The Royal Deal Chapter 117

Chapter 117 – There Can Never Be Two Queens (1)

“Ah, Lady Skad,” said Count Glacia, “Yes, we’ve called it a day and we’re all returning to our bedrooms.”

Count Glacia’s tone was odd. It was as though she was trying to provoke her with the tone alone and make it seem like she wasn’t.

“I see,” said Athyst, “Must have been a tiring day. Then, please rest well.”

She then smiled at them both and cut across from between them and kept walking. She abruptly stopped in her tracks as she realized that sobody had grabbed her arm as she passed.

“Where are you going at this hour?” asked Alexcent.

“Why do you want to know?” Athyst shot back.

“Ash….”

Don’t call in that way, thought Athyst. When Alexcent fondly called her, it didn’t do anything for her resolve.

“It hurts, Alec,” she said, “Please let go of .” She tried to wriggle out of his grip, to no avail.

“Just tell where you are going,” said Alexcent.

“You must indeed be very tired,” she said, “I am going to the training ground as you can very well see.” She showed him the sword she was holding. Athyst regretted replying so harshly but her feelings were shards of glass embedded in her heart and she wanted to hurl them outwards.

Alexcent glanced at the sword and released her arm. He looked like he was going to say sothing, but the duchess didn’t wait, she turned around and walked away quickening her pace through the corridor. She didn’t want to hear whatever she was going to say.

She arrived at the training grounds and spotted the knights. Seeing how they were gathered around at such an early hour, it seed like they must have vacated the training ground in consideration for her before this.

“Phil,” she called.

“Madam?” he asked aghast, “What brings you here at this early hour? We thought you were busy with the annual festival.” They had rightly assud that Athyst and Alexcent would not be training for the duration of the annual festival.

“I needed to practice,” said Athyst, “I feel like if I am not consistent then I might have to start over from the beginning.”

“That is indeed a very good mindset,” said Phil, “But please don’t overexert yourself. I am sure you have your schedule full.”

“Today, the schedule only consists of shopping with the ladies,” said Athyst, “And that is in the afternoon. I have got plenty of ti.”

“I see,” said Phil. “Marcus!” he called out to the chief knight who was swinging his sword at a distance. Marcus ran over to them.

“We are having a strategy eting today so the Knight Commanders of each group won’t be available,” said Phil, “But Marcus can assist you today.”

“That would be great!” said Athyst, “I have learned from Marcus before. He is a good teacher. I am so sorry to take up your ti when you are so busy.”

“Not at all, Madam.”

“You called?” asked Marcus.

“Yes,” said Phil, “Today you will be instructing Madam on her sword practice.”

“I will do it.”

Everyone turned at the voice, as Alexcent held her by the wrist. Alexcent had changed into a more casual attire and was standing next to Athyst.

“Of-of course,” stamred Marcus, nervously, “Please do so.”

“It’s alright,” said Athyst, “I will learn from Marcus.” Marcus who was about to take his leave stopped in his track, confused.

“No,” said Alexcent, “I’ll do it.”

“But you are busy,” said Athyst, “Just go and rest when you have a little ti to yourself.”

“I am fine,” said Alexcent, “I am already well rested.”

Athyst sighed. “I don’t want to add to your workload,” she said, “You just finished your eting. I can learn from Marcus.”

Athyst sighed. “I’m fine. I don’t want to add on to the workload of soone who has just ended his eting. I will learn from Marcus.”

“No, I….”

Marcus, anwhile, looked agonized, stuck between Athyst and Alexcent and utterly confused on what to do. Athyst was being very stubborn, and Alexcent was shooting sharp glares at him. He was downright terrified of disobeying both of them.

Marcus directing pleading looks at Phil, Buer and Leyrian who were standing a few paces away. But they seed highly amused at the scene unfolding before them. Buer’s eyes lit up.

“Let’s make a bet,” said Buer, “Who do you think will win?”

“Are you out of your mind?” said Leyrian.

“Fine. I will go first,” said Buer, “My bet is on Madam.”

Phil, who had been listening intently, spoke, “Then I will bet on the Duke.”

“What?” said Leyrian, thinking a while. “My bet is on Madam, as well.”

“Is no one going to bet on poor Marcus?” asked Buer.

“No way! He doesn’t stand a chance,” intoned Phil and Leyrian unanimously.

Poor Marcus had not a chance. He would be lucky enough if the Duke didn’t eat him alive after this.

*

Count Glacia had just finished showering. Her chief of maid ca to report to her. “The Duke is currently in the training grounds.”

“Really?” said Count Glacia.

“Yes,” said the maid.

Count Glacia laughed heartily. Her maid flinched. She seed a little afraid of the formidable Count Glacia. “Isn’t it funny?” she said, “The Duke trailing after his wife wherever she goes.”

“It seems the rumors were true,” said the maid.

“Bosh,” said Count Glacia, “The rumors weren’t even tasteful.”

It was true she was a commoner. The invisible class barrier was always close to insurmountable between the common people and the aristocracy. Slavery had been abolished and the descendants had been ‘allowed’ to live their lives as the common people. But no matter what they did, they had always been treated like an outcast.

Arwin, or Count Glacia, had decided she would get more out of life that was allocated to her. She refused to be treated like an animal prepared for slaughter. She had worked hard, trained, hard and beco the highest-ranking person among the common people. She had beco a knight. Although she had done it with hard training, her skills, and her sheer willpower, the past followed like a rabid dog.

She was still a commoner who had beco a knight. A commoner would always be a commoner. She needed to ascend higher. She needed to beco a noble. She had gotten married to a count when she was sixteen to a man who was many years her senior in age.

However, the whispers never ceased. The countess from a commoner background. That was what she lived with. That was what people talked about her. Her rage turned into cold, hard ambition that gnawed at her heart and mind every day. As a Countess, she was disposable. She needed to assert her dominance, she needed to have a title that couldn’t ever be taken away.

Fortunately, there was another person who wanted the Count gone as well. She conspired with him and reined beside the Duke who had not an ounce of interest in won but plenty in bloodshed. She took the title of the Count. As long as she remained unmarried, and as long as she didn’t cross her line, she would be able to revel in her title and enjoy a life of luxury. Which she had done.

She didn’t want to lose control over what she had. But there were always unseen factors and variables that would eventually appear, and she had to deal with them. That variable for now was Athyst. And unforeseen variable that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

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