel and saw the same confusion in her eyes, which only made him laugh harder.

“I was worried, but it looks like I shouldn’t have been,” a warm voice said.

Biting back laughter, Mouse wiped his eyes and blinked up at the interloper.

Eleda smiled down at them, braids dangling over one shoulder. “Ready for your duel?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Mouse said.

“Is this your champion?” Eleda indicated Cel with a nod.

Cel stood and saluted. Twain was tall for a moon elf, but Cel was taller, nearly as tall as Eleda. Sun elves stood taller than moon elves, something he'd always chalked it up to heartier meals from the better harvests they could afford when their land wasn’t frozen most of the year, but if Cel was taller too, there had to be something more to it.

“Ah, yes. One of our finest warriors, Celedesta,” Mouse introduced her. He remained seated, eyes fixed on the castle in the distance. Still no sign of Reginald. He cast a short glance at the fops, still jeering and laughing amongst themselves. With all his friends here, Reginald surely won’t abandon the duel.

“A few of us came out to support you,” Eleda said, gazing toward the noble ladies.

Mouse turned. It only took a second to recognize Gawain, gaudy as ever in her orange dress. Other faces formed out of the crowd. The princess with faint traces of scales and swept-back horns stood tall above the other ladies, bored. Slightly apart from the humans, the demon princess caught his eye and smiled a mysterious smile.

Eleda sighed and shrugged. “Well, I came to support you, anyways. I think the rest of them just want to see blood.”

Startled by her honesty, Mouse laughed aloud. Eleda smiled gently and sat beside him.

The bell struck the time. One, two peals rolled over the grounds. Silence.

“Don’t tell me the humans’ prince has run away from a duel with a mere elf,” Eleda murmured under her breath.

“Let’s give him a few more minutes,” Mouse replied. Fingers knitted, he glared at the castle over their peak. Don’t get cold feet now.

The fops quieted, less rowdy now that their duelist hadn’t materialized. One furrowed his brows, and another muttered in the first’s ear. Tossing frilly cuffs, a brunet fished a gold pocketwatch out of his pocket and frowned at it, as if the bells hadn’t given the time moments ago.

Minutes ticked away. The noble ladies glanced amongst themselves, conversation drawing to a quiet. Some retreated to the shade of a nearby copse of trees, while others extended parasols. Gawain plopped down where she stood. She shouted at her skirts. Seconds later, a sweaty goblin appeared from under layers of crinoline, ears drooping. Panting, he fanned himself. Gawain slapped him in the back of the head, he turned on her, and the two brawled in the ruins of the dress while the noble ladies retreated as quickly as their heavy dresses allowed.

The clocks sounded again, marking the quarter hour. The servants quieted at last, cheese and bread all eaten and the ale dried up. One went for a new cask of ale. The crowd broke up. Some wandered away to more interesting pursuits, while others jogged back to work. A few late servants joined the crowd, but more left, hurrying off to duties or more interesting pursuits.

Hoofbeats. Mouse looked up, eyebrows raised, then stood. “The Prince arrives,” he intoned sarcastically.