--- The Mage girl

The young Mage sped up her pace. She didn't want to be late for the tournament, which was scheduled for that very morning in a freshly-built arena outside the walls of Cassidia.

While she had never been to an event of that kind, the girl had heard so many things about it the last few days that she could barely hold back her curiosity. It wasn't excitement, she repeated to herself as she trailed along with two other representatives of the Circle, only good old academic interest. As a person who liked studying way more than participating in those mundane activities, the Mage was pretty surprised of how the tournament had captured her attention since its announcement.

Was it because the prize was the hand of the princess, the girl she wanted to meet so much? Or maybe because there were supposed to be brave fighters from all around the Kingdom, showing off their skills? The girl shook her head. That day she planned to witness, not to have fun.

I even brought a book on refractive barriers with me, even if I didn't have the permit. Should things get overly boring... At least I'll have it covered.

Still, a small part of her secretly hoped that tome wouldn't have been needed.

***

The girl and her colleagues took around a hour to reach the arena, just as planned, and then went ahead separately. She had been reserved a seat just above a group of members of the court, from what it seemed, but the other Mages expressed the will to watch the tournament from another angle. It was clear it was just an excuse, especially for someone who knew them, as nobles weren't exactly considered good company by the affiliates of the Circle and that also worked the other way around, more often than not.

I'll have to see the entire thing on my own. Not that it makes a big difference, given how little interaction we had on the road. Still, they could at least have told me in advance. I would have brought two books instead of just one.

In the ranks of the magic users it was considered good costume to keep your thoughts for yourself, in order to hold every emotion in check. The young Mage, however, had yet to fully understand the meaning of that part. Manipulating the Arcane could cause joy and frustration equally, from her point of view. There was no way acting like stoic rocks and barely talking to each other was supposed to help with the training. In the end it was all a matter of efficiency, as her master would say. A matter of discipline.

Shrugging off those thoughts, the girl proceeded along the tournament grounds. The building was temporary, yet surprisingly big, probably because of the importance of that day's event. A gathering of noble warriors wasn't something you would see so often, after all.

A purple shimmer, made more apparent by the usual itchy feeling, brought the eyes of the young Mage to the very base of the wooden stands.

Security wards. The masters must have put them all around the perimeter to be sure that nobody could cross unnoticed. I wonder if these strict measures are really necessary... Well, at least everyone will be able to enjoy the competition without a care in the world.

While looking for her seat, she instinctively glanced at the platform where the King and the most important members of the court were supposed to be. Lord Darius, one of the most prominent advocates against having representatives of the Circle inside the palace, was already there.

That man always gets on my nerves. The Archmage told me he is just a very concerned politician, but it's no secret he doesn't like our kind. I believe he fears us, for some reason. As long as His Majesty rules, however, we have nothing to fear. King Sebastian values Mages and is a good friend of the tower.

Anyway, it was no big deal. The girl's duties didn't include interacting with Darius, and she couldn't ask for more.

***

It took another hour for everyone to arrive, and when the arena was finally full an announcer appeared, introducing the King and his daughter. Princess Elise entered alongside her father, dressed in an elegant yet somewhat sober blue dress, much less flashy than the ones most noblewomen would use. The young Mage knew from talking with a couple servants that she had grown up in a poor farming village in the distant North, so that had to be the reason behind her lack of ostentation. One of the things that was still unknown to the girl, on the other hand, was the identity of the boy she had seen meeting the princess a few weeks before.

That guy could just be one of her suitors, given the fact that a tournament is being held, but... There's no way he would have entered the palace without any kind of welcoming. He must be something else... Maybe a friend, or a relative?

Then, without really searching, she spotted him. He was sitting way below the place reserved for the royal family. Among the guests, on the farthest side. Near the servants.

He isn't a noble? That's a twist. What was he doing in the gardens, then?

As much as she would have rather avoided it, the girl decided to ask the person on her left, an old man with a flamboyant vest she knew from the palace, if he had a clue about the mysterious boy. The elder, who was of high standing, turned in her direction and immediately showed some of the usual distrust towards Mages when he noticed her attire, but in the end he gave a polite answer.

"All I know is that the princess has a guest inside the palace, a friend of hers," he said. "I don't have a clue what he did to win her favour, but His Majesty himself brought back an ancient honour guard job just for him."

"A honour guard? What is that, my Lord?"

"Some sort of bodyguard, they told me," replied the nobleman. "But there's more. He seems to be a low-born. A complete nobody."

The young Mage thanked him for his courtesy, surprised by his patient reply, and went back to watching. Most people of his standing wouldn't have even bothered talking with someone like her.

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

Whatever. A friend of the princess, huh? How did he even get near her, without a title?

***

--- Elise

The two horsemen clashed together, making the audience roar.

One of them seemed to have put in a solid hit, because his lance was all splintered and his opponent now struggled to remain on his saddle. Moments later, the beaten man yielded, and the winner of that duel was announced.

I couldn't care less of who wins. I couldn't care less.

From where she was, Elise could see the entirety of the arena. Moreover, everyone could see her. No matter where the girl laid her eyes, she would find someone looking and it was unnerving. Thousands of people were there, to witness the product of her decision.

"Did you see that, daughter?" exclaimed King Sebastian. "This knight is very good at handling his lance. Trust me, I used to do a bit of jousting in the old days and... Everything alright?"

"Yes, father," she replied, absentmindedly. "Just tell me when I have to make my choice."

The man sighed, and leaned towards her. "Don't be like that. I told you, just give a chance to the winner to meet you. If you really, really don't like him we'll think about something else."

"Sure, whatever you say, Your Majesty."

He stopped arguing with her, luckily. Elise knew she could refuse to marry, under extreme circumstances, but to be honest she didn't really think she could afford it. Not when she was basically being blackmailed into finding a husband.

The eyes of the girl went to Roric, a small dot in the audience below.

He can't save me, this time. I'd better prepare for the worst.

King Sebastian was a big fan of tournaments, as expected, and had held them many times in the past. While usual competitions among noblemen revolved around jousting on horseback, however, due to his past as a warrior the monarch had always thought the fairest, most rewarding combat was on foot. That was why the final event, the one in which Elise's potential suitor would have been revealed, was a savage melee.

For someone who says we are not barbarians, this is also self-contradictory. Does he plan to select a proper husband for his daughter just by seeing who is the strongest and most capable in the arena?

It was childish, plainly stupid. It made the young princess realize that even his father, a powerful king who was celebrated for his bravery in battle, had huge limitations as a person.

Well, if he wants me to watch, I'll watch. I'm not optimistic, though. Makers, why don't they all stop looking at me?

***

The time of the melee finally came. The twenty partecipants aligned in front of the court, paying their respects from the dusty ground. Elise was impressed by seeing at least four or five young boys she didn't really dislike, but their personality was a different matter.

Not to mention, they don't know me at all.

Once again, she wished for a certain someone to be down there. He would have defeated every single one of them in the blink of an eye, she was sure of it. Or almost sure.

When the trumpets signaled the start of the match, it became immediately clear that not all who were competing were on the same level as the others. Knowing a thing or two on fighting herself, it took little time for the girl to notice that at least half of the warriors weren't warriors at all. In particular, the few she had put all her hopes on were quickly dispatched by more experienced combatants. They were probably just sons of minor Lords, forced to enter the tournament against their will. One of them even dropped his sword in front of the first opponent he met.

Pathetic. To think I was rooting for those wimps...

In truth, one of them had some skill. He was a few years older than Elise, blonde and fairly good-looking. Just from his movements, you could tell he had practiced a lot more than the ones around his same age. The young man had an elegant style, similar to a dance, and swiftly moved from opponent to opponent without any fear.

He seems fine, but... I don't know, looks can be deceiving.

Two other people were also on the rise, but the girl wouldn't really say to be in favor of them. One was an older nobleman, dressed in a disproportionate set of armour, who would take any blow without even flinching. He was probably way stronger than the average competitor, judging from how every target hit by his flanged mace had the tendency to be thrown away, and immediately struck Elise for the raw, impressive power he could count on.

The other one, on the other hand, was gracile and fought cowardly, without holding back any trick and earning some well-deserved booing from time to time. King Sebastian had decided that the rules had to be simple, maybe a bit too simple. Basically, if your shoulders or chest touched the ground you were out. You could use any kind of melee weapon or armour you liked, as long as you didn't kill anyone.

And that man is making a good use of his slim build. How many has he blinded with sand, before tripping them? Three? Four? It's disgusting. I wonder what Roric would think...

Her friend was still sitting below. No matter how hard she tried, Elise didn't remember a single time he had turned around to look at her. Curiously, he of all was probably the only one who hadn't glanced in her direction even once.

Minutes passed, and in the end four finalists remained. Well, three finalists. The trumpets sounded a little too late, and the fourth man didn't have the time to dodge the dangerous mace of the armoured nobleman. Unable to get back up, he was simply carried away by his servants.

"Congratulations, noble Lords," said the King. "Give us your names, if you please."

They stepped forward, one after the other, revealing their identities while Elise held her breath. There, before her concerned eyes, was probably standing her future husband.

"I'm count Frederick, ruler of the Black Island on the eastern coast. Your humble servant, Your Majesty," replied the mace-wielding man.

"He is said to have lost his wife recently," whispered Annette from behind. "In an accident nobody was able to witness. Be careful, princess."

Careful? If that monster of a man wins, I'm turning him down at once. Even without taking into account how he became widowed, he is too old!

"I... I am Victor of Norburg, my liege. Your... Your humble servant, as well," the trickster introduced himself, still panting because of his running around.

"Slime," quickly stated Elise's lady-in-waiting.

Slime.

"And I'm Sir Wilfred, son and heir of Knight Shipmaster Wilson," exclaimed the youngest, and most pleasant, of the three. "Remember this name, princess Elise, for this will be the name of your future!"

The audience cheered and clapped at his introduction, but for some reason the young princess raised an eyebrow. That guy was arrogant, to say the least, and she didn't really like people like him.

Still, I don't have any higher hope...

"Beware, Your Majesty," murmured Lady Annette. "Of all, you must absolutely refuse to meet him. His family has tried multiple times to achieve more power by any conventional and unconventional means. Someone still says they were among the ones who turned against your father years ago."

"They were?" asked Elise, careful that the King wasn't listening, "Damn it, then it's just a matter of choosing the least worst among them. If only there were four fighters, at least..."

Then, a crazy idea began ringing inside her head. It was a really, really crazy idea.

Still... What if it worked? It might be a good chance to show everyone a glimpse of the real me.

The girl didn't have anything to lose anymore. She had been forced into that unpleasant situation and intended to come out as the one true winner, no matter how. And at that moment, there was only a single way she could. She had to enter the tournament herself.

"Father," she said. "Can I have a word?"