He had passed his morality test with flying colors. The boy was going to be taught in the sword, and his family will be spared a harsh death at the hands of winter. And Sylvester smiled homely at remembering the boy’s excitement and admiration. He anticipated that this boy would be destined for greatness if Nimuë had not ordained it herself. “Yes, he was very happy to know that he was going to live up to his father.”
The boy’s eyes spoke of a flame that he, as king, wasn’t going to let fade. “I ponder the extent to which the boy will find greatness, but I eagerly await his results.” He fell asleep thereafter, letting the warmth of his wife soothe him to sleep.
Come morning, Arina’s whisper rustled him gently to consciousness as her silhouette exited the room. He kept himself in bed at first, seeing as it was merely only first light, but understanding that he had business to attend to early in the morning, he couldn’t afford to stay in bed any longer. However, the king couldn’t exactly wage war on an empty stomach.
He sat up in his bed, and a knock was heard. He looked over and called out, “Come in.”
The door opened, and it was Lyoka. She stepped in, and curtsied. “My Lord, your breakfast is ready.”
He nodded, accepting the information, “Good. I’ll be down to eat momentarily. Additionally, send word to my warmaster to meet me in the War Hall after breakfast.”
“Yes my Lord,” Lyoka curtsied once more and left to go fulfill her order.
All the while, Sylvester had prepared himself for the day; dressing himself to fit the weather and occasion. He walked down to breakfast, and took his place at the table. He looked over the morning’s food, and nodded in firm appreciation. Thus, he tore into it.
And then, in came Arina. She asked what was good to eat, kissing his cheek all the same. He said, “Ham, and some other food packed with enough stuff to keep us fed through the winter.”
“Sweetheart, would you be available today to do some sword fighting with me? If not, I can find one of the knights and do it with them.”
Odd question for sure, but one that wasn’t unfounded. Afterall, this entire arrangement was made to ensure their two kingdoms don’t immediately fall into war. Her family saw combat as something to be admired while his own feared it; seeing it as only a last resort. But before he could even begin his sentence, he saw his wife rush off. Lyoka was just entering the room, and looked to him for an answer. Unfortunately, he never had one. The truth of the matter, remaining ever-so-hidden.
She came back thirty or so minutes later, and reassured his worries. “What I was going to say was that I would test you, but I have some affairs that require my attention.” He left it at that, and breakfast progressed on.
But the time came when he and Warmaster Yarrick were to discuss war.
Sylvester stood beside the table, and leaned on it. He stared at the changed pieces, and then asked his warmaster with some manner of concern. “How much did we lose?”
The older gentleman stared at the table, and then up at Sylvester. He took a minute to process the amount lost, and the amount recovered. “We recovered five weeks worth of supplies, compared to the amount we could’ve had. Over half of the supplies destined for Edon were taken or destroyed. I suspect that if we send out another caravan, they will be attacked.”
Sylvester thought about securing these caravans with armed assailants. However, Warmaster Yarrick advised that it would be setting ourselves up for potential attacks from other groups looking to get a quick meal. So, he came to the only conclusion he could in this scenario. “Do not send another one. Our blades are thin at the moment, with the Tithe approaching. I cannot risk any of our plans being foiled at this rate. We will make it work.”
Sylvester was no stranger to scarcity, and even in these finer moments it still rears its head.
“Yes my Lord,” Yarrick looked over his king quietly, as if examining him. “Are we to maintain our current lodgings?”
Sylvester nodded dutifully, “Without break. The Tithe is most important as of right now.”
Yarrick nodded, bowed, and then took his leave at that.
Sylvester turned away, and stepped over to the window. He spotted his wife swordfighting the knights, and her showing skill amongst the gentlemen. He smiled softly, knowing full well that she was no mere damsel. He watched on with an amused expression.
From there, evening came.
Dinner was quaint, especially considering that Rhana was invited to this dinner as a show of appreciation. Sylvester thought it would be nice to do so as Rhana viewed her as a coveted member of the Queen’s Entourage. Being the first member, Sylvester saw it as symbolic rather than anything to the contrary. Arina, starting the conversation right said:
“Dear you should have been outside this afternoon watching me sword fight with Knight James and Knight Matthew. I started out fighting with Knight James and then Knight Matthew took over with him and ended up winning so he had to fight me. I won that match because Knight Matthew let me win. I think I would have won if he had not given up. When do you think you will be able to sword fight with me dear?”
“When you can defeat Sir Lancelot in a duel my love,” he said pointedly. He saw her skill first hand, and knew that she would have to be really tested before she could stand before him in combat. “Of course, when you do succeed in besting Lancelot, you will be the talk of the kingdom.”
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