betrayal

She turned to me, and her magic nearly knocked me off my feet.

Her magic.

I was trained to fight such magic.

But I couldn’t fight her.

Elyssa stood in front of the large windows, the moonlight bathing her.

And magic.

So much magic.

I started to call for the guards, to find the mage ensorcelling her, then remembered Gillian.

“Elyssa?”

The moment I entered, I felt the brush of magic.

Not bad magic. Not exactly. But magic.

Tight. Contained. But still stupidly powerful.

I drew my sword and crept inside.

The other knights were out drinking and finding ladies, but my time with the calificars had made that awkward.

Well, more awkward.

I retreated to the duke’s library. It was a big one. Even bigger than back at the monastery.

And it had a lot more non-religious books.

I saw very little of Elyssa, but when I did, she was always accompanied by at least two knights.

I understood.

She was a duke’s daughter.

And I was a bastard that had failed at being even a calificar.

Six weeks, and I hadn’t been on kitchen duty once.

Though I had more bruises than ever before.

Ser Gilbrand was a helluva taskmaster.

And there were no religious studies.

I excelled in service to Duke Hartford.