The day had come, the moment of truth: the duel between Remuria and Sir Falkner would begin. The event was to take place during high noon, in the dueling grounds of the royal castle. The grounds were a vast, open field surrounded by well-tended gardens. It was a place where duels of great importance and distinction were held, after all, it was a sacred rite in the eyes of the gods.
Before the duel was to start, several priests poured holy water on the dueling grounds to consecrate it for the gods. The other guests were seated around the grounds in oak chairs, while the king and queen sat on wooden thrones at the edge of the grounds, separated from all others.
King Hadaron was dressed in his ceremonial attire, vibrant red robes that contrasted sharply with his jet-black hair. He carried himself with great dignity and pride, as if every last drop of his blood was born to rule over others. Queen Phaedra, on the other hand, wore a stunning gown made of fine silk, with her blonde hair styled in an elegant up-do. She moved with a regal poise, her every move exuding confidence and charm. Together, the monarchs commanded the respect and admiration of all who beheld them.
Rhea and Remuria stood at the leftmost part of the dueling grounds, with Sir Falkner and his entourage on the opposite side. All eyes were on the princess and her attendant, with many among the guests openly sneering at the two. The battle’s conclusion was inevitable after all, the princess’s champion would fall to one of the greatest knights in Ishgria.
“It seems the princess’s champion is in for a difficult time.” The voice came from an earl, a man in his late thirties.
“I would normally not bother with such terse events, yet, it isn’t everyday one is able to witness Sir Falkner in the flesh.” Said a regal sounding woman in her forties, she was a duchess.
“That is indeed true, but still, to think the princess would challenge her own parents in a duel.” The earl said, a hint of surprise in his tone.
“Her relationship with the king and queen must be even worse than even what the rumors say.” The duchess replied, her gaze fixed at Sir Falkner who was fitting his gauntlets.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, King Hadaron wishes to make an announcement!” exclaimed a guard.
“Ah, it seems the show is about to start.” Quipped the earl.
“The bloodbath you mean.” The duchess replied with a chuckle.
The crowd slowly died down as they prepared to listen to the king.
“Honored guests and the most revered priests of Ishgria. I thank you all for your presence here today!” said the King.
“Today is a historic moment. For the first time in decades, a duel of honor will be held in these royal grounds.”
“By the grace of the gods, today we are blessed with the presence of Sir Falkner of house Revin, knight and hero of Ishgria!”
The guests clapped at the mention of Sir Falkner’s name. The queen was especially energetic in showing her respect to the knight gallant.
“Now, as you are all aware, the one who proposed today’s duel was none other than my own daughter: Princess Rhea!”
The crowd was silent. Many looked at each other, unsure if they should clap or cheer.
“By tradition, royals would not be allowed to participate in a duel of honor and must send in a champion to do battle in their stead.”
“However, today, I have come bearing momentous news!”
Remuria looked at Rhea, who was too engrossed in listening to the king speaking. She had realized what the princess had not, and it sent a chill down Remuria’s spine.
“I have communed with countless priests regarding the will of the gods, as well as the royal scribes regarding the nature of this duel.”
“Princess Rhea requested this duel to prove her innocence from allegations leveled against her during a royal inquiry. As such, it is she who will face Sir Falkner. Not her champion. Such is my decree, and in Ishgria: my words are absolute.”
The announcement from the king was met with stunned gasps from the guests, who whispered among themselves. While duels of honor were not usually fatal, the fact remained that taking someone’s life during a duel was not considered a punishable offense under Ishgrian Law. Several guests began to speculate about the king’s motivations, did he want his daughter dead?
Rhea's gaze shifted towards her mother, the queen, who was looking back at her with a self-satisfied smirk. The expression on her face seemed to mock Rhea, as if wanting to say, "Just give up."
The princess looked at her father. She was unsure if her father was the one to arrange the change in the duel, or was it her mother who convinced him. Either way, it did not matter much, Rhea needed to win.
“Rhea, are you sure you don’t want to say anything?” whispered Remuria into the princess’s ear.
“The king’s words are absolute, there is no room for bargaining. Just help me change later, and I’ll also need to borrow your sword.” Rhea replied.
“I pray you succeed.”
“Princess Rhea,’ the king proclaimed, his gaze piercing into hers, ‘given the unexpected nature of my announcement, I grant you half an hour to gather your thoughts and make any necessary preparations for the duel.”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“Thank you, your majesty, I will return swiftly.” The princess replied.
After several minutes, Rhea made her entrance onto the dueling grounds, drawing curious and condescending gazes from the spectators. Her attire was a stark deviation from the norm - instead of the standard chainmail vest worn by most warriors in duels, she chose to wear lightweight leather armor. It was paired with sturdy boots, and in her hands was a common weapon of choice for Ishgrian warriors: a standard two-handed sword. Despite the disdainful looks thrown her way, the princess walked with great pride in her stride.
“The princess must have gone mad!” shouted Lord Agramond, a portly nobleman with a bushy mustache and a prominent belly.
“She must have given up already!” echoed Lady Bascha, a thin, haughty woman with a nose as prominent and pointed as pride.
"The show's over before it even started," added Duke Gyrus, a prideful man with azure eyes that seemed to bore through the princess.
Rhea ignored the remarks coming from the nobles, she simply walked past them towards the center of the grounds. She knew what she was fighting for, and she would win with using everything she could muster.
Sir Falkner stood in the center of the dueling grounds, ready to greet the princess as she approached. He was a formidable figure, towering over the princess at a height of just over 6 feet. His armor was the epitome of the code of chivalry: a suit of chainmail that covered him from head to toe, and sturdy gauntlets that shielded his arms. An ornate helmet bearing the emblem of the Ishgrian monarchy adorned his head, marking where the knight's loyalties lied. Lasty, he wielded a custom made two-handed sword which was noticeably larger than its traditional counterparts, its weight a testament to the strength of its wielder.
“It is an honor to meet you princess, I wish we could have met in a more amicable setting.”
“Likewise, Sir Falkner, I have heard tales of your many exploits, your reputation precedes you.”
“I am humbled, your highness, believe me when I say that today’s match is nothing personal.”
The princess ignored Sir Falkner’s remark. The only thought on her mind was how the sun’s rays filled her with so much pain. Rhea felt as if she was being scorched alive by searing flames, her skin burning. Was Ishgria ever this hot? The princess thought to herself.
The two combatants sized each other up. For his part, Sir Falkner treated this duel as if it were any other. Maintaining his stance and focusing solely on the princess. Rhea tried her best to reciprocate. She needed to win this duel: to prove herself, for her sake, and for Remuria.
“Honored combatants, are you both ready?” asked a guard as she looked to both fighters for confirmation. Sir Falkner gave a nod, Rhea followed suit.
“Let the duel commence!”
The second the guard finished her sentence, Rhea threw the full might of her blade against Sir Falkner’s with a vengeance. The sound of her blade clashing against the knight’s rang loudly throughout the surrounding area. The princess did not relent, she pressed her advantage and tried to overwhelm the knight’s defenses. Her lightweight armor allowed her to move more aggressively and keep attacking without exhaustion.
All who watched were perplexed as Sir Falkner was forced back by a woman nowhere close to his size. Many cheered on the knight, yet, some among the crowd began to show their support for the princess as well. The king appeared to be completely invested in the fight, his gaze never wandering from the two combatants clashing against one another. The queen, on the other hand, was beyond livid. Loudly scowling and yelling for Sir Falkner to fight back.
The knight was completely absorbed in the heat of the moment, with only the ringing of steel and the sound of his and his opponent's breaths filling his senses. This unwavering focus was one of his strengths, allowing him to hone in solely on the battle and his opponent, disregarding all other distractions. The moment the princess unsheathed her sword, the knight was immediately aware of her proficiency with the sword. Yet, he was still taken aback by the sheer weight and power behind each of the princess’s strikes. It was as though she possessed the strength of a minotaur, rather than what could be expected from someone of her size.
Rhea was determined to end the duel swiftly, she felt her strength draining with each passing moment under the scorching sun. The princess did not know why the sun’s rays seemed to despise her, yet, she had no time to dwell on it. Determined to defeat Sir Falkner, she relentlessly attacked him with her sword. But the seasoned knight expertly countered and evaded each strike. It was apparent that, despite Rhea's supernatural boon, Sir Falkner still held a significant advantage in experience and skill as a fighter.
As time passed, Rhea's movements grew increasingly uncoordinated. Her once swift strikes now dragging, her footing unsteady, her grip on her sword slipping with each passing moment. The spectators, lost in the thrill of the battle, remained oblivious to the subtle changes taking place. But for Sir Falkner, it was clear: the princess was tiring, and victory was within his grasp. He bided his time, waiting for the perfect moment to launch a decisive counterattack.
Soon, the opportunity Sir Falkner had been waiting for came. The princess made a swing with her blade, which while not exactly sloppy, was not the best strike she could have done. The knight parried Rhea’s sword, then threw his full body weight against the princess to knock her back. The princess stumbled, and in that moment, Sir Falkner thrust his sword into the princess’s stomach. Rhea dropped to her knees, clutching at the blade wedged in her body.
"Forgive me, Your Highness. Duty calls, and I had no choice in the matter." Sir Falkner's voice was heavy with regret as he knelt beside the princess, bowing his head in a show of deference.
“I.. know-” were the only words the princess could muster before she began to cough out blood.
The crowd who had been cheering the entire time suddenly fell silent. They looked towards the king for a signal as to how they should react. King Hadaron had a solemn look on his face, his eyes staring blankly at his dying daughter. Queen Phaedra, surprisingly, did not give out much of a reaction at all. She had thought that the death of her daughter would bring her joy, yet, she felt nothing. Out of all who watched the duel, Remuria was the only one to drop to her knees and cry.
Rhea’s consciousness was quickly fading. Yet, she still managed to take a glance at Remuria. Her attendant was weeping, crying out her name. The princess wished she could comfort her trusted servant, Remuria had done much for her. She was someone precious to the princess, someone who was always there, who would always be ready to help, someone who would actually weep if she were to disappear.
Rhea: Princess of Ishgria, dead at the hand of the venerable Sir Falkner, greatest of the Ishgrian Knights. Not the worst way to go, the princess thought to herself. Sir Falkner had been an honorable and worthy opponent. At the very least, he seemed to show her more respect than most of the nobility who seemed eager to watch her fall.
As Sir Falkner took out the blade wedged in her. Rhea collapsed to the hard ground. The last thing she saw was Remuria with her hands to her face, unable to bear seeing the princess wounded in such a way. Rhea wondered what Remuria saw in her. In Rhea’s mind, she was nothing but a rejected princess, someone who struggled to gain even the smallest modicum of approval from her parents. She had dedicated most of her time to bettering herself, driven by selfish ambition and a desperate need to prove herself. But now, she was nothing, a dead princess, fading away into oblivion.