The knights had meticulously set up the tents, their sturdy fabric standing tall against the darkened backdrop of the forest. Tristan reappeared with a bundle of firewood, his arrival signaling the preparation for a much-needed meal around a flickering flame.
Within the shadowy embrace of the trees, lanterns cast their feeble glow, scattering pockets of light throughout the campsite. Some exhausted knights had already succumbed to the lull of sleep, seeking respite from their arduous journey. Others paused momentarily, taking a momentary break to savor their supper.
Amidst the tranquil surroundings, the crackling fire served as the only acoustic companion. It whispered its warmth and comfort, intermingling with the occasional rustle of leaves, swayed by an unseen breeze. As the silence enveloped the camp, it offered a peaceful respite from the clamor of the world beyond.
Feeling the weight of his thoughts, Tristan lifted his gaze, meeting the inquisitive eyes of Roland. With a mouthful of food, Roland managed to utter his concern in a composed voice, "You look like you have something on your mind, Sir Tristan. Is there anything wrong? " offering a listening ear to his troubled comrade. Tristan, wearied and burdened, returned Roland's gaze and let out a sigh of surrender, his head gently shaking in response.
"I will keep watch tonight. Eat your food and get some rest," replied Sir Tristan simply as he stood up and started to walk away. However, Roland called after him, concerned for his friend's well-being.
"Sir Tristan, wait up. You've been on watch for three nights in a row. You should eat something and get some rest as well. I will take the first watch," Roland said, hoping to convince Tristan to take care of himself.
Tristan waved his hand nonchalantly, dismissing Roland's words, and kept walking towards the woods. "Don't argue with me, Sir Roland. Just get some rest," he said softly over his shoulder, his voice filled with determination. With that, Tristan disappeared into the trees, leaving Roland to groan in frustration. He knew it was futile to try and stop Tristan when he had made up his mind.
Tristan found a spot under a large oak tree and settled down. The moon had already risen high in the sky, casting its silver light on the treetops and illuminating the path of the knights and the tents in front of him. It was a peaceful scene, filled with an eerie tranquility. Yet, despite the calmness of the night, a sense of unease began to creep upon Tristan.
The uneasiness grew with every passing moment, intensifying the feeling that something was amiss. The silence seemed too profound, too unnatural. Tristan's senses heightened, his eyes scanning the shadows, searching for any signs of danger. He could hear the faint rustling of leaves and the distant hoot of an owl, but there was an unsettling absence of other sounds that should have been present in a camp at night.
Something felt off, really, really off.
Tristan turned swiftly to his left, his eyes catching a glimpse of a mysterious figure meandering through the dense forest. Curiosity ignited within him as he fixated on the enigmatic being. Motionless at first, the figure suddenly halted, slowly pirouetting to face Tristan. A hood shrouded the person's face, concealing their identity. Tristan blinked, his gaze locked with the silhouette that seemed to be piercing his very soul. Evidently, there was someone lurking, observing his every move. However, it wasn't a knight, nor could he discern the individual's true identity from his current vantage point.
Abruptly, the figure spun around and melted into the shadows of the looming tree line, an ethereal disappearance that sent a chill down Tristan's spine.
"Someone has been watching me all this time," Tristan murmured, his voice laced with a potent mixture of astonishment and discomfort. He clenched his fist, his brows furrowing as an unfamiliar anger surged from the depths of his being—a sensation foreign to him, but not entirely unwelcome.
"The only person capable of such stealth and secrecy is Gavriel," Tristan pondered aloud, his mind grappling with the implications of this clandestine watcher.
***
Gavriel reclined in his chair, crossing his arms atop his chest with a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. His eyes shimmered with a playful glint, and his hands rested comfortably behind his head. As he took a sip from his glass of rich red wine, his smirk grew into an evil grin. Across from him, three young noble men sat on the couch, engrossed in their lively conversation and laughter, their plates of food before them. The air in the room was filled with the delightful aroma of cinnamon, cloves, and freshly baked bread.
The first man glanced back at Gavriel, his gaze peering over the rim of his glasses, and raised an eyebrow, questioning the expression on Gavriel's face. "What's with that look?" he asked curiously.
The second man, his hair as dark as the midnight sky, snorted and said, "Haven't you heard? George, Gav is soon to be wed."
The third man, a short blonde, dropped his fork onto his plate with a loud clatter. He stared at the other two men, disbelief etched on his face. "Really? Are you serious?"
"Indeed," the second man replied, confirming the news with a nod of his head.
"Whoa! So you're finally ready to settle down? That's hard to believe. You're quite the enigma, aren't you?" The third man exclaimed, his expression filled with shock. Gavriel couldn't help but chuckle at their reactions. He placed his wine glass on the small white table beside his chair and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and folding his fingers together.
"Mikael, George, Thane is right. I am indeed getting married soon," Gavriel announced confidently. Mikael and George immediately halted whatever they were doing and stared at Gavriel in disbelief. Thane, after momentarily opening and closing his mouth, finally found his voice again.
"I never expected you to confirm it so boldly. I thought it was just a mere rumor!" Thane exclaimed, with George nodding in agreement.
"It's truly surprising. When did you decide that you wanted to settle down?" George asked, his curiosity clearly piqued. He pushed his glasses upwards with a finger, adjusting them higher up his nose.
"And what about all those girls..." Mikael's words trailed off as he caught sight of Gavriel's stern glare. "Uh... I mean... what I meant to say was..."
Thane burst into laughter, clapping his hands together in amusement.
Gavriel reclined in his chair, crossing his legs with a casual air. Though his smile remained, it dimmed slightly as his gaze wandered into the distance. "I used to be the one pursued by all those ladies who wanted to be my wife, I suppose," he mused. Without turning to his friends, he asked, "By the way... what do women like?"
Impatience crept into Gavriel's demeanor as he tapped his fingers against the armrest of his chair. When no answers came forth, a frown etched itself onto his face.
George tilted his head, his expression one of puzzlement, while Mikael raised an eyebrow and furrowed his brow. "What do women like?" he echoed. "Are you referring to gifts?"
Thane, amused, interjected, "You should have more insight into that than any of us." Gavriel shot him a glare.
"Well, um..." Mikael scratched his neck, deep in thought. "Perhaps... expensive jewelry?"
Gavriel hummed, contemplating the suggestion. "I suppose that might work. Although she doesn't strike me as someone who appreciates extravagant gifts," he pondered aloud.
The three friends exchanged shocked glances, their surprise mirrored in their eyes. Gavriel sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb.
"Who's this enchanting woman that has captured your attention?" George smiled widely and leaned forward in his seat, intrigued.
Gavriel chuckled softly and shook his head. "Oh, she's not that stunning, nor is she plain. She's not a magnificent damsel, but for some reason, I find myself quite smitten by her," he replied casually, his gaze fixed on the wine glass before him.
Mikael, George, and Thane exchanged wide-eyed glances, their mouths hanging open in disbelief. "He's in love," they exclaimed simultaneously, their voices filled with astonishment.
Thane smirked and spoke up, breaking the stunned silence. "Well, I never thought I'd live to see the day you finally fall for someone," he remarked playfully.
Gavriel raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Hold on now, I did say I was smitten, but it doesn't necessarily mean I'm head over heels in love with her," he clarified, reaching for his wine glass and gently swirling the liquid within.
Thane let out a boisterous laugh. "Oh, there's no need to convince us otherwise, my friend. We can see it written all over your face," he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
'Actually, it's because she's a very intriguing young lady,' Gavriel pondered, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 'That resolve she showed that day... I can't help but wish to witness her vulnerability and to see her shattered.' A small smirk formed on his lips as he entertained his own thoughts.
George's curiosity piqued, and he smiled. "So what's your plan, Gav?"
Gavriel reclined in his seat, his demeanor casual but brimming with unwavering resolve. "I want her to fall in love with me," he admitted, his voice carrying a hint of anticipation. His stormy-grey eyes glistened with excitement, relishing the prospect of embarking on another enthralling pursuit, where he could play with a woman's heart as if it were his own personal toy.
George's eyebrows arched with skepticism. "You're joking, right?"
A self-assured grin spread across Gavriel's face as he sipped his wine. "Do I sound like someone who would jest about such matters?" he asked calmly, his confidence evident in his smug expression.