Kingdom of Iron: Tyrant's Fall

Matt was weaving his way through his mantras again when he felt the shift of magic around him. He focused, not wanting to lose the progress he'd made, and managed to finish the sequence a moment later. As he did, there was a knock at the door.

He looked up and nodded to Tiridine, who had been watching over him as he practiced. The Red Moon Orc hesitated for a moment and then swung the door open while Matt was getting to his feet.

Lucy walked into the room, accompanied by two of her Knights. She grinned at him. "Still working on that Source? I'm a little jealous. It feels like I never have enough time to make progress these days."

Matt gave her a thin smile. "Actually, working on a new one. Got the most recent one taken care of." Boredom had driven him to get started on the Foundation for Water immediately after he'd mastered his most recent spells. He'd made quite a bit of progress already, though he was certain that Melren had said that later Sources should have taken more time. Maybe his damaged Sources didn't count?

She tilted her head and studied him with interest. "Is that so? You'll have to show me what you can do later." Her smile blossomed. "You know, since we're at peace now."

His eyebrows shot up. "They signed?"

"Yep! Just felt it come through, and the document was complete when I checked." She stuck out her hand. "Welcome to peace, King Matthew."

He grinned and shook her hand. "Not quite there yet, but closer now." Matt glanced at Tiridine, who had suddenly relaxed. "My forces should be here in a few days. When they get here, we can head west."

Lucy nodded. They'd discussed their next steps in general terms occasionally, though the specifics couldn't be finalized before the treaty was finished. "My own forces should be here soon as well. Reinforcements for the ones I have here, and a few more commanders. Turns out that some of them are interested in meeting you as well, Tyrant of Iron."

Matt grimaced. "I really need to find myself a new title. Calling myself by the things my enemies come up with is starting to seem… unpleasant."

She laughed. "It's not a problem I share, actually. My people seem to keep surprising me with new titles every so often."

One of Lucy's bodyguards coughed into her hand. "It's only an expression of our appreciation for all that you've done, my Lady."

Lucy gave the bodyguard a roll of her eyes. "If you say so, Semath. It just makes me feel like it's going to take me an hour to introduce myself at this rate."

Matt chuckled. "At least nobody will try to run for the exits when you arrive."

Tiridine gave a bark of laughter. "If they are so weak to be scared of a name, they may not survive your actual presence, sire!"

"Then I suppose we should all be glad we are made of sterner stuff here." Lucy grinned at Matt, and he snorted in amusement. Then her smile faded slightly. "So, in celebration of our newfound peace, some of the Knights wanted to throw a kind of party."

Semath cleared her throat. "A feast, my Lady. Both to celebrate the treaty and welcome our guests."

Lucy nodded to her gratefully. "Apparently it's tradition to do so when you arrive, but things were a little too tense for that." She looked back at Matt. "Would you be interested in attending?"

Matt hesitated. A large banquet wasn't exactly something he was looking forward to, and not just from a desire to continue focusing on his Sources and avoid socializing. Almost every large celebration he'd attended had resulted in someone trying to kill him, minus a handful back in Redspire or Ashpeak.

Still, maybe without any nobles to worry about it would be a bit safer. Besides, it was his opportunity to show his new partners in peace that he wasn't quite the butcher the Alliance had painted him as. "I would. I'll try and convince some of the others to show up as well. Maybe Tanya could use a party to distract her."

Lucy bit her lip. "Is the Maiden of Art giving you trouble, Matt?"

He tried to suppress the thrill he heard at her using his name. "A little. She's never taken well to being cooped up, and she's practically chained herself to Miguel's bed lately. The fact that they are all cramped in there together probably isn't helping."

"Well, let them know they'll all be welcome, then." Lucy frowned and brushed at his tunic's shoulder. "Though we might have to find some decent clothing for you."

Matt raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Are you saying the Tyrant of Iron is looking shabby?"

She smirked at him. "You looked fine enough when you arrived. A few days on the road just usually aren't very kind to fancy clothes."

He rolled his eyes. "We have a few things we brought with us originally for just such an occasion. I guarantee we will all dress to impress."

Lucy nodded. "I'm looking forward to seeing it." Her nose wrinkled for a moment, and a curious look entered her eyes. She started to say something and then seemed to think better of it. "I'll see you tonight."

Matt smiled as she waved and walked away, watching her stride down the hallway. He continued staring for a few more moments until Tiridine cleared her throat. The Orc looked amused when he looked at her, and he snorted. "Not you too."

Tiridine shrugged, her smile becoming a full-blown grin. "Your people are happy to see things develop, sire. We were growing… concerned."

"About what? Whether or not I was too hideous for other Humans to endure?" He caught a flicker of embarrassment on Tiridine's face, and he sighed. "It doesn't matter anyway, Tiridine. We're still at war with the Alliance."

"All wars end, sire. Winter fades and new life blooms." The Orc's smile became a little mysterious.

Matt raised an eyebrow. "I didn't realize you were such a poet. Perhaps I should say that you're the new Maiden of Rhyme."

Tiridine blanched. "No thank you, sire." Then she chuckled. "Besides, I'm sure the Maiden of Honor will occupy more than enough of your attention."

He snorted. "Is that Riley's latest attempt at a title for Lucy?"

The Orc paused. "No. The Maiden of Books didn't like it, actually, but hers didn't seem to fit either."

Matt blinked. "What was it?"

"The Maiden of Revolution." Tiridine chuckled. "I see it doesn't appeal to you either."

He shook his head. "Not quite." Matt looked back at where he'd been sitting and debated over whether to continue the mantras for the day. In the end, he gave in to the temptation to go and visit the others. The party was an excuse to poke his head in again and see how Gorfeld was doing, at least, and he could always get back to it later.

There would be time enough after the party, anyway.

Hours later, Matt looked around at the others and paused. "Are we ready?"

Tanya answered for them. She was dressed in a blue gown that she'd brought from Redspire, and Miguel was standing next to her with his own red version of Matt's military tunic. The contrast between them was striking to say the least. "We're ready, cowboy. Just don't get stabbed this time."

He grinned at her, though there was a tinge of honesty in the words. "I'll try."

Then he looked at the others. Alicia had worn a white dress, one that seemed to conflict with the sword at her side. Jessica and Jordan had worn matching green clothes with veins of gold thread running through them, while Riley was dressed like she was trying to hide. She had a dark brown cloak over similarly brown tunic and pants, and the Maiden of Books had the hood drawn up over her short hair. When Matt looked at her, she gave him a nervous nod, and then went back to staring at the door to the hall like it was a gateway to hell itself.

Matt drew in a deep breath. He'd gone with the same tunic and pants that he'd worn to the coronation, back at the start of it all. It probably wasn't as sharp and impressive as the others' outfits, but the dark color and severe cut probably fit his reputation well enough. He had to confess a weakness for the cloak, too, as impractical as it was.

With a nod to his lifeguards, Matt strode forward, and the others followed. An ocean of murmurs spread out in front of him as he entered the courtyard of the castle. Mornal hadn't been built with a large enough room for a banquet, so as a result, the Knights had decided to hold their banquet outside under the stars. They had set up tables and chairs for both the guests from the Kingdom and the visitors from across the Pridelands, and the servants from the castle's usual staff were scurrying around the place distributing drinks and food. There had even been an attempt to block off the stables, probably to prevent the Wargs and greatelks from disturbing things.

The waves of conversation abruptly stilled as the Knights turned to face him. A few quiet exclamations echoed through the courtyard, but most of them looked content to study the outsiders in silence.

To his surprise, Matt recognized one of the faces in the crowd. It was Torfelt, the messenger that had brought the agreement to Bridgeton. He had to have ridden hard to return to Castle Mornal so quickly. All the same, he showed little sign of it as he approached them. The Knight bowed with stiff formality. "King Matthew. Allow me to extend my congratulations on our recent treaty, as well as my happiness that you survived the attempts on your life."

Matt nodded, feeling a pang of grief. Having Torfelt here and Gorfeld still unconscious seemed unfair somehow. "Thank you. I am glad it all worked out as well."

Torfelt stepped closer. "Also, allow me to extend my condolences for the situation of your steward. I will make sure that nothing here threatens him."

He gave the Knight a closer look. The comparison to Gorfeld's demeanor abruptly was cause for concern, given what he'd learned about the Imp's actual abilities. "You think there are threats?"

"There are always those who are unhappy with peace. Whether they wish for more glory, or to settle old grudges, it amounts to the same." Torfelt shrugged, though his eyes were steady. His attention shifted to the nearest wall. "We have tried to prepare for any occasion."

Matt could see the shadows of some soldiers crouched along the battlements. By the outline of their weapons, he guessed members of Eagle Company were on guard duty for the night. He hoped they would get at least some of the food, eventually. "I see. Thank you."

Torfelt nodded, but before he could say anything more, Lucy stepped out of the crowd.

She was wearing a white version of her military uniform with golden stitching, and her sword was at her side. A blue ribbon had been tied around her hair, and it fluttered as she crossed the courtyard to greet them. Matt smiled at her and took her hand to bow over it. "My Lady."

"King Matthew." She ran her eyes over the others and nodded in approval. Her gaze returned to him a moment later, a spark of mischief glowed in her eyes. "No weapon for you tonight? I'd heard that you were reluctant to go anywhere without your mace these days."

Matt shrugged. "I suppose you've done a good job putting me at ease. You don't think we're at risk here, do you?"

She leaned forward. "I have heard that the desserts are to die for, but aside from that…"

He rolled his eyes at the joke, and the others gave her a polite chuckle. Torfelt sighed, the sound part exasperation and part fondness. She grinned a little and gestured for them to proceed into the courtyard. "Well, let us welcome you to our home properly this time. Eat, talk, and dance if you're brave enough—for tonight, we drink to peace!"

The Knights in the courtyard raised their cups and echoed her words, a ringing shout that filled the night. "To peace!"

What followed was something of an avalanche of conversations, small talk, and probing questions as the Knights approached him. They drifted towards him, singly and in groups, as if to prove their bravery by confronting a dangerous creature. Matt was as courteous to all of them as he was to the nobles back home in the Kingdom. The last thing he wanted to do was leave them with the impression of a bloodthirsty warlord.

Before long, however, his patience for the chatter grew thin. He began letting Jessica or Tanya take care of the social butterflies and tried to stand around giving stern looks to anyone who came too close. At least he wasn't suffering alone; the few glances he got of Lucy, she was surrounded by her own crowd of hangers on.

Eventually, as the evening wore on, a collection of the Knights gathered with instruments, and to Matt's surprise, they started up with an actual song. He'd somehow expected musicians to not have survived Lucy's revolution all that well, but apparently enough of them had gathered here to begin their own little band.

Matt watched them for a while, trying to compare it to the music he remembered from Earth. It seemed classical in a way, but that might have been just the choice of instruments. Maybe something closer to more modern stuff? The beat was certainly faster and less stately than he expected. Then again, he hadn't really listened to music all that much at home, and there certainly hadn't been time for it at Redspire.

As he watched and listened, some of the Knights started to pair off and dance. They moved quickly as they twirled around the courtyard, their steps practiced and energetic. To his utter shock, it was Jessica who laughed and pulled Jordan into it. They seemed to master the steps soon enough, and though Tanya and Miguel weren't joining them, he could tell the Maiden of Art was watching with a little bit of envy. Maybe they hadn't recovered enough from their wounds to make the attempt.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Alicia politely refused the offer from one enterprising Knight, and Riley stammered out a flimsy excuse to another. The Maiden of Books seemed to try to hide behind her friend whenever a Knight looked in her direction after that, though she often peeked out at Jordan and Jessica as they whirled around the middle of the courtyard.

Matt chuckled to himself as Tiridine dragged Rethferd towards the dance floor, the two Orcs sticking out like a sore thumb amid the shorter Knights. He shook his head and took another sip of the drink in his hand.

"Enjoying everything?"

Lucy's voice nearly made him jump, but Matt managed to not spill his drink on himself before he turned. "Mostly. I think I've met more ministers and committee members than I expected when I first came here."

She nodded. "It's part of the whole politics here. Everyone wants a fancy job title, with dreams of being our new governing class. We have almost as many mayors and officials as we have soldiers. I guess I'm still trying to figure out exactly how much of a government we need here. We're starting from scratch, so I'm sure I might make a mistake in one direction or another."

Matt grinned. He raised his drink to her. "Still, you are making the attempt. For that, I wish you good Fortune."

Lucy stepped over beside him, watching the dancers twirl. She toyed with her own cup as Jessica spun by with Jordan. "Thank you. It does mean a lot."

They watched in comfortable silence for a moment. The night was a warm one, still in the depths of summer, and above the firelight of the torches, the stars glimmered in a cloudless sky. Between the music, the festive air, and the food, it just felt… calm in a way that Matt hadn't known for a while. How long had it been since he'd not been responsible for everything that was happening?

Still, the silence was beginning to stretch a little too long. Just as Matt felt the need to break the quiet, Lucy beat him to the punch. "So. I have a question for you, King Matthew."

The tone of her voice put him instantly on guard. He took a sip before he answered. "Ask away. I can't guarantee I'll answer, but…"

"Well, at least do your best." She grinned at him, and he surprised himself by sticking out a tongue at her. Lucy laughed and then leaned in close. "You aren't actually a big fan of parties, are you?"

Matt blinked. He looked back at the dancers and sighed. "No. Not really."

Lucy nudged him gently. "What happened? Too many assassination attempts?"

He chuckled. "A little." Then he shook his head. "My enemies do seem to have a habit of attacking me just when my guard is down. They also love to catch me right when I'm about to relax. It's given me just a small amount of paranoia." Matt held up his free hand, with the index and thumb nearly touching.

She laughed. "I guess I can sympathize." Then she paused. "Why did you come, then? You could always have begged off. Or gone back to Bridgeton, I suppose. The army you've summoned will have to march through there anyway, and the healers say that Gorfeld can be moved."

Matt felt a moment of surprise that she'd learned the steward's name. He shook his head. "I think that would have been the wrong decision. It's always a good idea to meet the people you'll be working with. I tried to meet with the nobility back home, and the people here are going to be similar in authority, right?"

Lucy made a face. "They'd be pretty offended if they heard that."

"It doesn't make it any less true." He shook his head. "In any case, you invited me. It would have been rude to refuse."

She studied him a moment. Then she grinned. "Is that so?"

Matt raised an eyebrow. "It's how I was raised, at least. Turning down a polite invitation isn't something you do."

"Hmm." A calculated look of mischief had entered her eyes. She set down her cup. "And what is your position on dancing, King Matthew?"

He felt a sudden moment of dread, leavened with a hint of anticipation. "I'm… not a fan. I could never figure out the footwork."

Lucy rolled her eyes. "Really? I've seen you spar. You move pretty well out there."

"That's cause somebody's trying to break my head open. It's motivating." He held up a defensive hand. "Also, I'll remind you that I chose a big heavy mace to swing around. It's not exactly a fighting style noted for its grace."

Her grin just got bigger. "Well, at least you wouldn't step on any toes, right? How bad can you possibly be?"

Matt gave her a level look. "About as bad as you can get, honestly. It's not a pretty sight."

Lucy shrugged. "We've both seen plenty of ugly times, haven't we?" She reached out and gently stole the cup from him, a smile tugging at her lips as she set it aside. "I'm sure we'll get through this one fine."

He sucked in a deep breath and braced himself. "All right. I guess you've already shown you're brave enough." Matt glanced around and found half the courtyard peeking at him while trying not to be noticed. It was hard not to picture himself falling on his face in front of them.

When he looked back at Lucy, she was waiting expectantly. "What? Are we doing this?"

She gave him a patient look. "Sure—but sometimes a lady likes to be asked."

Matt started chuckling despite himself. Bowing deeply, he spoke in a drawl he usually avoided. "My Lady Lucy Adams, may I have this dance?"

"Why good sir, I believe you may." Lucy put her hand in his, and he straightened up to grin at her. She had to have thickened up her own accent on purpose.

They turned towards the dancers, waiting for a space to arrive. It did a moment later, and Matt turned to Lucy and took her left hand in his right. His left slipped around her waist, while her right landed on his shoulder. Then, with a grin that he tried to use to cover a grimace, he launched them right into the pattern of dancers.

For the first few moments, his feet seemed to refuse to move to the rhythm set up by the musicians. They moved along with the dancers in a halting series of false starts, one of which was bad enough that Lucy took her right hand off his shoulder to giggle into it. His face felt like it was on fire, but Matt persevered anyway, trying to convince his stomping feet to manage the steps. It was a minor miracle that he managed not to smash her toes flat.

Eventually, though, he started to find the pattern. The scowl on his face lightened a little as he managed to step his way through the next sequence without tripping her or falling over himself. He desperately held on to that pattern, moving through each twist, lunge, and spin with single-minded focus.

Lucy was still smiling up at him as they finally completed a full turn of the circle, but she didn't let go. Instead, they started another revolution around the courtyard, with Matt gritting his teeth and trying his best to stay moving in time. He made as if to end it early, and she gave him a look that was part challenge and part question.

There was only one way he was going to answer that kind of look. Buckling down, he focused on getting through each step of the dance. The more he focused, the harder it seemed to get, and the more Lucy looked like she was on the verge of breaking down into laughter again. He was starting to feel ridiculous when the music abruptly paused and changed to a slower song, one that had the couples begin a more sedate pace.

Matt heaved a sigh of relief, even as Lucy started giggling to herself. He gave her an exasperated look. "I told you I wasn't any good at it, okay? No need to rub it in."

Lucy recovered enough to shake her head. "Sorry, sorry. It's just… it was like you were on a battlefield. And that frown…" She broke down chuckling a bit and had to catch her breath. "I'm pretty sure the musicians changed songs because they were worried about you going after them. You might need to work on that in the future."

He tried to glare at her, but the sheer ridiculousness of the situation finally got to him. Matt shook his head and tried not to laugh. "There's not a lot of partners out there for me, you know. To practice with, I mean." She quieted down slightly, and he sighed. "Still, I guess it was nice to try. It's been a while since I did anything like that."

"I bet." She leaned a little closer to him, and suddenly it was like every part of him was hyper-alert. "You know, there's nothing wrong with…"

Lucy trailed off. Her nose wrinkled. "Hey, why do you smell like ashes?"

Matt blinked. It had seemed like such a good idea. "Did you just smell me?"

She gave him a half-offended, half-embarrassed glare. "You're the one who smells like a firepit. What's the deal, honey?"

He grinned down at her. "I guess I just didn't expect anyone to run around sniffing people at the fancy party. Little did I know…"

Lucy muttered something under her breath. "Fine, fine, keep your secrets." She shook her head. "Don't think I won't find out about it, though."

"I look forward to you trying." Matt abruptly stopped moving. The musicians had allowed their music to trail off; there was a group of Knights pushing their way to the front of the spectators nearest them. He instantly focused on them. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw some of his lifeguards starting to converge on them, but he didn't know if they would reach the group in time. "Problems."

Lucy blinked up at him. Then she turned to look in the same direction as him and grimaced. "Rondus. He's a mayor from one of the eastern villages."

Matt's eyes narrowed at the way she'd said the name. "A noble sympathizer?"

"The opposite, actually." She glanced up at him. "I can make him back down."

He shook his head. A part of him had been dedicated to playing nice here, but the look on Rondus' face, the way he was pushing himself forward…

It felt familiar, like watching Tek smirk at him, or the usurpers back in Heartlight. There were problems that could be dealt with by using a smile and soft words. Others, however…

As he'd read so often, it was better to be feared if you couldn't be loved.

Rondus broke through the last of the spectators and strode over to confront them. Matt turned and slipped a hand into the pocket of his pants, quietly gesturing for the nearest lifeguards to stand clear. The Knight had a sword, but he hadn't drawn it yet, and his companions weren't coming forward with him. It was going to be a confrontation, not an assassination. At least, not yet.

Lucy turned to face the man, her own hand resting on her sword hilt. "Rondus. This is not the time—"

"It is, my lady." Rondus hadn't even looked at her. Instead, his angry gaze was fixed on Matt. "This… tyrant has been making a mockery of our Revolution. He brings his enemies here for our soldiers to fight. Then he demands the use of our castle to hide in while the people of our lands bow and scrape before him. And now, just now, with his disgraceful display! He can't even be bothered to treat you, or our customs, with the appropriate respect."

Her voice turned cold. "You misunderstand the situation, Rondus. Don't turn your mistake into something worse."

Rondus shook his head like a bull. "No, my lady. He is nothing more than another usurper, a would-be despot! Even if you can't see it, I can." Then his lips curled in a smile. "And like all such animals, I know how to stop you."

Matt studied the man, keeping his hand buried in his pocket. He looked like a soldier of some kind, not a farmer, which meant he probably had some idea of what he was doing. At the same time, he didn't have the fitness of a man who had fought for his life over the past few years. Muscle had given way to paunch, and his thick arms were nothing next to Balred, Tiridine, or Rethferd. This problem was solvable. "Is that so, Lord Rondus?"

The Knight leaned forward. "I am no lord, but I can demand satisfaction from you all the same. King Matthew, Tyrant of Iron, I challenge you to a duel!"

Lucy opened her mouth, but Matt spoke before she could. "I accept." He saw her twitch in irritation, but he just shrugged at her. When he looked back at Rondus, he saw a flicker of surprise and worry on the man's face. Had he been expecting Matt to back down? Maybe they hadn't heard as much about him as he'd assumed. "So, what sort of challenge will it be? A fight, or something more… gentle?"

Rondus' expression grew hard again. "A fight, if your noble blood can handle it." He drew his sword with a flourish. It was a simple blade of steel, long enough to be familiar. "Someone fetch this cur a blade. Given how he staggered about the floor, this should not take long."

Matt grinned. "No need." He focused, using one of the 'tricks' that Snolt had taught him. His hand, still in his pocket, closed around a handful of ash.

In a single smooth motion, he drew his hand out of his pocket and tossed the ash into the air. It formed a small cloud; he saw Rondus' eyes widen. The Knight flinched back as if suspecting treachery, but Matt simply reached forward through the cloud.

His hand closed around something very familiar. He pulled back, and the dark, shining length of his mace appeared, even as the rest of the ash filtered down towards the ground.

It wasn't the flashiest spell Matt had ever used, but Rondus looked stricken for a moment. If his power was anything like Snolt's, he probably could never have managed a spell like that one, and certainly not that quickly or casually. Matt's Source, however, was still flaring in time with his heartbeat; he smelt hellfire on his own breath. With a flourish of his own, he turned to face Rondus directly. "Do we need to clear a circle? Or shall we just start here?"

Rondus stared at him, and then his expression grew hard. His eyes narrowed. "Your magics do not scare me, tyrant. I am a man of the Revolution, and we don't need to fight with such things. Our hearts are purified in the strength of our righteous cause!"

"A pure heart bleeds the same as any other, Rondus." Matt let his voice go deep and cold. "You're outmatched here. There is no shame in recognizing it. I see no reason to kill you."

The Knight shook his head stubbornly. "I cannot say the same." His lips twitched in a rictus of a snarl. "Come on, then."

Matt nodded. He glanced to either side and saw that a gap had opened up. Lucy had backed away slightly, though her face was tight with frustration. It likely did not look good for the situation to have been pulled from her control so quickly. In other circumstances, he might have let her handle it.

Right now, however, it was time for the Pridelands to meet him. Who he always was, and who he'd always needed to be.

He looked back at Rondus and smiled. "All right, then. Last chance."

The Knight answered by growling and raising his sword, obviously aiming to strike at Matt from above. Matt got both his hands on his mace and moved forward, ready to intercept the attack. Rondus moved well; he obviously had experienced a fight or two in his time. His companions looked confident, even eager, which meant they believed he wasn't just some fop that was getting too big for his britches.

All of which meant that Matt needed to end this quickly.

He swung at Rondus' torso, putting his weight into the strike. The Knight brought his sword down to block, moving with the smooth surety of a veteran. His sword was not some fragile, slender thing; it had been built of strong steel, and would take the impact from the mace's haft easily. Rondus was probably hoping that he could stop Matt's attack cold—something extremely likely with a Knight's superior physical abilities—and then strike his opponent down afterwards.

Unfortunately for him, Matt finished the Little Tinderbox spell the moment before his mace made contact, and magic flooded into the weapon. The dark metal went from a cold, grim black to shining and white hot in an instant. Matt had to force himself not to shut his eyes against the brilliant light, and the heat that flared to life seemed to nearly sear his own fingers.

Rondus flinched, but not fast enough to stop the block. Matt's mace made contact, and Rondus' sword shattered. Burning metal fragments spattered in all directions, and Matt winced as one cherry-red piece nearly caught him in the face.

He extinguished the spell just before the mace made contact with the still-charging Knight. The mace went from a burning sliver of light to a rapidly cooling piece of metal, one that struck Rondus in the chest. Matt saw the Knight's eyes go wide from shock; the sound of snapping bones and the smell of burning flesh filled the courtyard.

Rondus went over backwards, hitting the ground before the first gasps and screams had even started. Matt took another step, shaking out his still-warm fingers for a moment, before looking down at the Knight. His opponent's face had gone pale, and blood leaked from the corner of his mouth as he struggled to breathe.

Matt glanced at Rondus' companions, who both stepped back in fear. He ignored them as he went to one knee beside the injured Knight, keeping his voice low. "So. Is honor satisfied?"

The Knight stared up at him, his eyes wide with hate and shock. His only response was a weak cough. Matt nodded and looked at Lucy. "My Lady. He is your subject, not mine."

Lucy looked down at Rondus. "He is not my subject. I am only among equals here." Then she shook her head. "Still, I would ask you to spare him. Despite this misjudgment, he has served the Revolution well."

Matt looked back down at Rondus. It rankled to let the man live—a courtesy he was sure the Knight wouldn't have extended to him if the positions were reversed—especially since he was likely to cause trouble later. "A wise man once said that it was better to destroy an enemy rather than merely hurt them, to keep them from taking revenge later."

He saw Rondus' eyes widen in sudden panic and smiled. "Still, we are not truly enemies. Not this day." Matt stood and nodded to Lucy. "He is yours to deal with, my lady. Hopefully, we'll have no more disruptions of our newly found peace."

She raised an eyebrow at him, but motioned for Rondus' companions to come and collect their fallen friend. Rondus was still wheezing and coughing as they dragged him away, but it did seem like the man would live. He just hoped they were smart enough to set him up in his own bed, rather than anywhere near Gorfeld.

Lucy stepped up beside him, and he glanced down at her. She had picked up a fragment of Rondus' sword. The metal had cooled and congealed; one of the edges looked like it had been partly melted down before the heat had dissipated.

She rubbed a finger on that edge and then glanced at him. "So. You mentioned new magic, but I didn't expect something like that."

"That's kind of the point." Matt gave her a crooked grin. Then he looked around at the rest of the Knights, many of whom were looking at him out of the corner of their eyes as if watching a dangerous beast. He sighed. "Sorry. I kind of ruined the party."

Lucy tossed the fragment away, letting the metal ring off the stones in the courtyard. "At least it's handled. Now, does anyone else want to challenge someone?"

She looked around at the gathered Knights, her hand placed without much casualness on her sword's hilt. The other guests either paled at the indirect threat, or simply shrugged it aside to return to their conversations. Satisfied, Lucy nodded and gave the musicians a look. They set themselves back into motion with a start.

As music filled the courtyard yet again, Lucy turned back to him. Her eyes were sharp as she looked him up and down. Then she grinned. "Well, shall we try that dance again?"