Daily Writing Challenge 2021 Day 20
Master/Jealousy ( @daily-writing-challenge, @syrahnbloodfeather )
Theme: Anilah - Medicine Chant
They have been at it for hours. Hours! Lord Victor Sunpath was working his charm on Syrahn, who in turn giggled at every cheap and unfunny joke he made! Ijiro was white hot under his collar, the Retainer forced to accompany them as this smarmy bastard pulled every trick in the book to win her affection; and to make matters worse, it seemed to him that it was working! Syrahn never took her eyes off the rich oaf, grinning ear to ear as they walked circles through House Sunpath's newly planted gardens. Every time he brought up her hand to gently kiss her knuckles, Ijiro had to fight the violent urge to draw his sword and risk it all… but he knew he would lose more than just his one last chance to win her over -- a great deal more.
Victor Sunpath was the firstborn son of a powerful house. His family was renowned for their paladins, templars, and inquisitors, as well as their affinity to dragonhawk taming. A union with House Sunpath would give Syrahn’s family the leverage they needed to keep their rule absolute; it would ensure House Bloodfeather would not and could not be overthrown by any would-be competition. Moreover he was handsome, striking, and bold. Rumor has it he’s unmatched with a lance and has remained undefeated in every jousting tournament he’s ever participated in. A true knight in shining armor.
Meanwhile Ijiro was lowborn gutter trash, his “powerful house” shamed, exiled, and destroyed decades before he was even old enough to open his eyes for the first time. He was conceived in the back of a seedy tavern, his equally lowborn parents rushing to wed once they were aware of the pregnancy, but it didn’t do him any good; he was so poor he might as well have been a bastard in the eyes of all these lords and ladies. Everything he earned, Lord Victor was born with. Ijiro learned how to fight in dusty alleys, underground fighting pits, and on war torn battlefields. He fought hard and dirty as befitting a man of his stature, and every scar was a lesson. The Retainer wasn't much of a looker as a result; the deep gashes across his mouth had caused just enough nerve damage to slant his smile, an eye was pulled out during his time as a prisoner under interrogation, and his body was disfigured from sixty long years of hunting and mercenary work -- he even lost most of his toes to frostbite due to having poorly made shoes when he was just a boy. Most of his injuries could still be fixed through magic, of course… but he was proud of them all. Until today.
Syrahn was red in the face from laughing. She was definitely enjoying his weak jokes more than Ijiro was comfortable with, but what could he do to stop this madness? He was her Retainer, not her husband, and if this continued down the path he feared it would go, he would be Victus’ retainer soon as well; the very image of standing guard beside their bed chambers on their wedding night was enough to make him queasy. He forced himself to pretend to patrol around the gardens to “keep a watchful eye” on their surroundings, but truth be told, he couldn’t stand being around this man. It was agony watching her giggle at his every attempt to make her smile. Agony!
She was his lover! It was his name she gasped out in the early hours of the morning! It was his touch she craved when they were apart! How could she even entertain this fool and his pathetic attempts to win her heart when it already belonged to him?! Why would she do this when she knew it was killing him inside?! Ijiro closed his eye and swallowed his anger, knowing his temper would do him no favors in this man’s fortified garden. The better man in him knew Syrahn was only doing her duty to help protect her family, but the lowborn merc in him wanted to bury his sword so deep into Victus that only the destined ruler of Quel’Thalas would be able to remove it!
“Ah, ever the dutiful retainer you have!” Hearing his voice made Ijiro’s pointed ears twitch, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at them chortling on the bench beside the sparkling pond. “Is he always so paranoid of danger? We’re in the heart of my estate! There’s no need for such precaution!”
He grit his teeth before thinking, “I’m looking for any witnesses to your grisly murder you stuck up sack of-”
“Jiro, come here.” Syrahn commanded, offering a tender smile. “Lord Victus was just talking about his accomplishments in battle, and I want to show you off.” Helpless, Ijiro spun on his heel and approached them. Thank the Sunwell he was wearing a helmet to hide his scowl.
“Haha, is that right?” Victus stroked his chin while he looked the Retainer over. “Well, I’ve won first place in the last seven tourneys. Archery, fencing, and jousting. Some would find my skill with a pole most impressive.” He said that last one while winking at the Countess, causing her to giggle again. “Tell me, how many tourneys have you participated in, good sir?”
Ijiro swallowed again to take great care in his tone, but even with all this effort he could not mask his disdain. “None. My accomplishments occurred on a real battlefield. Unless my Lady took interest in watching comfortable knights playing at war, you would not find me within a hundred paces of a tournament or their foolish games.”
Victus raised his eyebrows in surprise, while the color drained from Syrahn’s face. “Is that so…?” He asked, grinning. “Quite a sharp tongue you have there. Is that how you lost your eye?”
Ijiro slowly turned his helmet to stare at the nobleman directly. “I lost it from loyalty to my Lady.” He coldly explained. Syrahn kept glancing between them, the roaring laughter and playful remarks had abandoned her; if this lord wanted to poke the hornet’s nest, he better be prepared to face the stingers.
“I’m absolutely famished…!” Syrahn sighed, quickly deciding to change the subject before all pretense fled with the wind, drawing Victus’ inquisitive stare away from Ijiro.
“Then we should eat at once!” He rose to his feet and gently took her by the hand, causing her Retainer to tighten the grip on his sword so forcefully he could almost hear the boiled leather straining beneath his fingers. Once she was on her feet as well, he shot Ijiro a daring smirk before pressing his lips to her knuckles again. For half a heartbeat it looked like Ijiro would do it -- but he relaxed his shoulders and turned around to resume his watch on the road. “Come along, my silver-tongued friend. Mother is cooking a meat stew so creamy it’ll lighten anyone’s mood… mayhaps even yours!”
Syrahn giggled again, though the gusto wasn’t there this time. Ijiro clenched his jaw and counted to ten, waiting for them to pass so he could follow closely behind. As Lord Victor pointed at a mundane statue to explain who it was, Syrahn quickly glanced over her shoulder and gave Ijiro a comforting smile. A game, perhaps? Was she pretending to like him so as to not cause offense? Would she not accept his hand in marriage once he propositioned her after all?
Ijiro could only hope. Until then, however, he would have to endure this insufferable banter.