After leaving the training grounds after Mary and her Royal Guard arrived to train Edmund, Tristan found himself wandering with a small smile on his face, thinking about a future that was within arm's reach, granting him soemthing that he could have only imagined. There was always the chance he could have run off alone before to fulfil his dreams, but his fear of the outside world had become a shackle on that. With Edmund's words, he felt those shackles loosen ever so slightly.
In the distance, he saw Elias and Mabel happily talking. Their gazes met, and, quickly taking to the side, he placed a hand on his chest and bowed, his happy smile changing to a polite half-smile. "I greet the Prince and Princess."
"Rise, Tristan. Come with us." Tristan's lips dropped ever so slightly. Looking around and seeing the servants watching with interest as they continued their duties, he couldn't help but be annoyed at how openly they were acting. Yet without reason to refuse, he closely followed behind, making sure to stand behind them and not say a word unless spoken to.
They didn't object to Tristan's silence finishing their conversation. Tristan pretended not to listen, something easily seen through by them all. 'Mindless chatter about the tournament. Everyone seems to be excited for it.' Grabbing his chin, he pondered it. 'It's quite sudden. The King says it to celebrate his accession to the throne, but is that really all? After all, Anton has never been known to do things like this.'
Tristan thought about the rumours and stories around Anton. There were many that could be debated, so that exemplified his worst and best qualities, but one that was consistent was a duty-bound man who didn't partake in his own pleasures. Everyone in the realm knew the Battle on the Silent Hills. A story of Anton holding the hills alone, with resources cut off during the Dester Rebellion, the war in which the Lord of Kript rose up in protest to a perceived threat to their culture.
Tristan closed his eyes and shuddered internally at the stories that came from that battle. Alone with at most fifty men, Anton lived foraging and sleeping in the hills, launching attacks alone against the pursuing forces. It was a battle where he should have lost, and it was the reason he became known as 'Webweaver,' the hills being littered with blood red silk that hung hundreds of bodies.
'Would a man who refused a reward after that, saying it was his duty, really hold a tournament to celebrate himself. It doesn't make sense.' Fiddling with his fingers, he shook his head. 'Why announce it now as well, not after his coronation. No, it feels like a distraction from soemthing else.' His finger twitched as he came to a conclusion. 'The only thing that would spook anyone is the talk of a heresy. With Mary having Edmund look into it, it shows he only leaves it to those he trusts completely.'
Tristan turned into the side room that Elias and Mabel entered. The King's Guard took the door and closed it behind the three, letting them talk alone. "Tristan, you will compete in the tournament my father is hosting." Elais siad as soon as they were in private. Taking a seat, he interlocked his fingers and stared into his eyes, the same disgust he always looked at him with present.
"If that is your..." Elais raised his hand to stop him from spewing out fake pleasantries. Tristan took a deep breath and met the deep black gaze, "May I ask why?" His tone changed, becoming flatter. Elias nodded and leaned forward.
"Because I am telling you to. You have already claimed to be on my side and turning the tournament, the single jousts there shall be team jousts." Elias smiled, "I can't trust you, Tristan, especially with you saying there are other choices available to you. So during the team joust, I want you to publicly side with me. Show everyone whose side you are joining."
"Forgive me, my prince." Tristan honestly spoke, "I don't know how to. I never had a father to teach me." With a thin smile, he looked into Elias's eyes, thankful for the first time at never having parents. Elais frowned and watched, clicking his tongue when he realised Triatns was being honest.
"Can you ride a horse?" Elias asked.
"I can sit on it as it slowly trods along, but that's it." Elias's frown deepened.
"How has a Cosmaton not learnt any of this. Are you really my blood?" Tristan thinly smiled and shrugged. Elais leaned back and sighed. Tapping his thumbs together, he thought of looking towards Mabel. His thumbs stopped as he smiled and looked back at Tristan.
"There will be many feats over the few days of the tournament. During one, you will ask Mabel for a dance." Elias siad without care.
"Brother." Mabel shot up and shot hi ma hard look, "Are you crazy? You know..." Elias narrowed his eyes. There was a slight chill in them as he ordered her to stop talking with his look alone.
"You cannot refuse this, Tristan. Even if you can't dance, the mere action of asking my sister to dance is enough to make those with a brain understand who you wish to align yourself with." Elias looked back at Mabel, "You will accept and show everyone that he is being allowed into the fold."
Mabel clenched her fists. "I refuse a slow dance."
"Done." Elias easily agreed, "Different feasts will play different music. You can decide which one suits your fancy once Father has prepared everything." Elias turned back to Tristan, "Added to this, you will take part in the duels."
Tristan gazed hard at being ordered to do so much that would put a spotlight on him, "Why?"
"Being unknown and accepted by us is strange for all who see. You must show soemthing." Elias casually said. Tristan watched him and shook his head.
"No." Staring into his eyes, he saw his gaze sharpen through narrow slits. "The thing you desire from me, what I have shown to be my greatest strength, only works if I do not have people looking at me." Tristan took a step back, "I am a nameless Princeling." Resting his hand on his chest, he bowed, "That will never change, and it is better if I remain that."
"Then how do you explain my sister accepting your dance, Tristan?" Tristan chuckled and shook his head. Rising, he looked at the woman.
"Simple. We were smitten with each other at first glance, but kept things hidden until now." Mabel clenched her teeth at Tristan's bold plan, her face darkening from her brother's laughs, "Either way, you are the one who is ordering me to do this. If the Princess disagrees, I believe you can think of a better alternative."
"Fine." Elias waved his hand. "You can go." Elias turned to Mabel, "It's not a terrible idea..." His voice trailed as Tristan left the room and slowly walked back to his own. Above, Annabell jumped from chandelier to chandelier, staying out of sight.
Tristan didn't bother to call her down despite wishing to pet her, knowing she liked playing on them, under the excuse of watching over him. 'Dancing with Mabel will be dangerous. Forget the realms' Lords who wish for her hand, Anton will know about me.' Thinking of the two children, he shook his head, 'He probably already does because of those two. But this is dangerous. Elais already believed I wished to marry her for the throne. What would Anton think if he saw this?'
Tristan paused and stepped to the side. Resting a hand on his chest, he held his breath, seeing a man with golden hair that reached his ears, wearing a monocle, holding a stack of papers. By his side, two people spoke to him, each with a different conversation, the man easily holding both at once.
Tristan gulped and lowered his head as Brandon got closer. Peeking up, he looked towards his face. It was for a moment, hardly a second, but the two met each other's gaze, and with it he saw a cold pupil looking at him from the corner of its eye. It's a cold, invasive look, trying to shred him apart and see the deepest secrets he held before putting him back together. It was chilling, flushing Tristan back with sweat.
It was a moment, but Tristan felt everything he kept in his heart, from the voice before his birth to his hypotheticals about Anton's death, had been laid bare. His throat tightened as if a cold hand rested on it, feeling like a head leaned over next to his ear as Brandon's voice whispered quietly, 'found you.' Even with his back turned on him, Tristan felt he was still being watched by the man.
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Far enough away, Bradon stopped his two aides from talking. "Did you see?" On his back, a chameleon opened its eyes, making the two aides jump in surprise, not noticing the invincible creature.
"A dove above." The chameleon stared at the chandeliers, "It could see me."
"You're sure?" Brandon said with a serious tone.
"Just a feeling." The chameleon closed its eyes.
"Carry on." Telling his aides, they continued their endless dronning baoput issues. Listening with one ear, he narrowed his gaze, 'Such observant eyes. He watched me in my room, yet he is terrified of me in person.' His eyes narrowed even more. Reaching up, he fiddles with his monocle, 'No ambition in his gaze, yet he's cautious. He's hiding something.'