I stiffened and squeezed Guinevere’s hand. “Perhaps it would be best if you cleared things up with Prince Arthur, I have to say hello to an old friend.”
My senses had just picked up on two familiar scents. One was months ago in my memory, but I’d been with her for months, so it was burned into my memory the other I had smelled much more recently. I carefully moved through the crowd avoiding Ammerila and Lady Kira. I looked different now than when the two woman had seen my face but there was no use taking chances. I had some defining scars across my face that might jog their memory a bit too much for my liking.
Weaving through the crowd I found a corner and waited there. I could see Lady Kira from where I was, but she couldn’t see me, Ammerila was with Guinevere now for some reason and I worried for her for a bit. I pushed my fear to the side even Ammerila wouldn’t be stupid enough to try something in front of all these people, though she might try something later.
No, the Assassin wasn’t the main thing I was worried about, I knew the viper, what I was concerned about was the cockroach. Lady Kira was all smiles, a group of men around her and I could feel her pulling their strings like a puppet master. It wasn’t an ability she was using it was just a beautiful woman with no scruples or self-worth using her body to get whatever she wanted. She had seen my face many times and if she had tried to assassinate Guinevere that meant she worked for Merlin.
If Kira spotted me and reported it to Merlin, my entire plan would come crumbling down around me. There was only one thing to do, kill her before she could. I watched as she excused herself and left the ballroom. I followed at a discreet distance, and she entered a lady’s powder room. I could feel through tremor sense she was the only one in the room. I entered the room, and she turned around seeing a man her expression clouded with anger.
“What do you think…” she began her face showing no signs she’d recognized me yet.
Claws tore through her neck and her eyes widened in horror as she collapsed to the ground. “Hell-Dragon’s Armory,” I said.
I looked down at her cooling corpse as I merged it into the stone floor. I wiped my face with my cleansing cloth and brushed off my outfit removing the blood and stepped out into the hall. No cry of alarm came up as I strolled back into the ballroom as if nothing had happened.
“Sir Ismael,” I heard a familiar female voice call out.
I turned to see Lionor gracefully moving through the crowd towards me.
“I see you were able to attend,” she said smiling at me.
“Are you pissed at me too?” I asked.
“Contrary to what you may believe,” Lionor said. “I don’t want Arthur to marry Guinevere, but it is what must be done.”
“Doesn’t it anger you?” I asked cocking my head to the side as I examined her.
“Does what anger me?” Lionor asked.
“That you’ll never have all his heart, that there will always be competition for his love?” I asked.
“Arthur is a great man,” Lionor said her tone full of adoration though I did detect a bit of melancholy. “I never thought he would be mine alone.”
“And does that not bother you?” I asked. “Wouldn’t your rather take someone else who would give you all he had rather than the scraps from someone else?”
“Sometimes the scraps are worth more than the table of someone else,” Lionor said shrugging. “Arthur is the greatest warrior in our world. Being even a part of his story will make me a legend one day, he’s like the sun; is it less warm just because it shines on everyone else and not just you?”
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“Do you know what inflation is?” I asked her.
“I’m not sure,” Lionor said. “It sounds familiar, but I don’t recall exactly what it is.”
“Basically, it boils down to this, the more of something you have the less each one is worth,” I said. “Your like that to Arthur, I’m sure he values you but the more women he collects the less he can value each one of you as individuals. There is already another woman in this room he’s slept with and let us be honest with eachother, its not going to stop at her.”
“Excuse me,” a cold feminine voice said behind me, and I saw the color drain from Lionor’s face. “You’ve already slept with one of my men I appreciated it if you wouldn’t try it again.”
Lionor fled into the crowd.
“That was a bit harsh,” I said. “I think she genuinely loves Arthur; I don’t think it was some scheme on her part to usurp you.”
“Motive doesn’t matter so much when the outcome is the same,” Guinevere said taking my arm in hers. “I feel exposed here, what did you have to do?”
“Lady Kira was here,” I whispered in her ear.
Guinevere’s body stiffened and I felt her fingers tight on my arm. “Where is she?” she asked, her voice like a knife.
“She won’t bother you ever again,” I assured her. “I’m concerned about the Assassin, she’s seen my face before, I had a beard at the time, but she might recognize me.”
“The dances will begin soon,” Guinevere whispered back to me. “Everyone will wear masks then.”
We moved through the crowd always moving so there was a crowd of people in-between Ammerila and me. I could feel Arthur trying to move towards us, but he was slowed by the crowd of people all wanting to speak to him. Guinevere and I walked unbothered. Whenever someone tried to talk to us, I glowered at them, and they scurried off like frightened rabbits.
The music changed and people began putting on masks. I hadn’t bothered to bring a mask but with a quick whisper I activated Hell-Dragon’s armory and fashioned a half mask to cover the scars over my face phantom of the opera style.
“Let’s dance,” Guinevere said.
“You sure you want to draw even more attention on us?” I asked.
“I don’t know if that’s even possible,” Guinevere said pulling me along onto the floor.
The crowd parted for us as I took her hand and waist in my hand. The music took on a fast pace and our feet moved in a fast rhythm as she followed my lead.
“I see you remembered the dances I taught you,” Guinevere said.
I lifted her into the air spinning her up and around before setting her down lightly, an easy feat for someone at my Rank.
“We had a lot of time to practice,” I said. “I miss those days sometimes.”
“Me too,” Guinevere said leaning her head against my chest.
We were silent for the next few minutes as the song played out. It slowly wound to a halt; Guinevere’s eyes met mine as I spun her in my arms. We bent and swayed in time to the music and for a moment I forgot my fears of being discovered and the fact I was surrounded by my enemies.
“Your stepping out of your place knight,” Arthur said breaking me from my spell.
“I’m exactly where I need to be,” I responded not turning to face him.
“I should challenge you to a duel for your disrespect,” Arthur said.
“I only fight to the death,” I responded. “You should ask Lord Tarrence how that worked out for him.”
I turned around and saw Arthur raise his eyebrows. “Are you threatening me?” he asked.
“That depends,” I responded. “Are you challenging me to a duel.”
“I want to,” Arthur said, and I could see the truth of that in his eyes. “There is something about you personally not just your actions that…angers me.”
“I understand completely,” I said.
“If you do make it through the tourney, I will look forward to facing you on the field,” Arthur said. “Will you make that a duel to the death if it happens I wonder?”
“When that happens,” I said. “I believe you will be the one who makes it a matter of life and death.”
Arthur looked puzzled then shook his head. “It’s clear you don’t want to be here Guinevere; my father doesn’t approve of your antics but I’ve approved them. If this is how you feel you need to rebel, then so be it. I shall prove myself against your champion if he prevails. The two of you are free to leave whenever you want.”
Arthur turned his back on me, and I resisted the urge within myself to attack him. That time would come soon enough.
“Let’s go,” I said to Guinevere.
She and I left the ballroom. I wanted to kiss her goodbye but all I could do was bow over her hand my lips brushing over the back of it. She walked away and I watched her until she passed around a bend in the hall. I turned around to leave the Palace and froze. A man in mixture of black and silver robes and armor stood before me holding a black gnarled staff with a glowing crystal.
Merlin the Mage of Camelot, Gifted- humanoid/human, Exarch, Rank: 1974
While I had technically faced someone of higher rank before, only Karnen’s transformation into a Guardian Spirit had let me survive that.
“Come with me Sir Ismael,” Merlin said. “I would like to talk to you about my daughter.”
His tone implied it wasn’t a question.
“Of course, my lord,” I said preparing myself for a different kind of battle.