Idk if I want to keep the first person perspective as I usually write in third, but whatever. Here’s a WIP from an original story where the daughter of a corrupt duke tries to make her territory and kingdom a better place while she drags her personal knight along who most definitely does not want anything to do with her. (It all goes downhill from here for them)
“Someone strong, stronger than you anyway. Stronger than anyone, hopefully. A knight who knows his vows but isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. Someone who will be loyal.”
The words of my father echo in my mind as the knights line up before me. Clad in the shiniest, sturdiest armor and each carrying an air of competency the likes that I’ve seen few have. About a dozen men, hand picked by the Duke to compete to be my personal knight. My guards were good at their jobs, but a position like this was much more intimate - and meant that the one who had it was superbly skilled.
“A coming of age gift,” he had said. I scoffed, thinking back to the hollow words. A day ago, I turned 18. Marrying age. My most fertile age. A number that meant my value as a woman had gone up significantly. There would be many more attempts at my life and at my virtue now that I had left girlhood behind. This… “gift” was just a way for the Duke to keep his possessions to himself. He couldn’t care less about me, but his own blood could serve to be a valuable pawn. I wish I could just run somewhere far from his gaze - far from my responsibility as the Duke’s only healthy child.
But there was really nothing I could do about it.
My aide - Riella - clears her throat. I sigh and unfold my arms. She’s right, I can’t stall this forever.
I walk back and forth, studying each candidate. They keep their eyes straight ahead, more statue than human. I am to appraise them like I would an art piece, or at least, that’s what my father tells me. Their ages vary - some as old as my father and some as young as me. They all look extremely talented; however, it’s hard to tell without seeing them in action.
A young man with golden curls catches my eye and I stop in front of him. He has an excellent poker face, but I can tell by the slight furrow of his brow that he’s annoyed to be here. How amusing. Most knights would kill for this position.
I smile. “What’s your name, Ser?”
“Micah, my lady,” he replies, acting the proper knight.
“Well, Ser Micah, what do you think about your competition?” I throw out my arms, gesturing towards the rest of the men.
His eyebrow twitches and a smile barely tugs at the corners of his mouth. He locks eyes with me for the first time and I feel my face warm. How peculiar. “I don’t think they stand a chance.” A beat passes. “My lady.” The last part is added as an afterthought.
Protests immediately erupt throughout the rest of the knights - all of them insulted. But they are all silenced a moment later when my laughter cuts through the yelling. I pretend to not notice Riella with her head in her hands.
I wipe the tears from my eyes and address them all, “All jests aside, I hope each and every one of you does your absolute best in the tourney. Remember, you do not have to win for me to pick you - you simply have to display the qualities I’m looking for.”
An older man pipes up, “And what exactly is that, my lady?”
A mirthful grin appears on my face, “It wouldn’t be any fun to rig the game for you all, now would it?”