Sir Hyland was clad in shining armor: chainmail underneath a steel breastplate, cuisses and pauldrons strapped to his limbs, a helm engraven with his kingdom’s crest held in the elbow of a gauntleted arm. His sword was sheathed in a leather scabbard at his side, and his painted wooden shield hung on his back. His battle-tested form was suited up and ready to lead an army to war.
For some unreasonable reason, however, he was not at the front of a battlefield, nor was he leading any sort of charge. In fact, he was standing with his back to a wall in the castle ballroom, tasked with watching over the party and protecting its guests, as were several of RiValya’s other finest knights.
It was somewhat understandable that the royalty would request a heavier security presence during this event. It was Princess Anastasia’s twenty-first birthday, so of course, a dozen or more young (and not so young) noblemen had attended in hopes of being the lucky one who would soon be engaged to her and later become king of RiValya. With so many guests often came assassins sent to kill any one of them for any reason, and a murder would certainly ruin the party by anyone’s standards. Although he was instructed to watch out for all of the guests, he had been told to keep an eye in particular on the princess. The kingdom’s heir was generally viewed in a positive light by both citizens and allies, but those not invited to a royal birthday could get offended, and offended nobility could get violent.
Anyone could perform a simple guard job, though. Hyland itched to get out of the crowded room and into one where he could do something real. Recent reports had seen the Eskrian Empire encroaching on RiValyan territory. Eskrium had shown signs of expansion in past months, taking over some lesser independent states and absorbing them into their culture of religious fanaticism. RiValya was undoubtedly fortified enough to withstand their armies, but it was an issue that still required attention. His attention, preferably. Somewhere he didn’t have to distract himself with idiots in crowns and coattails.
Hyland sighed. It was going to be a long day.
For some unreasonable reason, however, he was not at the front of a battlefield, nor was he leading any sort of charge. In fact, he was standing with his back to a wall in the castle ballroom, tasked with watching over the party and protecting its guests, as were several of RiValya’s other finest knights.
It was somewhat understandable that the royalty would request a heavier security presence during this event. It was Princess Anastasia’s twenty-first birthday, so of course, a dozen or more young (and not so young) noblemen had attended in hopes of being the lucky one who would soon be engaged to her and later become king of RiValya. With so many guests often came assassins sent to kill any one of them for any reason, and a murder would certainly ruin the party by anyone’s standards. Although he was instructed to watch out for all of the guests, he had been told to keep an eye in particular on the princess. The kingdom’s heir was generally viewed in a positive light by both citizens and allies, but those not invited to a royal birthday could get offended, and offended nobility could get violent.
Anyone could perform a simple guard job, though. Hyland itched to get out of the crowded room and into one where he could do something real. Recent reports had seen the Eskrian Empire encroaching on RiValyan territory. Eskrium had shown signs of expansion in past months, taking over some lesser independent states and absorbing them into their culture of religious fanaticism. RiValya was undoubtedly fortified enough to withstand their armies, but it was an issue that still required attention. His attention, preferably. Somewhere he didn’t have to distract himself with idiots in crowns and coattails.
Hyland sighed. It was going to be a long day.