The king observed the determination etched in Karson's expression, a mixture of youthful bravado and undeniable recklessness. He felt a weight settle in his chest, understanding that this decision would have serious ramifications within the palace walls. Rather than exacerbate the tension, the king resolved to allow the ceremony to unfold as planned, intending to intervene when the time was right.
As the ceremony progressed, the atmosphere was thick with anticipation. Traditionally, once a knight had been chosen, they were to kneel before the noble person—in this case, Arissa—and swear an oath that was unbreakable and binding. The hall was filled with knights and nobility, each person waiting with bated breath.
Just as Karson prepared to speak his oath, the king, seated beside Arissa, abruptly snapped, his voice cutting through the murmurs. "Step back," he commanded, his tone stern.
"Pardon, Your Highness?" Karson replied, confusion furrowing his brow.
"I said step back…" The king's voice was low and simmering with an anger that had rarely been witnessed by the court.
Arissa's heart sank. This was unprecedented—never had she seen a sovereign intervene so forcefully in such a sacred tradition. Karson hesitated for a moment before stepping back, the weight of the king's gaze heavy upon him. The murmurs in the crowd escalated, a mixture of shock and disapproval swirling like a tempest.
"Arissa," the king continued, his gaze unwavering, "you will choose a different knight. That is my command."
The room erupted into a cacophony of voices, the nobles whispering among themselves, while Karson knelt at the side of Arissa's throne, his reputation hanging in the balance. Arissa felt a surge of anger rise within her; she had warned Karson against this very moment, and now, his honor was at stake.
Turning to the crowd, Arissa fought to suppress her frustration. She scanned the room, her eyes searching for a candidate who might restore some semblance of dignity to the occasion. Her gaze fell upon a young man standing at the back—his golden hair glimmered in the candlelight, and his porcelain skin contrasted sharply with his fierce, golden eyes. While she was initially struck by his appearance, it was the intensity of his gaze that captivated her. It reminded her of a boy from her childhood—a young protector who had stood up against injustice and defended those less fortunate.
With a decisive motion, Arissa pointed toward him. "You! Step forward!" The room fell silent, the air thick with expectation as all eyes turned to him.
The young man, a poor orphan named George Kluxe, stepped forward hesitantly, the clapping from the crowd attempting to dispel the earlier tension. As he approached the throne, the announcer's voice rang out, "George Kluxe!"
George had no title, no lineage—just a resolute spirit. As he knelt before Arissa, the absence of hope in his eyes struck her. Yet, he spoke his oath with unwavering conviction. "I shall respect the honor of my lord and its people, never to refuse a challenge from an equal, never to turn my back upon a foe. I swear on my life to protect Princess Arissa and the Celeste Kingdom from any harm."
After he spoke, the maids gently tilted his head down, leaving it bowed before Arissa. They lit the oath in a magical flame, a process that transformed the words into a binding spell. They took a stamp, pressing it into the fire before placing it against George's neck, marking him for life. Many knights grimaced at the pain of the ritual, but George remained stoic, betraying no emotion.
Arissa felt a mixture of pride and sadness. The guards soon arrived to escort Karson away, and with a deep breath, she picked up the imperial sword. She approached George, performing the final rite of knighthood by laying the sword upon each of his shoulders, infusing him with her blessing.
As she took her seat once more, George stood behind her, now officially her personal knight. She cast a glance at her father, who wore a smile that felt more like a mask, barely concealing his displeasure.
The atmosphere in the hall shifted as the earlier tension faded. The nobles resumed their conversations, laughter echoing as Arissa engaged with the young women of her court, strategizing alliances and friendships. She felt a sense of empowerment in her new role, yet the image of Karson's disappointed face lingered in her mind.
What would he say? Would he understand her choice? The questions gnawed at her as she tried to focus on the festivities. Deep down, she knew that the path ahead would not be easy—she had to navigate the complexities of her newfound responsibilities and the ramifications of her decisions.
As the evening wore on, the music swelled, and Arissa lost herself in the moment, yet her heart remained tethered to the unresolved tension surrounding Karson. She was determined to make this right, but the path to redemption was still shrouded in uncertainty.