Chapter 452: Side Story: The White Dragon – Part 1

“Seems everyone and his dog can be knighted these days.”

Wolfgar Ricaydo leaped off his giant gray warhorse, clicking his tongue in disapproval.

The gloomy-faced man who shadowed his every move accepted the reins. “I couldn’t agree more!” he eagerly chimed in. “I simply cannot fathom why His Majesty would want to ennoble that half-breed mutt.”

“No doubt this ridiculous display is simply to test the patience of the court,” Wolfgar snarled. “Everyone knows our liege enjoys throwing stones into calm waters.”

“I hear Count Valmir has refused to be a witness to the ceremony.”

“Count Valmir is a man of resolve,” Wolfgar remarked before adding sharply, “It’s a shame I can’t say the same about my father. To think he would engage in this nonsense just to humor the king…”

“Brother.”

Unable to stand their conversation any longer, Ursuline strode up to the pair.

Wolfgar’s deep blue eyes swept over his younger brother from head to toe. A look of hostility flashed across his face, then vanished.

“What a surprise,” said Wolfgar, reaching out to pat Ursuline’s shoulder, which was now noticeably higher than it had been a few years ago. “How you’ve grown. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“Yes, it’s been a while.”

Wolfgar squeezed Ursuline’s shoulder almost painfully before letting go. “Did you come here with Father?”

“I have been training with the Royal Guard since last year,” Ursuline replied calmly.

“The Royal Guard?” Creases formed between Wolfgar’s brows. “Does Father intend for you to join the royal knights?”

Ursuline tensed ever so slightly, detecting the hostility in his voice.

Sneering, Wolfgar muttered cynically, “Looks like he is still busy fawning over the royal family.”

“Father is merely serving the crown as His Majesty’s loyal subject.”

Wolfgar had been imperiously looking down at him until that point. At Ursuline’s retort, he viciously grabbed a fistful of his brother’s golden locks and twisted his head from side to side as if examining a stallion.

“You still have peach fuzz on your face. How old are you now?”

“I shall be seventeen in four months.”

“It’ll be a few more years until you become useful as a knight.”

Ursuline struggled to keep the grimace off his face.

Wolfgar leveled his gaze at his brother, stressing every word as if to imprint them onto his mind. “Remember this, boy. You will be my vassal one day. You can train with the Royal Guard all you want, but I cannot have you becoming a faithful dog like our father. Do you understand me?”

Instead of replying, Ursuline merely glared at Wolfgar, his eyes full of animosity.

Lips tightening with displeasure, Wolfgar yanked his hand away. “I should ask Father to let me have you as my squire. I must do something before he ruins you completely.”

He then patted Ursuline on the back as if to suggest that his violent behavior had been nothing but a playful prank and proceeded down the passage leading to Drachium Palace. Ursuline stared after him for a good while before turning away, brushing his disheveled hair back into place.

As always, an encounter with Wolfgar Ricaydo left him feeling anxious and with a bitter taste in his mouth. He rubbed his throbbing shoulder while recalling his half-brother’s arrogant eyes.

Wolfgar, with his belligerent attitude, thought little of their gentle and meek father. Having lost his mother at a young age, he had spent his childhood with his maternal grandfather, the Marquis of Ardenbrook, so he had had little opportunity to bond with his father.

What’s more, the Marquis of Ardenbrook had been strongly opposed to the Armistice of the Seven Kingdoms and bore great animosity toward the royal family of Wedon. It was only natural, then, that he would not look so kindly on his son-in-law, who was loyal to King Reuben. Wolfgar, for his part, was sympathetic to his grandfather.

I didn’t expect him to attend this ceremony…

Ursuline looked suspiciously at Wolfgar’s men gathered at a corner of the training ground. What could he be up to? Was he planning to make trouble at the palace to cause a rift between their father and His Majesty?

As Ursuline was contemplating, the blast of a kopel sounded from a distance. He turned toward the gates to see a row of knights in dark blue robes entering the palace. Despite the distance, Ursuline immediately recognized the white dragon emblem on their surcoats.

The Remdragon Knights.

They were a knightly order that had begun to make a name for itself in the East over the last few years. Ursuline stood on the steps and scanned the incoming knights. Each and every one of them was well-built and light on their feet. The man to be knighted today would be among them.

He moved to the end of the training ground to get a better look. According to the rumors, the knight-to-be was a swordsman who had inherited the weapon of one of Darian the Monarch’s twelve knights, Sir Miguel. The entire palace was abuzz with stories about how he had risen from humble origins to become a vassal knight of a king. Ursuline wondered what kind of person he would be.

“There you are.”

A voice called out from behind. Ursuline turned to find a stately man dressed in the uniform of the royal knights descending the steps to the tower.

Ursuline immediately straightened his back. “Sir Arthus.”

“Your father is looking for you,” said the man, striding over and giving Ursuline a gentle pat on the back. “I believe he wishes to introduce you to the royalist nobles ahead of your knighting next year. You should get changed and head for the banquet hall.”

Ursuline furrowed his brows. “But, Commander, you and Sir Rubrick have already agreed to be a witness at my ceremony.”

“The more witnesses at a knighting ceremony, the better. Your father must cherish you dearly. You see, quite a number of the guests at this event are loyal followers of His Majesty, so I’m sure your father means for you to forge some useful connections,” Arthus replied with a mischievous grin.

Ursuline swallowed a sigh. It grated on him that his father still treated him like a child, simply because he was born in the count’s later years. Suppressing his annoyance, Ursuline started toward his lodgings.

***

Ursuline changed into formal attire and headed toward the main castle. He passed hundreds of servants busily moving from building to building, hauling firewood, buckets of water, and bottles of wine. The sheer number of people at work was astonishing. He crossed the bustling gardens and stepped into the great hall, lavishly lit with thousands of candles.

There are more people here than I expected.

Ursuline cast an eye around the vast space with surprise. This knighting ceremony had provoked a great deal of controversy. When news of the king’s decision to bestow a title and land upon a squire of lowly origins — one who had even been a mercenary — was made known, many expressed their disapproval, and even the royalist nobles did not seem all too pleased.

And yet, the hall was teeming with hundreds of guests. Ursuline found out the reason soon enough.

They’re all curious.

A few steps away from him, a group of nobles were chattering about whether “the lowly one” would present himself at the banquet hall. Ursuline deduced that most of these people had attended to see the rumored knight-to-be with their own eyes.

He shot them a sardonic look before moving further into the hall, where he saw high-ranking nobles sitting around a long table. They wore extravagant doublets, fur coats adorned with jewels, and plumed hats, all in the latest fashion.

Ursuline scanned the opulently dressed nobles until he located his father among them. He cautiously approached. “I was told you were looking for me.”

The count paused just before taking a sip of his wine and turned around. Warmth spread across his wrinkled face.

“You’re here.”

Ursuline’s father rose from his seat and pulled his son in front of one of the nobles.

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet. This is Lord Evan Triton, a viscount and an old friend of mine. I’m sure you would have heard of him. He’s an eccentric who turned down the commander position of the royal knights to lead a group of mavericks in the East.”

That must be in reference to the Remdragon Knights. Ursuline studied the lithe man with curiosity. He was middle-aged with wavy brown hair and dark brown eyes. He wore a genial smile as he addressed Ursuline’s father.

“What a handsome lad. You must be very proud to have a son like him, my lord.”

Ursuline knitted his brows ever so slightly. The man was treating him like a five-year-old, which stung his pride. He did not let his feelings show, however, and instead bowed his head respectfully.

“It is a pleasure, Lord Triton. My name is Ursuline Ricaydo. I am presently training at the palace to become a knight.”

Triton made a sound of approval, his dark brown eyes twinkling with interest. “Who is training you?”

“I am learning from Sir Van Arthus.”

“Ah, yes, Arthus.” Triton stroked his well-groomed beard and nodded. “He is quite formidable. I remember him as a rather hot-tempered fellow. It must be a challenge being his student.”

Ursuline kept quiet.

Triton grinned knowingly. “Well, do your best, son. We will soon be in need of more able knights.”

A worried expression crossed the count’s face at the implication. “I heard there have been some strange movements in Dristan. Are we to expect war in the East?”

“Dristan will always bear arms at the first opportunity. But my reasons for saying so go beyond Dristan. As you know, there will always be those who bear discontent against the existing order.”

The count fell silent, most likely recalling the Marquis of Ardenbrook and his own eldest son. When he spoke again, his voice was somber. “The more swords there are to serve His Majesty, the better.”

“Speaking of which, I am grateful that you have agreed to be a witness to this ceremony, Lord Ricaydo. You made it much easier for me to persuade the other nobles.”

“It was no trouble at all. From what I hear, he is an exceptional young man. A man of such talent must be given his fair due.”

The count spoke in a benevolent tone, but he didn’t seem overly interested in the man he had agreed to witness the knighting of. He immediately changed the subject.

“So, how long do you intend to stay in the capital?”

“We plan to ride northeast as soon as the ceremony is over. We’ve been told that the Sylvaros region has been ravaged by griffins, so we have decided to stay there this season and exterminate…”

His calm voice trailed off. Ursuline had only been half-listening to the conversation, hiding his boredom, but he now looked at the man quizzically. Triton was frowning so hard that wrinkles had formed around his eyes, as if he had a terrible headache.

Not only that, but the previously rowdy hall had fallen eerily silent.