"If I were to perish out there tomorrow... Will you do me a favour, Ser Barristan?"
The man who asked this question had his back turned to him, his eyes staring down at the large army camp bustling with pre-battle nerves under the light of the setting sun.
And other than him, there were also a few other royal guards standing some distance away, keeping watch at the forest behind them with alert looks in their eyes.
"You will not die, your grace. I assure you, I will protect you!" Ser Barristan replied urgently, involuntarily taking a step forward in his haste.
"No man can fight against fate, Ser. You must have learned a little about that after following me for so many years," The man replied as he turned around with a calm smile on his face. "Besides, I did add 'if', did I not? So you can rest assured that I am not suicidal... or at the very least, there is still hope in my heart that the seven will hear your ardent prayers and will decide to help me at the last moment," he said with a faint chuckle, but Ser Barristan could not find any humour in this situation.
"But—"
"All men must die, Ser Barristan. That is one truth of life, and that is what makes it precious and beautiful," he said with such a bright look in his eyes that it was almost unbearable to look at, as the knight knew that the prince believed in those words from the bottom of his heart, that he one of the rare people who did not care for his life and death, "So just accomodate my selfishness one last time, Ser, and I promise I shall not ask anymore favour from you if I die tommorow," he chuckled once again trying to make light of the situation.
"Your wish is my... command, your grace," Barristan bowed and answered through gritted teeth as if the words were being pulled out of his mouth.
"I am truly grateful for this," The prince immediately sighed in relief as if a great burden had been lifted off his shoulder, before he became serious again, "There are two paths in front of us tomorrow, either we lose, or we win, and if we happen to lose, then I hope that you consider... surrendering instead of resisting until the end."
"What?! No!" the Knight shouted almost reflexively in anger before he realised what he had done, and immediately kneeled, "Please, your grace, not this... just do not ask me this..." he urged in a quivering voice, almost begging him.
There is nothing more disgraceful for a knight, for a Kingsguard, than to even think of surrendering his arms to an enemy of his Lord, especially if it was one who had killed his Master.
It would be more painful for him than a thousand deaths.
"I know I ask much of you, Ser," The man said with a sad smile, "But this is the only way..." he sighed as he turned around, "Robert... he will surely be happy to grant you a pardon, I know it. After all, you were originally from Stormlands, and he respects you a lot."
"I can't betray my oath, your grace... Otherwise, what would it all have been for? I stood by as your father committed countless atrocities, all while telling myself that I am a Kingsguard, that I am bound by an oath, but if I break it now... I..."
"You will not be breaking anything, Ser Barristan," The man explained gently, knowing well how humiliating it must be for him as a knight, but he, too, had no choice. "You may serve him in name, but in essence, you will still be following my will. So by doing this, you shall perhaps become an even greater knight, because I do not think there are many men out there who follow their Lord's desires even after his demise. Though, unfortunately, I can't say many will know of your valour."
"Why, your grace? Why should I live? Why can't you..." He asked in a broken, frustrated voice, gripping his sword so tightly that his bones began to hurt, "What use would my worthless life be if you are gone?"
Ser Barristan could not clearly remember how it had all gone so wrong, how they had all ended up in this situation.
No, perhaps, he and everyone else knew that the starting point of all this turmoil was that blasted Tourney; it was that which ruined all their hopes for the silent coup.
They had done so much, prepared so many contingencies, only for it all to go to waste because of a single mistake.
And that is what frustrated them the most, because they had all individually gone to ask this of the prince, of why he had given it all up for just a single girl... the reason behind it all.
Because there had to be one, as all of them knew in their hearts that it was almost impossible for the truth to be as everyone out there already believed, that the Prince had simply become enamoured with the girl at first sight, that he lost control of his senses because of her beauty, and that it all merely... lust.
No one knew better than the Kingsguard, especially Ser Barristan and Ser Arthur Dayne, the kind of person the prince was, how very much unlike the other nobles he was, royalty or not.
And that he never let his base desires, or the power his station commands, ever get to his head.
In fact, in the time that Ser Barristan had known him, he had never even seen him go to a brothel or take advantage of a maid or even look at any woman inappropriately.
Even though it was as common as drinking water for anyone with even a lick of noble blood in their veins to try and force themselves on any girl they fancy.
He was a gentle soul through and through, the kind who would rather spend his day reading in a library, or playing his harp in a small tavern to bring smiles of joy to the tired smallfolks, rather than indulge in wine and women like his father.
And even though the man abhorred the thought of fighting and killing, he still woke up early every single day and went to the training grounds because he knew that it was his duty as the prince of the realm... so for such a principled man to break his oath to his wife just because of a momentary impulse seemed almost impossible.
But the answer he gave them was such that... they could not even argue.
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