The color of Divinity I - The delusion of reality

The color of Divinity
By Ellnyon

Notes and warnings
Again, sorry for the delay. I wanted to post when my exams ended, but real life is a bitch and I couldn’t due to my part-time job and a few personal problems. Anyhow, I finally got some free time this weekend but I think I’m in a deep, deep slump: I’m not really inspired to write with everything that’s happening and as a consequence this chapter isn’t one of my best… Really, it seems like he just didn’t want to be written… And that’s a pity because I was very excited to get to this part and I really wanted to write it well. Oh well, thanks for putting up with me, anyway…

YACUMO: Either Edyane, Delaen’niel or Ryaen’ne are handsome princes, I guess it would be nice if he ended up with one of them…:D But believe me, everything can still happen in this story…so, please keep reading and reviewing. I’ll do my best not to disappoint. Thanks for the feedback.

Phade: Wow, thank you so much. I felt really flattered when I read your review. And even if I think you’re exaggerating, I pray that one day I’ll be able to correspond to your words and prove them true. Until then, I’ll keep doing my best and hope you keep following and liking my story until the end. Once more, a million thanks for your feedback and your comments. They mean the world to me…

Deepest thanks to all the readers, especially those who review and rate. You know, your feedback is always highly appreciated.
Enjoy your reading.


Previously in TCD: It’s very uncommon for an Ethen to marry outside of his country. Still, Meanea Guinare, a noble Ethen came to N’Alaera to do so with its king: Fenaleos. Iadden, Meanea’s younger Eth brother, favours this marriage for their family’s sake. He’s at odds with N’Alaera’s prince, Edyane, who’s infatuated with Meanea and is against the wedding. Also Iadden’s tutor, Mieri, is plotting a way to stop the marriage so he can claim the Guinare’s heritage. No one knows that he’s in fact their bastard uncle and was already responsible for their parents’ deaths. If this wasn’t enough, Meya’s second prince has been meeting in secret with the Death Whisperers’ race who are about to ignite a war against the North Alliance that same week. He has promised them the life or the support of the recently found Dark-haired Ethen of the Legends, in exchange for Meya’s crown. Unaware of all this and unbelieving in an incoming war, N’Alaera’s people continue the joyful celebrations of the wedding in a Tournament held in Meanea’s honour. But the early arrival of Meya’s first and third prince brought with it a whole new set of revelations: Meya and Crano’en are marching for war in a week and the Dark-haired Ethen has chosen a Maguenta’s Heir to lead them: Iadden Guinare…


Part I
Chapter 11

“It is not usual, for us Eths, to put youths under fifteen as part of our armies, even if they’re good fighters and we start training as toddlers. But the Maguenta’s High Priests convinced the Council that Iadden is a special case. They believe he’s fated to lead us on this war. Long story made short, they have the Dark-haired Ethen in their temple and they say that Iadden is the Maguenta’s heir.”

“What?! I am no such thing!” Iadden’s shriek wasn’t heard due to the happy song of the trumpets, but no one seemed to have heard them either. They all remained as statues, very still and quiet in their idiotic stupor. Iadden frowned, angry and desperate as he saw every face finally turn. In his direction. All the eyes on the room were on him… He panicked. No, not again. He didn’t want to be the centre of attentions, again. He was supposed to lead the Alliance’s army? Was that what the prince was saying? That he was supposed to go to war and lead them all against the greatest enemy in the world? He felt like shouting; felt like laughing; felt like…he didn’t know what he felt like doing. He just knew he didn’t believe in any of this. It had to be a stupid joke. Only he had never heard Delaen’niel joke before. And, certainly, not about something as big and important as this.

A millennium war. Fought by him. Him and an army he was supposed to lead. A war everyone expected them to win. For all the North countries’ sake and safety… Him? Nine-year-old Iadden Guinare. A child almost every Eth’s golden standards deemed imperfect, wild and inconsequential. He had only one explanation for this: the High Priests had become insane and they had passed the disease on to the Council. It had to be! Who in their right mind expected him to guide an army of Eths who ignored and laughed at him? They would never listen to a word he said…And what would he tell them, anyway? Okay, so what if he had memorized every book related to war and strategy in the Meya’s High Temple Library? So what if he hadn’t yet encountered a spell he couldn’t perform or conjure? He was nine years old. He couldn’t be that good, could he? Good enough to win a war so terrible he had only heard about it while whispered in the temples? A war between Gods… So, was he chosen by Maguenta? Was that what the High Priests had declared? What the Dark-haired Ethen had told them? And who was this Ethen anyway? He had never heard of him. Did he realize he might have doomed them all with this nonsense? He turned to Ryaen’ne. He looked angry. At what, he didn’t know.

“But Iadden is only a child…” Fenaleos declared, his voice haunted.

“The first Maguenta’s heir was only a child, as well.” The calm voice of Quera reminded. Iadden turned to him. He didn’t believe it, did he? The pale-haired young man smiled softly, apparently divining his thoughts. “I knew there was something special about you. You’re not a common Eth lord.” He said reverently. Iadden’s mind was blank. What?!

“What are you implying? That you believe my Cousin is actually the Maguenta’s Heir?” Ryaen’ne asked, stupefied. Quera looked at him and merely nodded. Seeing the abashed look on the blond Siekih lord’s face, he explained his certainties.

“It is perhaps not obvious to you who knew him all your life, but to someone who doesn’t… you can’t deny there’s something in Lord Iadden which screams power, intelligence and trust.” He said simply. Then he smirked and looked at Iadden with amused eyes. “Besides, I never saw anyone confront N’Alaera’s prince like you do…” Iadden huffed. He couldn’t believe Prince Edyane’s best friend actually thought that he, of all people, was the Maguenta’s Heir. A rich and calm voice sounded from behind the human teenager.

“I agree with my son. The fourth Maguenta’s Heir was equally an Eth. And Milord Iadden did appear in N’Alaera in time to lead the Alliance’s army…if we are to assume the war is really coming, of course.” The middle-aged advisor with short brown hair, beard and cold teal eyes affirmed with a composed expression. He had a wise but stern appearance to him and Iadden recalled him to be Count Behevoir, Quera’s father. Only the eyes gave him away, though Iadden could tell that Quera had inherited his calm and wise personality as well. Still, he didn’t quite know what to make of the noble’s words. Fenaleos looked like he did, however.

“Is your Council really sure of what you tell me?” He asked Delaen’niel. At the prince’s self-assured nod, he continued. ”And what do you think of all this? Please, be honest.” Delaen’niel didn’t answer right away, what seemed to please the king. That he was pondering on his words revealed that the Eth didn’t just blindly believe the Priests’ words. That he was actually using his own intelligence to interpret them.

“I believe the war is really happening and that we can’t pretend it has nothing to do with us. We have to prepare our defences.” He said confident. Fenaleos nodded. Iadden did too. Then Delaen’niel turned to the latter. “About Iadden…he’s not a normal Eth. He has never been, in any way…” He affirmed nonchalant and paused in thought. Iadden crossed his arms at his chest. What did the prince mean with that? “You see, I believe a regular Eth could never lead an army with other races, mainly because we’re too exigent and arrogant. We would demand too much in terms of physical strength and power, but we wouldn’t be able to give the psychological support needed for the other races to achieve them. An Eth is cold and serene by nature and even exhaustively trained to be as such. Humans and others are not. But that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re weak. They just have other kinds of strength. Probably even more powerful ones. Ones that appear when they are most needed. We need a leader that can pinpoint and understand those strengths and use them to the greater good. Iadden has always been good in that. He treats everyone with kindness, honesty and respect. The most insignificant soldier but also the better fighter will try harder and achieve higher with that kind of attitude coming from someone greater than them. And we can’t deny that Iadden has a strong character, beside the fact, of course, that he can knock out our most experienced knight with three sword strikes…” The small Guinare Lord had been listening with awe but now he huffed, his closed fists again on his narrow hips.

”I’m a child lord. He let me win to boost my confidence in my skills…” he affirmed in a childlike tone. Ryaen’ne’s hand griped his shoulder tightly.

“That was what we spread in order to protect you from duels and exposure.” His blond cousin answered in a low voice. Iadden blinked and looked at Athios, who nodded slightly in agreement and then bowed his head, silently apologizing for his lie. Iadden turned, once more, to Delaen’niel, who had resumed his speech, unsure of what to do or think…

“I don’t know if Iadden is the Maguenta’s Heir or not, and fortunately that isn’t my decision to make, but if I for one hand share in Ryaen’ne’s concerns for his safety and well-being, because for all purposes, he is still too young and impulsive; on the other hand I won’t hide that I completely trust Iadden’s personality and magic to not betray or let us down on difficult times. I wish I could say the same from every one of my generals…”

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In the end, Iadden thought retrospectively, he supposed he should feel privileged he ranked so high in his prince and peers’ consideration. If someone had told him that, he surely wouldn’t have believed it. Still, he couldn’t feel but scared and anxious at what was expected from him and what it meant to be a legendary Knight. He had so many questions about this entire war and his role in it and a Dark-haired Ethen very few selected people had apparently heard about before… But what worried him more than all this was his brother’s reaction when he found out. Meanea would be against his parting to war. And the prospect of losing yet another important person, especially one he had expected to protect for at least a few more years, would devastate the Ethen…again… He turned back to look at his beautiful brother. Everyone had agreed to delay the discussion about that subject to a later time and enjoy the Tournament for now. So, they had returned to the stands in the Arena as if nothing major was happening. Some managed to mask their anxiety very well, others didn’t exactly believe in the tragedy ahead. Either way, the desired effect was the same. And one thing was certain: this event would possibly be one of the last they could appreciate while in peace. And that’s exactly what they were going to do while they could. Of course his brother was still a bit suspicious, but at everyone’s apparent serenity and Fenaleos’ insistence that nothing was wrong and that he should just take pleasure in the festivities, Meanea was starting to finally relax. The king seemed to have the power to calm Meanea, what was definitely a good thing. Iadden was glad he had his mask, because there was no way his expressive eyes wouldn’t give his worries away. A sudden soft grip on his left hand made the small Guinare lord look at his Ethen cousin. Midaen’niel, sitting next to him and staring straight ahead, didn’t turn, but his previous small gesture of support revealed that he knew more than Iadden had thought. He made a mental note to talk to his cousin later. Because right now, he couldn’t speak about his doubts and he wanted to pay attention to the Tournament in order to evaluate N’Alaera’s knights’ real strength in battle.

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They had arrived just as the judges were rising to declare the beginning of the contest. Their senior was ending his speech about the rules and the purpose of the current tourney and they were right in time to hear him greet and welcome Meanea to N’Alaera and wish him the best in his new country. Meanea rose from his seat and bowed in thanks. The whole Arena cheered and everyone hurried to their seats, apparently putting their prior conversation out of their minds, for the moment. The judge bowed and then began to announce the participants of the competition one by one, amidst the occasional bursts of applause from the audience.

“So, how does this Tournament thing work?” Ryaen’ne asked out loud with a good humoured voice, to anyone who wanted to answer. Iadden’s cousin, being an Eth, knew how to disguise his fears well. Only someone very keen would identify the faintest strain in his voice.

“You see the crests in the panel above the judges’ seats?” Quera, who had been appointed as the Eths’ official guide while they remained in N’Alaera’s capitol, asked the Siekih Lord. Ryaen’ne nodded, while looking in the mentioned direction. There were three crests on top of the panel and under each of them various coats of arms. “They represent the categories of the tourney. In this particular Tournament there are three categories. As you can probably figure out by the crests’ designs: Sword & Shield, Double Weapon and Free-form.” Quera explained calmly. “The coats of arms under the crests represent the knights participating.” Ryaen’ne nodded again.

“I see. So…your prince is entering in Sword & Shield and Free-form classes. Or is there anyone else from the royal family participating?” He asked. Delaen’niel looked at the pale-haired human interested as well.

“No, just Edyane…” The Behevoir heir confirmed.

“Is he really that good of a fighter?” Meya’s prince asked.

“The best in N’Alaera.” Quera affirmed certain. “I’d be surprised if he didn’t win in both classes.” Ryaen’ne arched a golden eyebrow at the blond human’s conviction.

“We’ll see about that. What about you? Are you merely an advisor or just didn’t feel like participating?” He asked. Quera sighed, looking annoyed at the third prince.

“The latter…” He eventually answered, staring ahead again. ”I don’t like battling for fun or fame.” The young Siekih lord scoffed and shook his short golden hair away from his eyes.

“Sounds like a lame excuse to me. I’d participate in every tourney if I could…” Quera glared at him and Delaen’niel huffed.

“Fortunately not everyone is a fool like you…” he admonished and Ryaen’ne scoffed once more. “It might amaze you Ryaen’ne, but some people actually think before putting themselves in harm’s way…” he continued while looking sideways at the third prince. “Please, don’t mind my cousin, Lord Quera; he’s well known among us Eths for his foolishness in battle. You could probably beat him in a fair, non-magical fight.” Quera arched his eyebrows in surprise. Ryaen’ne straightened, outraged.

“I’d like to see that!” He said, staring heatedly at both. Quera gazed at the handsome blue-eyed Eth, still a little stunned by his unusual manners. Delaen’niel looked at his cousin, unfazed.

“The last time you said that, you fought Lnorien and got a broken wrist that still hasn’t healed, as a reward...”

“He reprimanded me!”

“Because you’re an idiot. Who, in their right mind, would fight an adult mountain dragon alone?”

“I’m alive, am I not?”

“Because Lnorien got to you in time and cast a healing spell on you.”

“I was just resting! Besides, I wasn’t that hurt...”

“Oh, please…”

Quera looked back and forth at the two cousins and chuckled, extremely amused. It reminded him of his own discussions with Edyane and Tenaii. And he knew, due to his own experience, that they only fought like that because they worried about each other. At his badly contained laughter, the two Eths turned to him with interrogative expressions.

“You’re really a very uncommon Eth, aren’t you, Lord Siekih?” Ryaen’ne glared at the human. He was about to give a nasty remark but Delaen’niel beat him to it.

“That is an understatement...” The blue-eyed Eth turned to his prince, a displeased frown gracing his features. Quera nodded, smirking.

“I know the type: arrogant, impulsive, reckless…” he affirmed, amused. Ryaen’ne crossed his arms tightly and narrowed his eyes in antipathy at the blond human. “But, they make for the most loyal and trustworthy of friends, don’t they?” Quera concluded with a serious soft smile.

The two Eths looked at him with wide eyes and then silently turned to stare ahead to the knights aligning on the Arena ground. Delaen’niel was smiling softly while Ryaen’ne was frowning.

“Don’t insult and compliment me at the same time…” He mumbled. “It confuses me.” The other two looked at each other and smirked.

“Just proves how much of an idiot you are...” The prince remarked, amused as well.

“Thanks…” Ryaen’ne huffed but he was smiling as well. A few moments later he got bored with the contest’s protocol of presenting the various knights and turned to Quera once more with his candid smile in place. Quera decided he liked that smile. Ryaen’ne was a gorgeous man. It wasn’t a surprise. Every Eth had an innate grace to him. It’s just that he had seen the young Siekih Lord display so many emotions that day. Positive emotions like affection and concern. He didn’t quite believe he could be one of the cold and powerful Eth nobles people usually referred to. Meya’s prince too, seemed to be a good person, even if he was a touch too cold. But, Ryaen’ne was definitely special. And Quera had no troubles in being surprised when the surprise was a good one.

“So...Sword & Shield means they fight with a sword and shield, right? What about the others?” the golden haired Eth asked.

“In Double weapon the competitors can’t use a shield or any means of defence. Not even armour. That’s why Edyane is not participating, because his father forbade him from fighting without chain mail. And they have to use a combination of two weapons. In Free-form they fight as they like with what they like. Every weapon and defence is allowed as long as it doesn’t involve magic or animals. Every category is fought on foot, no horses or other animals allowed into this tourney. In the end, the three finalists will fight among themselves to find the ultimate winner of the Tournament.” Quera answered.

“And the prize?” Ryaen’ne enquired once more.

“A Golden Statue to commemorate the event and a large sum of gold piec-“ A standing, loud ovation by the crowd shut the teal-eyed human’s mouth into silence. The two Eths turned to the Arena to see a tall, imposing figure entering the Arena’s grounds mounted in a brilliant dark-brown stallion. The dark-skinned human travelled the Arena’s length while waving at the people applauding him. He wore no armour and his muscled chest was bare. Only dressed in mounting pants, tall boots and a red cape flowing behind him, he resembled a great warrior of a distant era. On both sides of his horse two enormous black axes with silver runes were strapped. He was clearly participating in the Double weapon’s class.

“Humph! What a show-off…” Quera mumbled. Ryaen’ne turned to him, an eyebrow arched.

“The people love him and he does seem like a fearsome knight. Friend of yours?” he asked, interested. Quera scoffed.

“That is Marquis Ruana’s second son and N’Alaera’s second best knight: Tenaii Ruana. If I’m Edyane’s right hand, Tenaii’s his left.” Ryaen’ne nodded.

“I see…” he commented. “He seems to be looking for something on the noble’s grandstands…or someone…” Quera focused his gaze in Tenaii’s form. In fact, he had stopped his horse in his determined place among the other knights facing the North stands and his dark, dark eyes were searching the referred seats for someone. They stopped in a particular row and the dark-skinned man seemed to frown.

“Isn’t he looking at your family’s places?” Delaen’niel asked, casual. Quera’s teal eyes widened. Ryaen’ne hummed, nodding.

“Yes, cousin, you are right. Maybe he’s looking for you, Lord Quera. After all, you would be sitting there if we hadn’t asked you to stay with us up here, wouldn’t you?” The golden-haired Eth said in a gentle baritone, finding the outlines of Quera’s father and sister on the mentioned area. Quera turned to him alarmed by his tone and words and saw a strange glint in Ryaen’ne’s dark blue eyes.

“W-well, yes, but...why would he do that?” he stuttered, suddenly upset. What was the Eth implying?

“Well, I don’t know. In Meya, a knight searches for his Promised one’s encouragement when he’s about to enter a fight, isn’t that right, Delaen’niel?” The long-haired Eth prince merely nodded his head, matter-of-factly. Quera glared at the dark-blue eyed Eth.

“Well, we don’t have that custom nor do we have Promised ones like you do.” The teal-eyed human answered somewhat harshly. Ryaen’ne smirked.

“I know that. What I meant was that perhaps that knight was searching for the approval of the one he likes. And that’s maybe a pale-haired, teal-eyed human beauty…” Quera took some precious seconds to realize that the human beauty Ryaen’ne referred to was him. Then he straightened, furious at the patient Eth’s smirking face.

“You’re quite fast in jumping to conclusions about matters you know nothing about, aren’t you?” He replied. Ryaen’ne shrugged and his grin got wider.

“Just typical of my arrogant, impulsive and reckless self, I’m afraid.” Quera huffed in frustration. That man was getting on his nerves.

“I hate to agree with my cousin on anything, but it seems Lord Ruana is effectively looking this way, now.” Delaen’niel affirmed, implying Tenaii had indeed been searching for him and ending the other two’s discussion. Quera looked at Tenaii and their eyes met. The dark-skinned human smiled while slightly inclining his head in greetings. Quera did the same. Ryaen’ne smirked.

“It seems I’m not wrong all the time…” he commented in an even baritone without looking at the pale-haired human. Quera didn’t reflect on what he was about to do. In fact he didn’t think at all. Not even on the fact that his action was way out of his character. His hand just naturally flew, hitting the short-haired Eth’s shoulder in a swift movement. He realized it shortly afterwards. It hadn’t been a hurtful hit. Many could interpret it as a playful touch. But just the thought of having lost control of himself bothered Quera to an extent he didn’t like to admit. Ryaen’ne seemed to rob him of his rational thinking.

“Did you just hit me?” Said Eth asked playfully, his candid smile gracing his lips. He wasn’t angry. Quera glanced at him and his own rage dispersed slowly. Maybe losing his cool sometimes wasn’t such a drama after all.

“I did. Stop your unfounded assumptions. You’re getting on my nerves.” He replied calmly. For once he wasn’t afraid of voicing his feelings.

“He does that to everyone.” Meya’s first prince affirmed, quietly. Ryaen’ne laughed.

“Just one of my many virtues, I’ll let you know, milord Quera.” He said, grinning. Quera turned to him and shook his head, a smile on his lips. Regarding his personality, that striking, good-humoured warrior wasn’t definitely what he thought an Eth was supposed to be, that was for sure.

Delaen’niel smirked, amused at his best friends’ antics and happened to glance at the dark-skinned lord again. Something caught his attention and while studying the knight’s sudden rigid posture and his displeased, angry frown at Ryaen’ne and Quera’s banter beside him, Meya’s first prince wondered if his cousin was that far from the truth in his so-called ‘unfounded assumptions’. Then again it could be the distance playing tricks on him, though he sincerely doubted it. That strong, imposing knight appeared to be somewhat jealous of Quera and Ryaen’ne. Of course, Delaen’niel couldn’t possibly know if it was love, desire or simply overprotective friendship. Either way, his young Siekih lord wasn’t that wrong, but as he had put it, he hated to agree with his cousin and after all, it was not one of his virtues to get on anyone’s nerves, so he kept quiet.

Delaen’niel was so distracted, in his previous scrutiny, that he made the mistake of not paying attention at the name being announced by the judge. And so was surprised when everyone in the Arena got up in the most deafening ovation of the afternoon. Because all the nobles got up applauding as well, he had to stretch his neck over the heads in front of him to see who this hero of theirs was. Of course Ryaen’ne wasn’t that proper and got up as well.

“Who’s that?” He shouted, awed, to the also standing, clapping Quera. The blond human smiled and shouted back loud and clear.

“His Highness Prince Edyane, Heir of N’Alaera.” Delaen’niel heard this and noticing his cousin’s impressed expression, decided to sacrifice pride in order to see the man. So, he got up and looked down at the Arena’s grounds. A young man with auburn hair and strong build paraded around the grounds waving at the crowd with a charming smile. He mounted a proud grey mare with dark, radiating mane and his body was covered in flexible, shining dark armour. A red-blood cape flowed behind him, following the sways of the steed’s powerful trot. Sheathed in a scabbard at the horse’s right side was a large, heavy sword and at the left, a heavy pentagonal shield with silver runes, made of the same dark metal of the armour. His face revealed confidence and strength of character. He finally stopped at the centre, in front of the other aligning knights and the mare kneeled on her front legs, both the mount and its rider’s heads bowed in the direction of the North grandstand. Delaen’niel smiled. Perhaps N’Alaera wasn’t as helpless as he had previously thought during the meeting. At least some of its knights and at least one of its rulers appeared to be strong, proud and fearless.

“Does he look like a proper prince to you now, Iaddy?” Meya’s prince heard the soft voice of Midaen’niel ask when the people’s clamour died and they all sat back again. Quera, who apparently had heard it, too, chuckled. Delaen’niel didn’t quite get the joke.

“Humph! He’s a show-off.” Was the answer. Quera coughed and turned to Iadden with an enigmatic expression. Midaen’niel giggled, happy, and that made Ryaen’ne grin happily as well. Iadden merely sulked with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

Edyane’s grey mare rose back up and without warning he made her canter to the judges’ stand. There he spoke to their senior in low tones, for a moment. When he finished, the old man laughed, amused, and nodded, agreeing to the prince’s request. Edyane bowed in thanks and cantered back to his place. There he raised his right hand to quiet the always present murmuring of the crowd and spoke loud for everyone to hear in a powerful, clear voice. All the audience had shut up at the prince’s request and as such they all heard what he had to say.

“As you all know, we’re here to honour the most beautiful vice-king a kingdom could have hopped to have: the kind and lovely Meanea Guinare of N’Alaera.” All the audience cheered happily. Iadden narrowed his eyes behind his mask. What was that prince up to? “Because we all are going to fight for you Milessin, the participating knights of this Tournament have a request to make to our King and to you.” Edyane waited for Meanea and Fenaleos’ nods to continue. Iadden got more suspicious by the second.

“Our request is simple. We propose Milessin Meanea awards the ultimate winner of this Tournament not only with the announced prize but also with a kiss.” After his short words, Edyane smiled charmingly and the knights behind him, after a second of surprise, raised their voices and clapped, approvingly. Iadden jumped from his seat with a loud shout.

“I knew it!!!” he claimed, his fists on his hips. Midaen’niel looked at him alarmed, while noticing everyone excited at the prospect of the kiss, including his brother, who was acclaiming the prince’s boldness, along with the crowd on the Arena’s stands. Only Lord Quera had his right hand covering his face and was shaking his head. Idiot, he was whispering. Meya’s first prince only wore a simple, lenient smile on his lips.

Slowly, the small Ethen boy pulled the furious Iadden back down and calmed him with his wise words: he didn’t want to make a scandal in this event as well, did he? Embarrass his brother yet again? Iadden looked at him, sharply and shook his head, sadly. No, he didn’t. So, he sat again, thanked Midaen’niel and quietened, even if inside, he was burning with indignation.

The blushing Meanea looked at Fenaleos, who, after a small moment of shock and seeing the expectant crowd encouraging his fiancé to accept it, simply told Meanea.

“It’s your decision. If you feel comfortable with it, indulge them. I really don’t mind.” He smiled softly at his Ethen and Meanea smiled beautifully too. He then rose from his seat and spoke, his voice crystalline with joy and mischief.

“I agree. One kiss for the winner. Good luck to you all!” The pleased audience acclaimed his decision with loud shouts and applauses. The knights bowed and retired to the lateral doors. The trumpets sounded again and the first match of the day, witch belonged to the Sword & Shield class, started.

TBC…

Ending notes: Once more, sorry for taking so long to update. I wasn’t inspired at all. It took me so long to write it…I’d write a part and when I read it the next day, I’d hate it and write it all over again…Until I got stuck in the middle of the chapter. And the stupid thing was that I had this chapter in my mind for a long time. I knew what I wanted to put in it, but I couldn’t figure out how. It was really complicated. I hope I never have a writer’s block like this again. Still, I don’t think it ended up that bad. Anyhow, hope you like it. As always, I’d like to hear what you think, so feedback is immensely appreciated. Thanks for reading.