293: Five Chances

Five Chances

In Imbert's absence, Rafal was given the responsibility to look after the mansion. He should be amongst those welcoming the prince. As his direct superior, it was obvious why Imbert was displeased.  0

The knights of the Order of Thistle standing nearby gave each other a glance, as if urging their comrades to step out and answer their captain. However, none wanted to be the one spilling the truth. After all, their captain was always away, accompanying Arlan. It was Rafal who was in charge of training and monitoring them. In their perspective, it was scarier to offend Rafal than Imbert.

"Sir Rafal is in the rear garden. Practicing a sword," Neil helplessly answered in the knights' stead. 

"Practicing a sword?" Oriana suddenly gasped, "That stubborn man!"

She told him he should not do excessive movement until his internal injury is healed, but that knight was simply too obstinate for his own good. As she had been busy for the past few days, she didn't know about it. 

Everyone's eyes were on Oriana due to her outburst. She immediately lowered her head. "Apologies, Your Highness. As Sir Ahren's attending physician, I advised him to refrain from sword training, but he still did it…"

"Go ahead," Arlan permitted and Oriana immediately ran in the direction of the garden. Arlan cracked a small grin, as if looking forward to an entertaining sight. He also walked towards the rear garden, his pace rather leisurely. Imbert followed him as well. 

Neil and Damien exchanged looks. It was only proper that his personal attendants go after their master as well, right? Indeed, they were not following because they were eager to see Rafal in trouble.

When they reached the rear garden, Oriana and Rafal were already in the middle of an argument. 

"...do not tell me what to do!" Rafal growled. 

The knight looked like a giant beast baring his teeth at Oriana. His shirt was clinging to his sweat-covered body, telltale signs of what kind of strenuous practice he was doing before they arrived.

"Then? Are you planning to ruin your body?"

"That's none of your concern."

"Oh it is my concern because I am your physician—-"

"You are not even a real physician. You are still in apprenticeship—"

"I am the one who treated your injury!" 

"So what—"

Both had their voices raised at each other, their argument so loud to the point that it was gathering the curious looks of the passing palace servants and even the patrolling guards. Meanwhile, the spectators were enjoying the show. 

Rafal was the vice-captain of the knighthood order under the Crown Prince of Griven. He only listened to two people—Arlan and Imbert. Given his menacing looks, his unruly temper and his background, no one dared offend him, but Oriana was something else. She didn't care about his status and didn't fear him at all. 

"What do you think will happen?" Neil whispered to Damien. 

"A duel perhaps?"

"You can't be serious."

"Well, isn't it normal? Women scream at each other, and men brawl it out."

Other servants whispered among themselves as well. 

Imbert had long wished to stop these two from making a mess, but since Arlan was merely standing quietly beside him, he held himself back. 

"....Alright, since you insist that my body is not recovered yet, then fight me and defeat me."

"Hah! What are you saying, Sir Ahren? You are a trained knight, an elite among royal knights at that. Besides, have you seen yourself in the mirror? How can I defeat a huge man like you?"

"If you defeat me, then wouldn't that mean your words are true and I need to rest more?" Rafal countered.

"You—"

"I will give a scrawny lad like you a handicap."

Rafal moved the training sword in his hand and drew a circle on the ground around his feet. 

"Five attempts," he said. "If you manage to get me out of this small circle in five attempts, I will listen to your nagging."

Oriana glanced down at that small circle. It was so smallRafal could not even take a single step outward, or else he would fail. Basically, it only meant he had to stand in one spot and limit himself to only moving his arm. 

"Get a sword," Rafal ordered her. "If you don't want to, then get lost."

The two found themselves in an intense glaring match. Oriana pressed her lips into a thin line and then stomped her way towards one of the knights gathered like an audience. 

"Sir, may I borrow your sword?"

The startled knight first looked at Rafal, as if silently asking if they would be fighting for real. How can such a frail-looking young servant stand against the Vice-Captain?

"If you don't lend your sword, I will double your morning training!" Rafal glared at the knight. 

The knight immediately handed his sword to Oriana. All the knights were always scared of Rafal, especially worse when he was angry. Rafal had a reputation for not forgetting a grudge.

'Heavy,' Oriana thought as she returned to stand in front of Rafal. She had held a sword in the past, but it was a low-class common sword, one her grandfather used to own back when he was an active mercenary. Its quality was a far cry from the ones used by royal knights. Unfortunately, the standard long swords used by the Order of Thistle were too heavy for her arms. She had no choice but to tightly grasp its handle and raise it using two hands.

"Five chances," she repeated as she observed Rafal's upper half body. She circled around him with the blade of her sword between them, as if gauging the distance and spots to attack. 

"Sir Ahren, I want to add another condition."

"Go ahead."

"You are not allowed to turn around entirely if I attack you from the back, that means you can rotate your upper body but your feet should stay in the same position. Also, I won't attack you on the same side twice."

"Whatever," Rafal replied with an annoyed scoff.

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