Letto flopped down tiredly on Aiden’s bed. He bounced once, then bounced again intentionally.
Sitting on one side of the bed, Drax shot him a scolding look.
“It’s not your room, Letto,” he chided his friend. “Don’t go spoiling the bed.”
“There’s enough spring in the bed to bounce a thousand Lettos,” Aiden said, rummaging through his wardrobe for the attire he was to wear. “Let him bounce.”
Ted laughed. “Look at you being all nice to Letto. Who would’ve thought that not so long ago you were avoiding him.”
Aiden pulled out the attire he was supposed to wear and held it up to study it.
“For the last time, Ted,” he said. “I wasn’t avoiding Letto.”
“Just me then,” Drax said. “And I still don’t know why.”
Ever since Aiden had gotten Valdan to get Nerot to teach Letto, Letto and Drax had taken to spending their time after dinner in Aiden’s room, or Ted’s room, whichever one they were occupying at the time.
“Is that what you’re really wearing?” Ted asked Aiden.
He was lying on Aiden’s carpet and had a clear view of Aiden and what he was doing.
Aiden raised the attire a little higher.
After being informed of the envoy coming to the kingdom by Brandis and being told that he was to be in attendance, a tailor had been sent to his room. And true to the palace’s reputation, the tailor wasn’t simply a tailor, he was an elderly man with the actual [Tailor] class.
The entire tailoring process had been quick and smooth. Aiden’s measurements had been taken in a manner that would’ve seemed otherworldly on earth. The elderly man, who had said he should simply be called Tailor, had stared at Aiden for a full second before asking what design he would fancy.
Aiden’s request had been born out of nothing but nostalgia. Everything was simple.
He had simple pants, lack. It was tight enough to be presentable for a ball but free enough to allow him easy movement. The tailor had suggested a simple buttoned tee-shirt, white with a dragon design on one side of the shirt. Aiden had agreed to the color but protested to the dragon design. The tailor was trying to make a statement and it wasn’t the kind of statement Aiden wanted to make.
People did not walk around wearing dragons in the kingdom.
Aiden’s nostalgia was the brown trench coat that currently swallowed up the rest of the attire. It had been measured just right and the tailor had crafted it as he wanted.
He stared at it now, remembering his days in the Order.
“Going for that John Constantine vibe?” Letto asked. “I don’t think anyone at the ball will get the joke.”
Aiden had a feeling there would be one or two who would get the meaning. After all, he knew much about Nel Quan and what exactly they were capable of as a kingdom.
He hung the attire back in the wardrobe and took his shirt off.
“Why weren’t we invited for this party again?” Drax asked.
Ted tossed something in the air and caught it. “Because we weren’t.”
“And Aiden gets special treatment,” Letto said. “Do you know all the soldiers have a running bet.”
“On what?” Aiden asked.
He hadn’t heard anything about a running bet. Then again, his only source of information about the king’s army was what Valdan and Ded told him. And Valdan rarely had anything to say while Ded was now the content of rumors and was rarely privy to them.
He also spends most of his time outside the castle these days.
Aiden felt that perhaps the search he had the soldier doing was proving fruitless.
Maybe I should just let it be.
Aiden shook his head. He couldn’t do that. For the future he was trying to achieve, he needed a team, and he had to find the person Ded was looking for if he was going to get this team he needed.
“…Did you hear me?”
Aiden blinked, turned to Letto. “What?”
“I said the soldiers have a running bet on whether Valdan will leave with you when the king finally allows us start going out on quests or not.” Letto turned and laid on his stomach. “Personally, I’m more interested in this mock battle I keep hearing rumors about.”
Drax frowned. “Yea. I heard of it, too. The king is trying to match us against Derrick and his people.”
Aiden almost laughed. Derrick and his people.
If only they knew that Derrick wasn’t the leader of that clique. But it didn’t matter. He put on the shirt and changed his pants.
By the time he’d slipped into his boots and was staring at the trench coat the others had continued onto a different conversation.
With a sigh, Aiden put the coat on. It was a party, but he just didn’t feel right going in without any weapons.
“Just out of curiosity,” Letto said. “Will there be girls at this party?”
“It’s a party,” Drax said. “What kind of party doesn’t have girls?”
“It’s a ball,” Aiden corrected, not even knowing why.
“Ball. Party.” Letto shrugged. “Same thing.”
Ted chuckled. “It’s really not. The kinds of girls you run into at balls are liable to get you hanged for some dumb reason. Got challenged to a duel once and almost lost my pecker.”
Aiden froze. “What did you say, Ted?”
Ted stopped tossing what he was tossing and Aiden saw it was a very small ball of yarn. “Got challenged to a duel once and almost lost my pecker?”
“Where?” Drax asked, confused.
“East side of the devil’s gulf,” Ted answered, unbothered. “They had the best moonshine and the—”
“I call BS,” Letto laughed. “I already asked around and nobody in the entire palace knows what moonshine is, or any alcoholic spirits. The closest thing they’ve got is some sharp drink called a Telilop. Slaps like a motherfucker. Apart from that, they’ve got beers of too many kinds and wine for the high class.”
Drax looked at him. “And why would you have this information?”
“Because they offered it as a substitute for moonshine, duh.”
“And why will you be asking about moonshine?”
“Because you can tell a lot about a place’s ability to party by how strong their moonshine is.”
“That’s not a thing,” Ted pointed out.
“And so is the devil’s gulf,” Aiden said. All this paranoia was making him forget that sometimes Ted liked to say random things and fit together a story just to throw people off.
It tended to help a lot in certain situations. Once upon a time Ted had confused an adventurer well enough that the man had given his quest up to them just so Ted could stop talking.
Aiden adjusted his coat. He was almost late.
“Alright, guys, I’ve got to go,” he told them, stepping over Ted on his way to the door. “I’ve got a carriage waiting for me outside.”
Letto shivered visibly. “How can you ride comfortably when you know what’s pulling your carriage.”
“It’s just a jepat, Letto,” Ted said. “Think of them as horses.”
“Tried and failed. Those things are really horrible.”
“Seconded,” Drax said.
Aiden wasn’t sure what it said about him that he had no issues with them.
It says that you’ve spent eleven years riding on them. It would be a problem if I had issues with them.
“Anyway,” he said, opening the room door. “You guys shouldn’t wait up. I’ll probably be late.”
As he closed the door behind him, he thought he heard Letto say something about a wine cellar and inviting Ariadne and the others over for a drink.
Aiden hoped he was wrong but doubted it.
As he made his way out of the palace to the carriage that would take him to the venue of the ball, he wondered why he hadn’t heard anything about this party in his past life.
Was this a new development or simply an event they’d just never been aware of?
He really hoped it was the latter as he climbed into the carriage, flanked on both sides by two soldiers on armored jepats.
The last thing he needed was a massive change from what was supposed to happen that he had no control over.
Aiden took his seat with a quiet sigh. Occupying the opposite seat on the carriage was Valdan. He wore party appropriate clothes, nothing too fancy, with clean black shoes that almost emulated his black hair currently packed back in a ponytail with a silver sheen to it.
The Knight took one look at Aiden’s attire and narrowed his eyes.
“That’s quite the attire,” he commented. “Looking to make some kind of statement, Lord Lacheart?”
“Looking to make ten statements, Sir Valdan.”
…
If the ball hosting the envoys from the kingdom of Nel Quan had truly occurred in his past life, Aiden could see why they had not been aware of it. Not only was it not hosted in the palace, it was hosted by the Derenof.
They were the noble house of the kingdom that boasted the best artificers. Blacksmithing, enchanting. Name it, they excelled at it. It was a good thing that they remained the most loyal house to the crown for all Aiden knew.
The manor that hosted the event was not their main house, merely one of many houses scattered across the kingdom. Their main manor resided in the city of their ruling in the south.
Each Lord had one. A manor in the capital city. It was where they resided on occasions when the king had a need to hold council with all his lords.
The carriage slowed to a gentle pull as they joined a slow line of arrivals. Each lord and lady and dignitary of one kind of the other making their entrance slowed the procession. Protocols demanded it, and an attendant made an announcement for each person that arrived as they entered the building.
“Do we have to wait until our turn?” Aiden asked Valdan.
“Normally I would say yes,” the Knight answered. Then his eyes panned to Aiden’s leg. “But all that tapping screams high levels of nervousness. Are you alright, Lord Lacheart?”
Aiden looked down at his leg, then placed a hand on it to stop the tapping. It succeeded.
“I’m not one for crowds,” he lied.
The truth was that he knew what was happening, and it was very surprising to him. He was remembering the last time he’d been in a carriage to attend a party. Zen had been on the other seat, they had not been invited, and they were getting ready to commit a sin that would make them the enemies of the whole of Nastild.
Aiden didn’t know how it worked, but in the event that the entire messed up framework of fictional time travel was real and there currently existed a timeline where he had gone to save Ted and had just disappeared, he hoped Zen and the others had made it out of the palace and back to the Order safely.
“If you’re not one for crowds, Lord Lacheart, you might be in for a very terrible night.” Valdan pulled the small curtains masking the windows of the carriage and gently knocked on the window.
He slid it open as one of their escorts trotted over to it on his jepat.
“How many carriages away from our turn are we?” he asked the man.
“Four, sir.”
Valdan nodded in thanks, slid it back shut and drew the curtain. He turned to Aiden.
“There you have it, Lord Lacheart. Just a little patience and the evening will be over.”
“Is there no alternative way we can take?” Aiden asked.
He knew for a fact that there was a secret entry just through the side of the building that the noble children tended to sneak out people that were not supposed to be sharing their bed on occasion. Every manor had one, created as if it had somehow become some kind of tradition for the noble houses.
“Unfortunately not, my Lord,” Valdan replied with a shake of his head.
Aiden pressed his lips into an uncomfortable, thin line. “You’re enjoying this a little too much, Sir Valdan.”
“And why would you think that?”
“Maybe the smile on your face.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about, Lord Lacheart,” Valdan said.
Then he chuckled.
In the end, no alternatives were presented and none was taken. They waited their turn until their carriage came to a stop. Valdan and Aiden stepped out quietly and made the short stroll to the entrance.
While Valdan walked with the pen-ultimate decorum as was to be expected of a Knight, Aiden walked with a casual gait, hands tucked in the outside pockets of his trench coat.
Valdan shot him a look once or twice before they even got to the entrance where the knight gave the man present a folded piece of paper. Behind the man, the doors to the manor were closed.
The man opened it, gave it a quick glance, then slipped it over to another attendant who slipped behind the door.
The attendant gave Valdan a smooth smile and spoke in the common tongue of Nastild.
“You may enter, Sir Valdan.”
The doors opened and Valdan and Aiden strolled into the building, preceded by a loud yet soft voice announcing them.
“Sir Valdan Dirtwater,” it boomed, “and his accompaniment, Lord Aiden Lacheart.”
Aiden almost stumbled over his feet. He skipped a step and caught himself before an embarrassing stagger.
Valdan led him to the side of the room, giving him an odd look. “You can’t tell me that you intend on stumbling for the entirety of this event, Lord Lacheart.”
Aiden looked at him like he was mad. He’d known the Knight’s name, remembered only the first name from his past.
“Your family name is Dirtwater?” he asked, giving the knight a wide-eyed look.
“Yes,” Valdan answered, confused. “I am from a city named Noella. Before my knighthood, I was Valdan of Noella. However, becoming a knight means that I require a family name. I chose Dirtwater as it means greatness from nothing.”
Aiden held his tongue, remembering that Valdan did not speak English and that all their communication was in the Nastild tongue.
“It means greatness from nothing,” he repeated, holding back an amused smile.
“It does,” Valdan confirmed, still puzzled. “I started out as a nobody from some backwater street in Noella and made my way to the top. I have not achieved greatness, not true greatness, but I will achieve it.”
Valdan motioned and they walked over to the nearest empty table and stood as everyone else did.
“‘What’s the ‘S’ stand for?’” Aiden muttered to himself.
“What’s that?” Valdan asked. “I didn’t catch that.”
Aiden shook his head. “Nothing important. Was just thinking of a race that writes the word hope with one letter.”
“They must have a really interesting written language," Valdan said. "I can only imagine how many stories they can put on a single parchment.”
Stolen novel; please report.
Aiden simply shook his head, a slight smile on his lips.
Greatness, huh…
He’d never been one to dream of greatness. Even before being dragged into Nastild, he’d never really thought much about life after college. Get a job, get a family, live happily ever after.
There had been more precise dreams before Tasha, his ex and childhood sweetheart, had done what she’d done. But they were gone.
“Greatness…” it was an odd concept to him, though he’d heard it a million times.
“Yes, greatness,” Valdan said as a Lord and Lady were introduced. “Every man must strive for it. Not all men will achieve it. Yes. But all men must strive for it. Some earn it, some are born to it and some, like yourself and your companions, are destined for it.”
Aiden had no response to that.
He was about to change the subject when a familiar name was announced. It drew his attention straight to the entrance, silence on his lips and a sadness in his eyes.
“Lady Yul Kwen Sook, crown princess of the Kingdom of Yul Quan,” the voice announced. “And her accompaniment, Lord Jang Su. Escorted by their entourage.”
Behind them were twelve other people. Eight men and four women in all.
Valdan looked between Aiden and the princess and said, “In a foreign kingdom a princess needs to have her entourage, especially when she is the crowned princess.”
Aiden said nothing.
“You should probably stop staring, Lord Lacheart,” Valdan whispered. “The kingdom of Nel Qwan is known for their beauty, yes, and it is known that Yul Kwen is amongst the most beautiful, but you are making yourself seem like every other young lord from every noble family present. I would advise control. One must not stare at a lady so blatantly.”
Aiden paused at Valdan’s words. “This is noted, Valdan.”
The knight blanked at the use of his name absent of his title but did not protest.
He sighed in acceptance. “I guess it was only a matter of time before you dispensed of my title.”
It only struck Aiden then what he had done.
“Apologies, Sir Valdan,” he said quickly, taking his eyes of the man with blue grey hair and sad eyes. “I was distracted. It will not happen again.”
“It is fine,” Valdan waved his apology aside as princess Yul Kwen and her entourage were personally shown to a table by an attendant. “I had thought you capable of naught else but your training. It is a comforting thing to be reminded that you are still a child capable of being distracted by beauty.”
“Beauty, huh.”
Aiden didn’t disagree.
In his past life he hadn’t seen the crowned princess of Nel Quan until a year from now when he had crossed paths with Jang Su for the first time as well. And like most people, he’d developed a crush on her for her beauty almost immediately.
But he’d grown out of it quickly enough.
No. What held his eyes was Jang Su.
Aiden knew the man from his previous life. He knew the man for the man he had become not the boy currently standing beside the princess. The General of the Nel Quan army. The man to storm the Demon King’s castle with an army of eight hundred when the crowned princess of Nel Quan had been taken hostage by the fifth general of the demon army.
Aiden knew that the demons had eventually come to call Jang Su a monster. He knew that the demons had come to hold him as one of the greatest foes they had ever faced, respected him for his style in battle.
He also knew of the man’s demise at the hands of Voss the destroyer of Vass.
For all Aiden had known, Jang Su was the one who had been most deserving of the title of [Hero].
More deserving than Drax.
Like Aiden, he wore an attire that stood out from that of everyone else. Where Aiden wore a trench coat, Jang Su wore a clean Japanese-styled kimono.
“The man beside her,” Valdan said. “Jang Su, was he? He walks with a fighter’s quality.”
Aiden nodded. Of course he would. Jang Su, while not the only one to acquire his unique class, was the first to acquire it.
Even so early into their arrival in Nastild, he’d embodied the concept of who he was so strongly that the system had identified it as a class in this world.
Aiden expected nothing less from the first man on Nastild to acquire the class of [Samurai].
Every person present remained standing for a while longer. They did not associate with a different group from the one they came in with. Groups familiar with each other exchanged, at best, a greeting or two in the form of a wave or a simple acknowledging bow.
Valdan gave a wave or two of his own and had a few bows. Aiden was struck with nothing but a few odd looks. He wasn’t sure if it was from his attire or people trying to figure out who exactly he was and how important he was that he was present with a knight.
He did catch Jang Su’s attention, however. Jang Su watched him with curious eyes from across the room along with three other of the princess’ entourage and exchanged a few words with her.
The entire room remained this way, on their feet and having nothing to take but the occasional sip of wine from one passing attendant or the other that moved with trays of wines in wine glasses.
Eventually, the slow trickle of announced lords and ladies and guests came to an end, then the attendant made the final introduction.
“Introducing,” the voice called out in the most reverent voice of the evening. “The royal family. King Brandis, fourth of his name, king of Bandiv. Queen Brandis, queen of Bandiv, Princes Deneret and Vaskot Brandis and Princess Elaswit Brandis, sons and daughters of the crown.”
Brandis walked in with an unquestioned authority in his steps. Unlike the rest of his family, there was nothing extravagant about his clothing. His shirt was simple and his pants black. He wore the shoes of someone expecting to do battle. If not for how clean he looked, his golden blond hair and amber eyes, he could’ve been mistaken for anyone.
No, Aiden thought, correcting himself. Not anyone.
Even without the glamour, king Brandis carried himself like a man above men. He walked with a controlled stride, fitting for a king. Aiden would’ve liked to say it made the man unique but he had seen enough kings in his life to know that the powerful learned to wear their power like a second skin. Even in a dungeon a king could still remind anyone of what he was.
It was something a simple man could not do.
There was silence as the royal family entered. Brandis and his family exchanged simple waves and nods of greetings until they made their way to a space set aside just for them. It was a rectangular table, long enough to house the entire family on one side of it. The chairs looked like they cost enough money to buy a small house.
When Brandis and his family sat, only then did the party truly come alive. People mingled. Words were exchanged.
Aiden watched as the groups intertwined with themselves.
He picked out a glass of wine from a passing attendant with a tray and took a sip as he watched. Everything unraveled easily. And as the nobles talked amongst themselves, there was no limit to how frequently they stopped by to share greetings with the crowned princess of Nel Quan.
It was not lost to Aiden that most of the men that approached princess Yul Kwen were on the younger side of the age group. They were mostly the heirs and young lords of one noble house or the other.
As the ball proceeded, time waning on by until they were over an hour into the event, the crowned prince, Derenet, got up and extricated himself from the royal table. Brandis’ eyes watched him discreetly until he vanished into the small chaos of people. Elaswit followed after, leaving Brandis and the queen with their younger son.
There were a few people who stopped by to exchange greetings with Valdan. They treated him as one would treat a younger brother or a junior at school.
Aiden couldn’t recognize them all but he knew enough to guess that some of them were knights of the kingdom, even if not specifically under direct command of the king.
“Sir Tenet was my teacher before I became an official knight,” Valdan told Aiden when they were alone, free from the constant hassle of exchanging greetings. “He taught me the proper ways of court.”
“As long as he didn’t teach you how to fight," Aiden joked. "If not I’ll have to ask why the palace assigned you to me when I could have the best thing.”
“The palace assigned me to you, Lord Lacheart, because…” Valdan’s words trailed off at the smile on Aiden’s face. “Ha ha, very funny. Though, I must admit to be very surprised at how well you’ve carried yourself thus far.”
The ball had been going on for slightly over an hour and, while he wanted to, Aiden was yet to take a seat even once. There were chairs at every table, clearly. But in a place like this, surrounded by people with significant levels, even the ladies were more than willing to be competitive in every way.
Aiden knew most people were always looking out for who would seat first. It was an odd culture. The higher levels would not sit first because it would be displayed as some level of physical tiredness. Those with magical oriented classes would also not want to sit first because it would be viewed as some form of weakness to the classes with martial orientation.
Aiden had always thought it was a stupid thing. Some events could go on from the beginning until its end with no one taking a seat save the king, if one was present, or the host.
Even the envoys from Nel Quan remained standing.
Aiden must’ve stared at them a little too long because Valdan had to draw his attention to a couple that was coming their way.
“Lord Derenof and his daughter, Lady Nella,” he whispered quickly.
Aiden turned in their direction with a warm smile on his lips and lowered the hand holding his glass of wine.
“Lord Lacheart,” Lord Derenof greeted.
Aiden raised his glass slightly in greeting. “Lord Derenof.”
The lord stopped in surprise, then collected himself. “Ah, I almost forgot you have Sir Valdan at your side. So you are the Aiden Lacheart.”
Aiden wasn’t sure he wanted the title of ‘the’.
“You are in no trouble, I assure you,” the lady, Nella, leaned over to touch Aiden gently on the forearm. “My father was just curious to meet the man my older brother had so stupidly almost killed.”
An alarmed look crossed Valdan’s face but the knight schooled it immediately.
As for Aiden, he didn’t have to think to know who they were talking about. Former knight, Derendoff was from the Derenof family.
Not really a hard guess, Aiden thought.
In fact, judging by the similarities of their names he should’ve figured it out the moment he’d heard Derenof's name.
He also looks like the father.
“Anyway,” Nella continued, “we just thought we’d stop by and apologize for my brother’s stupidity. It is not the first time he’s doing something uncalled for, and we’re very sure that it will not be the last.”
“I remain grateful to the king,” Lord Derenof said. “When he was informing me of my son’s insanity, he spoke of a justified need to grant you the unfortunate honor of witnessing a [Sight-bound] punishment.”
Valdan bristled beside Aiden.
“I am so glad he did not,” Nella said. “I know my brother, and that punishment will not send him into hiding. Instead, he would rage and hold a grudge. It is more likely to send him into a life of either excessive hunting or a life of crime.”
Lord Derenof patted his daughter’s hand that rested in the crook of his elbow. “A life of hunting will probably do him no good. Your brother would pick the life of crime.”
“He could just leave the kingdom,” Valdan blurted.
Judging from the look on his face after the words had left his mouth, it was clear that he had not intended to speak.
Nella laughed as if he had said something funny. “Oh, Sir Valdan. My brother would rather die than exile himself.”
Aiden understood why they suggested a life of hunting or a life of crime. An honorable man would’ve chosen a life of hunting since it was almost impossible to suffer the fate of [Sight-bound] if there was no one in the kingdom that was stronger than you.
Unfortunately, the life of crime was another option because killing a fellow human provided more gains than killing a monster. There were scribes and polymaths in kingdoms all over Nastild that continued to theorize on why that was.
Some felt it had something to do with the similarities of the mana while others refused the theory because monsters killing monsters did not grow their levels so quickly.
Aiden could just imagine a former knight wreaking havoc on the kingdom’s streets.
“Regardless,” Derenof said, pulling Aiden from his thoughts, “we just wanted to stop by and offer you our apologies for his sake.”
Nella nodded. “The gods know he won’t.”
They turned to move on to their next point of interest when Derenof stopped to ask a question.
“Just out of curiosity, do you know why my son tried to end your life? If it’s not too much to ask.”
Aiden’s expression turned thoughtful. After a while he shook his head.
“It’s not too much to ask,” he answered. “However, while I remember for a fact that it had something to do with something the king said in reference to myself, I cannot for the life of me remember what it was.”
Derenof watched Aiden a little longer before nodding and walking off.
“I hope you enjoy the ball, Lord Lacheart,” he said over his shoulder.
Aiden tipped his glass in response.
Once they were gone and out of earshot, Valdan grabbed Aiden by the arm.
“Sir Derendoff tried to kill you?” he asked in a sharp whisper.
“Former knight Derendoff,” Aiden corrected. “He is no longer a knight. The king declared him stripped in my presence. But yes, he did.”
“Why?”
“Something about the scriptures in regards to me and a few of my companions developing a unique skill.”
Valdan paused. “Hold on. I thought you just said you had no idea.”
Aiden cocked a brow at him. “I thought you asked because you knew I was lying.”
“I didn’t. I just asked because it’s something you do to show worry. You ask questions, even though it’s been answered before.”
“Huh,” Aiden grunted as Valdan went on to doing other things, yet never leaving his side.
Aiden hadn’t really thought about it before.
Zen used to do it a lot, asking what most people called pointless questions. One of the reasons he and Aiden had gotten along was because Aiden never berated him for it. Sometimes it got annoying but he never held it against Zen. The worst he’d ever done was not answer.
And you didn’t answer a lot of questions.
Aiden wondered if Zen in this timeline was better off left to join the Order. It wouldn’t be until a few years, though. Aiden knew Zen’s mannerisms and knew he could work with him even now.
I trained intakes in the Order, he thought. I can prevent him from having the Order life and still train him to be strong, can’t I?
It would also dissolve Zen’s greatest sacrifice of not being able to be there for his sister. It would be a significant change to the flow of events. Even if it wouldn’t have a significant effect on the Order, it would have a significant effect on other things.
Aiden’s eye caught Derenet leaning over Brandis at the table, exchanging quick words with him. The frown that creased Brandis’ forehead said the words were anything but simple as his eyes moved to the Nel Quan envoys.
Aiden tapped Valdan on the shoulder, then nodded at the envoys when he had his attention. “Did you notice anything strange about the people they’ve spoken with just now?”
Valdan gestured at someone to be patient as he answered. “Nope.”
“Did you see them speak with the crowned prince?”
“Yes, but that should be a given. He is the prince, and she is a princess. And they are both crowned.”
Aiden gestured at the king. “Anything deep enough for the king to know can’t be a given conversation.”
Valdan turned to Brandis’ table and found prince Derenet approaching them.
He dropped his unfinished glass of wine on the table and sighed. “It is not unheard of for such things to happen at an event with envoys from other kingdoms. Even the Lords and Ladies are known to do it when they host each other.”
“Do what?” Aiden asked.
Valdan adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves. “I was wondering why the king asked that I accompany you to this event.”
Aiden blinked. “I thought I was the one accompanying you.”
“No.” Valdan was folding his sleeves. “It is not unheard of for both parties to want to test their mettle. For that, they match their weakest knights present against each other. They claim it is a show of power. Personally, I just think it’s for sport. That’s why all these manors have a room dedicated specifically for such things.”
Aiden had witnessed this a few times. They didn’t match the powerful knights because it could be seen as an insult and a show of aggression. Knights worth their weight in gold did not fight simply because they had to. They were too experienced and too noteworthy. The last thing you needed was to let your potential rival or enemy know that their strongest knight was stronger than your strongest knight.
It was basically an admittance of weakness.
Valdan was done with his sleeves by the time Derenet was close enough.
“Win or lose,” he told Aiden, “make sure you learn as much as you can from our spar. It is always a good thing to learn what you can of other fighting styles. Though I don’t understand why he would wish to use me. With my titles the advantage will be skewed heavily in my favor. It is not like him.”
Aiden didn’t understand what that last part meant.
When Derenet got to them, Valdan bowed in greeting. “My prince.”
Derenet acknowledged the greeting with a nod. “Sir Valdan. I hope you are enjoying the event.”
“I am.”
“Lord Lacheart,” Derenet greeted.
Aiden’s bow could be described as a nod. “Prince Derenet.”
The prince seemed surprised that Aiden knew his name or perhaps it was the level of his bow.
“I am ready to serve whenever,” Valdan said. “As it pleases the prince.”
Aiden wasn’t going to complain at the chance to watch Valdan spar at a level that was worthy of straining him.
“Ah, I see.” Derenet looked from Valdan’s eyes to his folded sleeves. “I was wondering why you were folding your sleeves. Unfortunately, Sir Valdan, tonight is not that kind of night.”
“Well that blows,” Aiden chuckled. “I was really looking forward to seeing Sir Valdan go up against someone that is his equal.”
“Then I fear I must disappoint you more,” Derenet said. “Though I’m not sure if it is entirely a disappointment. Princess Yul Kwen Sook of the royal family of Nel Quan has requested a sparring match between you and one of her… retainers. And my father has approved it. What level are you?”
Aiden looked from the prince to Valdan. “11?”
“Good. Her weakest retainer just hit level 13. The disparity is not so much. Come with me.”
Aiden followed the prince, slightly surprised. It didn’t take long for the surprise to leave.
This is what the Sage and the king were talking about, he realized.
This was the game that King Brandis had not been interested in playing.
Aiden was beginning to believe this ball had also taken place in his past life. The only reason none of them had heard of it was because it was two more weeks before they were let out of the palace, enough time for discussions of it to have died down.
And the reason they had not been invited to it was because none of them had touched level 10 at this point. The king would’ve had to refuse the request on the grounds that they were too weak which, in itself, would’ve been a show of weakness.
Standing before Brandis at the royal house’s table with his hands clasped behind his back, Aiden waited to be addressed. When Brandis spoke after a look of contemplation on his face, it was not the exact words Aiden had expected him to say.
“Can you fight in that?”
Aiden looked down at his trench coat. He had fought a lot of battles in a trench coat in his past life, even inculcated everything he knew about fighting into it.
“It will not be a problem, your grace.”
Derenet stood behind the king, and at having Aiden address his father with the title, he frowned. The queen’s expression was only one of amusement.
Brandis’ expression, however, never changed.
“Will you fight?” he asked. “I am sure my son has explained the situation to you, and I want you to know that you can refuse.”
Derenet’s expression turned to shock. “Father, that will be—”
“I will not hesitate to turn her request down,” Brandis said, cutting Derenet off. “Yul Kwen has been given authority over her retainers and has every right to present them for this… display. Now she will not be disrespectful enough, no matter how she views this kingdom, to challenge me directly. It is why she has challenged you. But understand that I have every right to delegate authority to you or not. If he says he will not, then there will be none of this tonight.”
“You will have me admit weakness, father?” Derenet asked, flabbergasted.
“I have told you countless times not to invest yourself in these things, Derenet. They are nothing but pointless posturing. Wild jepats showing their rectal brightness in a pointless display of superiority.” Brandis turned to look at his son. “A man who knows how to fight will win a lot of fights. But a man who knows when to fight…”
“…Will never lose a fight,” Aiden finished. It was something he’d heard before, but not from Brandis’ lips.
Derenet scowled but held his tongue.
“If I tell you to go down there and acknowledge that you do not have the authority to sanction this fight,” Brandis told him. “You will. I will not subject one of our saviors to this pointless barbarism.”
The queen looked unbothered and the younger prince, Vaskot, remained silent, taking interest in his meal. At sixteen, four years younger than his brother, he was not considered an adult and knew what conversations he was meant to pretend to be ignorant of.
Derenet nodded. “Yes, father.”
Then Brandis turned to Aiden.
“Aiden Lacheart, will you fight?”
Aiden stared back at amber eyes and remembered something the head archivist of the Order had once said after explaining an execution of a Lord’s son by the Lord at the simple request of a king.
A king’s request is a difficult thing to refuse.
There were often layers to it, possible futures, potential favors, hidden threats or promises. Sometimes it was not intended or planned, but it was there. Always there by virtue of being a request made by a king.
But this was not it. Aiden could refuse here and nothing would be said on the matter. Staring into Brandis’ eyes he knew this. Derenet would have a lot to say, but a prince was only as troubling as the king allowed him.
In any normal position, the answer to fighting an opponent two levels stronger was often a no. But Aiden’s very existence made this position anything but normal.
His hand twitched and thoughts whirled in his head. His body had an answer even before his mind.
“I’ll fight, your grace.”
His voice was simple, spoken at a casual tone. But in the silence of the room Aiden had not noted, it was loud.
“Then a spar we shall have.”
Brandis rose from his seat and the crowd was already moving.
“But we will not have it in the arena,” he announced loud enough for all to hear. “There will be rules to be kept. This is a friendly display, not an aggression amongst animals. We will clear a space for them, and they will merely show us what they are capable of. Now clear a space!”
The flow of the crowd changed, and in a matter of moments there was a large clearance at the center of the banquet hall.
Yul Kwen and her entourage stood at the edge of the circle and one of them leaned in for her to whisper into his ear.
Once she was done, he stepped into the clearing.
“They will fight unarmed,” Brandis announced as Aiden stepped into the clearing. “And they will fight without skills. This is to be a show of skill not mindless aggression.”
Yul kwen curtsied. “As your grace wishes.”
Aiden and his opponent stood facing each other.
“A pleasure to meet you,” the retainer said in the common tongue. “I am—”
“Haruto Takanashi,” Aiden finished to his opponent’s surprise. “And I am Aiden Lacheart.”
If his math was correct, Haruto was probably twenty years old right now, maybe twenty-two years. The man had also gained the [Spearmaster] class.
“You have the class of [Spearmaster],” Aiden continued when the man opened his mouth to speak. “As a show of good faith, I will also inform you of my class. I achieved the [Weaver] class.”
Haruto’s eyes narrowed at him.
He doesn’t believe me, Aiden thought. I wouldn’t either.
Regardless, Haruto took a combat stance and Aiden knew his opponent was not going to take him lightly.
Good, Aiden took a simple stance of his own. I wouldn’t want him to.
Brandis stood tall at his table, arm raised high. “Is the representative of Nel Quan ready?”
He looked at Yul Kwen and she nodded. Her expression was calm.
Brandis turned to Aiden. “Is the representative of Bandiv ready?”
Aiden met Jang Su’s gaze, not the king or the princess, then nodded.
Brandis brought his hand down. “Begin!”
Haruto wasn’t large. He had an inch or two on Aiden and they were likely in the same weight class, but he moved quickly.
He crossed the distance in a single forward dash, readying an attack.
It was an open hand, thrust forward like the blade of a spear. Aiden stepped into it. slapped the attack aside, deflecting it from its path, and slammed his fist into Haruto’s throat.
The room fell silent.
Haruto dropped to his knees and doubled over. He clutched at his throat, gasping in pain while his body twitched.
Aiden turned, looked at everyone around. He saw shock on a lot of faces. Brandis was doing his best to conceal a smirk. Valdan had no such compunction. He smiled like a man whose team had just won against the odds.
Yul Kwen was the opposite of Brandis. Her frown was barely concealed, while Jang Su watched in surprise and amusement.
Aiden met Jang Su’s eyes once more simply because he could. The reaction of Jang Su told him that the man knew what he was about to do next.
Jang Su smiled, eyes never leaving Aiden’s as Aiden’s next word filled the air.
“Next!”