C86
As soon as the spokesperson's shout ended, Zachary appeared majestically on a black horse.
The sun gleamed against the silver armor engraved with molten gold, and the black surcoat he wore elegantly fluttered in the wind. Above his helmet was a sculpture of a wolf with its mouth open as if ready to charge and bite the opponent at any moment.
The spectators held their breath and watched Zachary's every move as if in a trance.
Fernand alternated his gaze between Zachary and Bianca. Bianca mentioned that it was her husband's turn, and the last match of the tournament was the Count of Arno. That meant Bianca's husband was the Count of Arno. Fernand opened his mouth in disbelief.
When engaging in a passionate affair with a noblewoman, there were risks involved.
Among the nobility, courtly affairs where both the wife and husband had lovers were in vogue, but not everyone agreed with that trend. Often, honest husbands couldn't bear knights praising their wives.
Indeed, they burned their lust with women and enjoyed them to the fullest. But if a husband ever found out that his wife was having fun with another man, he would swing a club at his wife, and also at her lover. If the man she was involved with was just a minstrel, the club would become the hilt of an axe.
There had been dangerous moments for Fernand as well, and he had been living on the edge until now. However, if the opponent was the Count Arno, he would precisely pierce Fernand's neck, unlike the axe blades of the obese nobles with protruding bellies. Fernand fervently prayed to himself that the Count of Arno wasn't of the "wild" type.
Fearful, Fernand slowly distanced himself from Bianca. Still, he forced a smile on his face, not giving up on trying to impress her.
What a stupid look!
Bianca sneered.
Judging by the emotions clearly displayed on Fernand's face, he seemed unaware of Bianca's identity. If that was the case, it's possible he hadn't planned to approach her on someone else's orders.
But that didn't mean she was relieved. Rather, she was quite annoyed. Did he think she was a woman who could be seduced by anyone like a moth?
It was unexpected that Fernand feared Zachary, as he had openly come to the Arno estate in the past and seduced Bianca.
"That's good. I hope you don't even think about taking this opportunity to step towards me."
Bianca's lips twisted.
Embarrassed by being ridiculed by the woman he had been seducing for a long time, Fernand blushed. He opened his mouth to apologize, but as the match began, the space filled with the thundering hooves and cheers of the crowd, so he couldn't say anything.
---
Zachary stood tall at the entrance of the tent until Bianca's back disappeared. If it hadn't been for the handkerchief Bianca had tied around his forearm, he might have mistaken his visit for an illusion.
That's how hard it was to believe what had just happened.
While Zachary pondered over what had transpired, one of the servants cautiously spoke to him.
"Count... You still have yet to finish preparing."
"...Yes."
Only then did Zachary snap back to reality.
He returned to the tent and carefully inspected the seams of his armor.
When a knight was fully armored, his armor and helmet weighed almost as much as a sack of wheat. The weight was not light, but Zachary, who had worn armor his whole life, was accustomed to it.
Fully armed, Zachary slowly put on the helmet that the servant had given him. The light filtered slowly through the long, narrow space. His vision blocked, the air uncomfortably charged, external stimuli limited, Zachary took a deep breath inside the armor that separated him from the outside. His black eyes shone as blue as those of a wolf in the darkness.
Originally, Zachary rarely participated in tournaments. He didn't believe he was at the level to compete. He was busy roaming the battlefield.
However, this time there was a subtle friction with the other party of the engagement, the Kingdom of Castile, and because of that, King Sevran, who thought he couldn't afford to lose the tournament, called upon Zachary and asked for a special favor.
The king asked for a favor, and at the same time, Bianca had come to the capital.
Zachary didn't know much about the social world, but he knew at least that the act of a lover or husband participating in a tournament and distributing roses was highly enviable. If he won and others treated Bianca favorably, Zachary would be willing to participate in tournaments again and again.
Even at that moment, Zachary only had the lukewarm thought that he had to deal with the things he had been ordered to do. Of course, he had never had anything to do with the extravagant feeling of being ignored, and that was also the case in tournaments. First of all, he had no intention or reason to lose, so Zachary's victory was almost certain.
Bianca didn't have to come and see him. Participating in the tournament was entirely Zachary's choice, and he only had to do what he wanted to do.
But Bianca came to visit Zachary.
She walked to the stadium to watch his match, and from there, she went further and approached Zachary, handing him a handkerchief. Zachary couldn't believe the situation, as he had never thought of getting a handkerchief.
The handkerchief looked as white and fragile as Bianca herself.
Even Bianca, didn't she say she made it herself?
The fact that Bianca had gone through such trouble for Zachary left him helpless. Zachary clenched his fists impatiently, wanting to somehow convey this overwhelming feeling to Bianca.
What enveloped Zachary now was the fighting spirit that compelled him to win. It was a more intense urge than any difficult war he had faced.
"I should thank the king for requesting me to come to the tournament."
If it hadn't been for the tournament, Bianca wouldn't have given him a handkerchief. The tip of Zachary's lips, covered by the helmet, twitched and rose. His pounding heart fluttered as if it was about to burst. Even the slightest stimulation seemed to overwhelm him. Zachary pulled the reins tightly to stay focused.
"Count. It's your turn now."
"Yes."
Zachary stepped out of the tent. Five or six servants clung to him and served him. Two servants lifted Zachary's black ebony lance. It was so heavy that they stumbled several times in the process.
Zachary's black war horse snorted. Zachary leaped onto the horse and looked directly at the stadium in the distance. Just imagining Bianca waiting for him there made his throat dry.
"What kind of expression is Bianca making while she waits for me? Come to think of it, she kept worrying that I might get hurt. Is she still anxious? Will she lean forward at an angle, with a wavering look... Or will she try to remain impassive as if she doesn't care, as usual?"
The latter was a bit more like Bianca.
Zachary rubbed the corners of his mouth, and a smile slipped through. The smile, unnoticed even by himself, was concealed by the helmet, so no one could see it.
Already on the horse, Zachary positioned himself at the end of the arena. The previous match was Jacob's match.
To be honest, he was a bit surprised to hear that Jacob would participate in the tournament. No matter how skilled he was in martial arts, there was nothing he could do against Zachary, and history said he would inevitably lose, so he couldn't believe that "that" proud prince had gotten himself into a battle he could lose.
"What is his plan?"
Still, he couldn't decipher what he was scheming.
Then, as Zachary watched Jacob with a vigilant gaze, the opponent forfeited.
It seemed that the knight wasn't brave enough to showcase his skills against the royal family. The victorious Jacob rode his horse toward the stands.
And the person he handed the rose to...
Zachary's face tightened, and his mouth twisted. Jacob's horse stopped in front of Bianca. He spoke with Bianca for a moment, and then handed her the rose in her hand.
Zachary's keen sight caught Bianca's uncomfortable expression, but that didn't console him.
This isn't the first time Jacob has played a nasty trick on Bianca. His body turned cold as if Zachary's blood had drained from his body all at once.
Tags:
TWB (Novel)