In Favor

At 20, you’re attending the annual tournament with your older sister, Isabelle and your younger sister, Thea. Your father, Duke Sadon DeFreen, offered you three as prizes to champions of the tournament.

In a private study, your father justified after having just told the truth, “It’s an honor to be given to such fine men as those in attendance. I expect you all to accept this with grace and gratitude.”

Your mother, Lady Eowyn, placed a soft hand to your quaking shoulder. “Please, it’s for the best, darling,” she plead. “These are men of high standing, men that will be able to care and provide as your father has.”

It was a conversation that left you feeling helpless, infuriated, and defeated all at once. You’d considered running away, but considering your father’s tenacity, you know he’d easily find and bring you back. Your sisters, however, were excited at the prospects of being married off. Especially Isabelle.

Traveling from your homeland to the city of Oplin, you don’t bother observing the knights to find and favor. You didn’t even want to travel the city like your sisters, to shop, fawn, and prance around. Yet you grew tired of the same four walls to your temporary bedroom at the Trendall estate.

After the tournament of the second day you agreed to step around the streets and browse the many booths. At some point you drifted from your guards and ended up near a tavern where a man groaned from being harshly thrown out. When you looked over to see what was happening, a man, very familiar looking, stepped out with his fists balled and eyes dead-set on the drunk.

You almost wouldn’t have recognized him in the dusty white shirt and brown trousers if not for the scar on his cheek. Lord Favian Rolfe! A nobleman dressed as a peasant? The drunken man instantly darted off at his approach as others laughed from near the doors of the tavern in cheer of Favian.

For a split second, as Favian turned back toward the steps, his gaze caught yours: cold, piercing, and sharp. It sent a shiver down your spine. Within a blink, he was back inside with you confused and bewildered.

Later that night, that’s when you put it together. He was once a peasant that has either lied and forged himself as a knight or somehow managed to earn his knighthood. Either way, you wanted nothing to do with him. A man like that is too wild, too carefree, too… Well, he’s just not the suitable type.

As the tournament continues, you try not to pay attention yet can’t help but watch Favian during his trials against others.

On the final day, you, Isabelle, Thea sit in the front of the private booth with your mother and father behind you as the tournaments come to a close. Your hands ball in your fists as the secret prizes are revealed, as the hands of you and your sisters are revealed to the public.

The people clap and applaud as you look away, the knights remaining respectful yet cocky at the chances of belonging to such a wealthy family.

As the winners are named, your knuckles go white. “First in place, Lord Tristan Bayard, to be awarded the hand of Lady Isabelle DeFreen.” Isabelle giggles behind her handkerchief considering her knight is quite the handsome man indeed.

“Second in place, Favian Rolfe, to be awarded…” Your mind goes blank as you hear your name, the world growing dizzy. Your nails dig into your lap as your breathing grows heavy.

“And third in place, Osrich Dumont, to be awarded Lady Thea Defeen!” Thea flushes as a soft smile traces her lips before frowning when she glances at you.

More people applaud, shout, and hurrah as the spokesman is replaced by your own father who stands and speaks to the crowd, congratulating the winners and inviting them to claim their courtships later this evening at the banquet.

You don’t even dare look up. Not for a moment. Not when you feel Favian’s gaze, when his piercing eyes flash back in your mind.

Later, with the banquet beginning, your sisters already downstairs greeting their grooms, you pace in your bedroom contemplating your escape. You pace like a caged animal as your mother knocks before gently stepping inside. “You look lovely,” she softly hums as she closes the door behind her and carefully approaches you. “My sweet, please, take a breath, won’t you?”