A Fight to Remember || Evander & Erika
THE THREE DAYS since meeting the Norwegian governess had gone by in a flash, and Evander woke eager that morning. Despite Svala’s warning, he had not prepared at all. While he trusted the Queen’s judgement, and did not doubt her own prowess in the pen, he still simply could not fathom and threat from the girl. He had spent years in the fight, and had only just recently returned. Even if she was once a warrior, he was fit and fresh, whereas she had grown soft at the hands of babes. And so he’d spent his night drinking and smoking and screwing some servant girl who had made herself more than readily available, as some lasses did in the presence of power. Evander had enjoyed himself thoroughly, and expected to do the same today. He awoke well after the sun had risen, though still early enough to prepare. He called for a hot bath and carefully selected his clothes. He had chosen out one of his finest silk tunics to pair with his kilt, intending to boast in the end when it had not obtained a scratch. Despite it’s finery, it was easy enough to move in, and the flow of the fabric would make for an excellent show.
As the servants drew his bath, his footman carefully shaved his face. Evander was nothing if not vain, and he was sure to make some hearts swoon as he swung his sword. News of the stand-off had traveled fast, and Evander was excited to know they would be observed. Finally dressed, powdered, and perfumed, the chancellor made his way down to the South Lawn as the sun neared it’s peak. Already, bystanders were gathered, and squires stood by with a selection of swords, both sparring and sharp, as Evander had requested. He would leave the choice up to the Lady on what kind of game she wished to play. The chancellor held his hand over his eyes against the sun reflecting on the green and looked out in search of his opponent as he neared the standing Squires, fervently awaiting her arrival.
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