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Side View: Shaghad
I shuddered. What was that? Some horrible presence in the audience seats? It was far more wicked than any of the assassins that had appeared night after night.
“What? You scared?” goaded Ismail with a condescending smile, misinterpreting my shudder as a reaction to him.
I didn’t feel like responding. I already knew what would happen if I did. No matter what I said, Ismail would see me as nothing but a weak dog barking at a threat. Which meant my best option was to use force to make him see.
The match started, and Ismail was the first to go on the offensive. His speed, power, and everything far surpassed anyone else in our age group. Everyone would have praised his martial prowess if he’d been born into a normal noble family or even as a true heir to the throne. He could have even made a fine knight.
But that was not the fate he was born to. His parents didn’t allow that. He didn’t allow that.
That’s why I will win against him today.
Right, then left, then left again. Defend, attack, defend. An attack from below.
I can anticipate it all: where the attacks come from, their timing, everything. It’s so clear to me I can almost hold it in my hands.
“There is a form to all fighting styles taught to knights and royals or nobles who are trained by knights. A master knight experienced in real combat can handle the unexpected. But those lacking combat experience—such as new knights or those aiming to become knights—will fight using the basics. That makes them easy to deal with.”
Selena was right. I could predict the next attack since he never deviated from the basics. But she also said not to let that take all my focus. People could exhibit growth far beyond what was expected when in the heat of battle. If that happened, she said I wouldn’t be able to win with the same strategy I used before.
I told her she was exaggerating by implying my life would be at risk in something like this competition, but she smiled and said, “Any sword fight approached with sincerity is a fight to the death.”
She also said Ismail would be coming at me with the intention of killing or, at the very least, maiming me.
I questioned if he really would do such a thing in a public event, but his blade gave me the answer as it grazed my cheek.
“I suppose Selena was right,” I murmured. He was trying to remove me from the picture in what looked like an accident.
Maybe that’s why Selena had said, “Do not spare him a beating. Show him the difference between you two, and finally silence the fool who doesn’t know his place.”
I could detect frustration and agitation from Ismail because my attacks weren’t following a set pattern. That might have been what was causing his attacks to become simpler.
He who cannot remain calm on the battlefield loses. And a loss in battle is death.
That was why Selena insisted I always assume someone was trying to take my life; it didn’t matter what sort of combat it was, even if it was a joke, even if I wasn’t planning on risking my life in the fight, even if it was an event like this one today, I must continue to win.
That girl, I would have thought she’d been raised lacking nothing in a pampered world of butterflies and flowers.
“Dammit, Shaghad, you’re just a fake royal,” said Ismail, throwing insults as he continued to attack, though his breathing was ragged and his stance flawed.
When he hit, he hit hard, but I could minimize the load on my body by deflecting those attacks rather than defending against them. It was a fighting style Selena, a physically weak noble girl, found to survive combat. Only she could have taught me that. It wasn’t a fighting style used by a strong knight.
I glanced toward Ismail’s feet: I could tell where his next attack would come from if I could see where he shifted his center of gravity.
“You’re not really much of anything,” I said.
“What did you say?”
I was certain Selena was using me to injure Ismail’s pride on a public stage, deflating his ego and making him easy to take down, and I wasn’t going to hesitate because I didn’t want to ruin her plans.
And so, I would give him bait to rise to.
“I thought you must be strong because you act so pompously despite your family only having the status of a viscount. But you’re barely better than a fresh knight recruit,” I said. “I’d heard Father hired the best knights to tutor you, but I guess this is all I can expect from a lowly viscount’s offspring.”
His attacks were becoming less refined the angrier he got.
If Selena were here, she’d land a kick in his gut right about now, and her kicks are merciless. I thought I was going to die the first time I experienced one.
She didn’t care for her opponent’s social standing when she fought.
“I had high hopes for you, what with all your bragging. I didn’t expect it to all be posturing. Why don’t we stop here before I rub salt in your wounded pride? This match is just unsightly at this point,” I said.
“Be quiet, Shaghad! Your father abandoned you; your mother abandoned you; you’re not needed by the royal family!”
When we were in Rienbul, it was standard for him to look at me with scorn and terrorize me where no one could see. His Majesty was the only person on my side after my mother left me behind, but I couldn’t trust even him completely. Part of me always wondered when I would disappoint him and he would change his mind and abandon me, too.
That was why I could never say anything back when Ismail or Aisha insulted me. I didn’t want my grandfather to learn they did that because he would see how pathetic I was for being so powerless. If he knew I was like that, he would be disappointed, he would hate me, and he was my only family.
And, while I wouldn’t go so far as to say this sort of thing was a conversation, I did have these interactions with Ismail, and they showed me everything about him.
“Ismail, your sole pride in life is that Father loves you,” I said.
Despite having royal blood, no one recognized it, and everyone laughed at him when he showed pride in it. That’s why he would say things like, “I’m the one who Father loves. He has royal blood.”
Ismail is weak, capable of nothing more than clinging to our father’s love for him. I would never have realized it if I hadn’t come to this country. If I hadn’t met Selena.
I actually pity him. He’s a victim, too.
He’s jerked around at the whims of the adults around him, not unlike me. But that doesn’t mean I will hold back. He is after my position, watching with eagle eyes for any opportunity to take me down.
If something happened to me or Grandfather, the next people with the most royal blood in them would be my father, whose place in the line of succession was removed, and then Ismail.
As long as that is true, we cannot coexist.
Even if Ismail had a change of heart and swore to never stand against me again, all his words and actions up to this point would render such a vow pointless because I couldn’t trust him.
That means my only option is to eliminate him. To secure my own safety, of course, but more than that, I want to repay Selena for all the help she has given me.
I didn’t want to force her into a dangerous situation because I hesitated. I must repay my debt, and I don’t want her to lose faith in me.
Ismail, perhaps your life up until this point wouldn’t have been so ravaged if you’d had someone who was to you what Selena is to me, or if your parents had been better people, or if the people around you and the environment you were placed in had been better. Perhaps we wouldn’t need to kill each other, then.
I pity you. I do. But I will not hold back. I will crush you.
“Urk!”
I flicked aside Ismail’s sword and swept his feet out from beneath him, sending him tumbling, where I placed the tip of my sword at his throat. I put the intent to kill into that last move, showing him he would be dead now if this were not a tournament with an audience watching.
His face turned pale, but hatred lingered in his glaring eyes that wouldn’t disappear.
“What does it feel like to lose to someone you thought below you?” I smiled at him. I believe it was sort of a sneer, actually, since I imitated the smile he normally used towards me. “No matter how proud you are of your blood, you are no match for me. I am royalty. You are a boy from a viscount’s house. I acknowledge the effort you have put in, but we are not in the same league.”