Under the Oak Tree Novel - Chapter 217
Chapter 217: Side Story Chapter 23
“Finally,” Hebaron muttered. “I can’t wait to eat and drink as much as I want.”
The burly knight’s voice was brimming with anticipation as he walked his mount up to Riftan’s.
As they entered the castle, Riftan took in a sharp breath. It had been ten years since he had last been here. Old memories stirred awake at every familiar sight. The shrubs and colorful flowers lining the paved path caught his eye as he passed. Finally, the main castle came into view.
“I knew about the duke’s reputation,” said Ursuline, “but I must say, I am impressed.”
The knight was a scion of a prominent noble house, yet his voice was filled with awe as he looked up at the magnificent structure.
After dismounting and entrusting the reins to the servants, the knights climbed the marble steps in single file. They passed through arched doors that towered twenty kevettes (approximately 6 meters) high and found themselves in a hall glowing golden in the light of thousands of candles.
The expansive space seemed to contain every luxury one could possibly imagine. A chandelier hung from the domed ceiling, illuminating everything below, and each window was fitted with glass. Riftan was scrutinizing the gilded suits of armor lining the plaster-white walls with barely concealed disgust when a haughty voice rang out.
“I have heard the victorious news. You have done well.”
The duke sauntered down the stairs escorted by his personal guards.
…..
“The royal knights arrived last night. I have prepared rooms for you as well, so do make yourselves comfortable.”
Triton stepped forward. “We are grateful for your hospitality, Your Grace.”
The Duke of Croyso silently appraised the commander before nodding to the maidservants waiting in the wings.
“Show our guests to their rooms.”
As soon as the order was issued, dozens of servants scurried down the stairs. The knights followed them across the hall while a group of giggling noblewomen observed them from the second-floor landing.
Riftan wondered if they were the wives of the knights attending the banquet. Feeling like a spectacle, he scowled in irritation. It was at that moment that his gaze snagged on the woman who stood at the end of the hallway.
Riftan froze. Although the shadows she was hiding in made it impossible to distinguish her face, he could tell that her hair was as dark as red wine. He gulped through his constricted throat. When he unwittingly took a step toward her, the woman grew flustered and ducked behind a pillar.
“Sir Riftan? Is something the matter?”
Gabel Lachzion was looking at Riftan with a baffled expression. Riftan managed to regain his composure and turned around.
“No, it’s nothing.”
There was no telling if the woman was her or not. Regardless of the answer, it was none of his concern. He strode away while berating himself for dwelling on a decade-old memory. Even when he was back in his room, however, his anxiety did not go away.
He raked back his hair and flung open the window. Dusk was falling on the expansive gardens he often used to cut through hauling carts of horse dung or firewood. It suddenly occurred to him how much his life had changed. Escaping this place on that fateful day, he had never imagined he would return as a knight.
Lost in thought, he was vacantly staring out the window when the commander’s voice came through the door.
“May I come in?”
He slowly opened it to find Triton standing in immaculate, banquet-ready attire.
The commander swept his eyes over Riftan and sighed. “I knew I’d find you like this. Look at the state of you.”
Riftan squinted down at his dark navy tunic, black trousers, and low cowhide boots. These were the sturdiest and cleanest pieces in his possession. When he cocked a brow as if to say he did not know what the problem was, his superior shook his head in dismay.
“Were you planning on attending dressed like that?”
Riftan leaned against the doorpost and said wearily, “I’m not attending. You know how much I hate such gatherings.”
“Calypse, this is a victory banquet. People can say whatever they please, but that does not change the fact that you’re the man who bested Ludgal, the leader of the raiders.”
“I doubt the person holding the banquet shares your view.”
Triton’s expression grew stern at his cynical reply. “As I’ve told you countless times, I intend to have you succeed me as commander of the Remdragon Knights. Not only is that my personal wish, but also that of everyone in the order. For the transition to go smoothly, we’ll have to earn you the nobles’ approval. I’m afraid I can’t let you do as you please this time.”
“I’m not suited for the role. You should pick someone with the appropriate lineage—”
“Are you saying you will not abide by our order’s rules?” Triton said stonily.
It was the unwritten law of the Remdragon Knights that the hierarchy within the order was determined by skill. Even if he refused the position, the others would not likely accept his decision.
Riftan sighed and moved aside to let the man in. “What do you want me to do?”
“First, we’ll have to get you a better outfit.”
With a grin, Triton motioned to the squire waiting in the corridor. Riftan groaned when the lad entered the room hauling a mountain of clothes.
The commander thumped his large hand on Riftan’s shoulder and let out a hearty laugh. “You may be hopelessly inhospitable, but thank God for that striking face. We’ll have to use every weapon in our arsenal to win this game.”
“Are you telling me to flaunt my face?”
Triton snorted at Riftan’s grimace and dangled an extravagant outfit in front of him. “Twisting everything to the negative is a bad habit of yours. There’s no shame in putting your best foot forward for the ladies.”
“You can leave that to Nirtha! I’m sure he’d be more than happy to oblige.”
Triton heaved a sigh. “I just can’t seem to rein that boy in. A few days ago, he flirted with a noblewoman in my presence. The lady’s betrothed understandably flew into a rage, and the whole thing nearly led to an ugly duel. I would ban him from stepping foot in that banquet hall if I could.”
“Then, what about Ricay—”
“Calypse,” the commander intoned. “Don’t make me repeat myself. I will not take no for an answer today. You contributed the most to defending the border. It’s only right that the eastern nobles pay respect to you. I intend to use this banquet to brand your name in the minds of these old-fashioned aristocrats.”
Triton looked grim as he shoved a pair of glossy silk socks into Riftan’s hands.
“So stop complaining, and do as I say.”
In the end, Riftan conceded defeat. He pulled on the calf-length socks and an intricately embroidered formal ensemble. As if that were not enough, the commander handed him a feathered hat.
Riftan scowled in revulsion. “I’d rather hang myself than put that on my head!”
The commander resignedly placed the hat on the bed. Sighing, Riftan eyed his reflection in the mirror. He felt like a court jester. By contrast, Triton seemed pleased with what he saw. The man kept nodding with a satisfied smile.
“You look like a prince. Now, all that’s left is to curb that foul mouth of yours.”
“I’ll refrain from opening it as much as possible,” Riftan said curtly.
He accepted a coat from the squire and draped it over his shoulders. Outside, darkness had already settled over the garden. His eyes darted around as he followed the commander to the banquet hall. Candles illuminated every nook and cranny of the castle, and he wondered how many they burned through in a single night.
As he was mulling over this banal question, the commander tapped his shoulder. “I will introduce you to the nobles of influence. Remember, be on your best behavior.”
“I will try,” Riftan said, sighing.
All eyes flew to him as soon as he stepped into the hall. He fought to suppress a scowl. The hundreds of nobles gathered in the palatial room stared as though he were a spectacle to behold.
The commander began introductions one by one. Did the man intend for him to greet all of these people individually? Sickened by the thought, Riftan was desperately searching for an escape when he spotted the Duke of Croyso at the center of the hall. Or, rather, the woman in the dark green dress standing next to him.
Riftan felt as though he had been struck in the head. Although it had occurred to him that he might see her here, he had resolved to not let it affect him. In spite of this, his face blanched the moment he laid eyes on the red-headed young woman.
He took in every inch of her. Though she was still small in stature, with her head barely reaching his chest, she was much grown from the little girl who had come up to his waist. For some reason, his mouth felt parched. He tugged at his suddenly tight collar.
“Best if we formally made your introduction to the duke as well.”
Noticing Riftan’s tension, Triton shot him a warning look. Riftan barely managed a nod. The commander then marched him to the center of the hall.
“We are humbled and grateful for this splendid event in our honor, Your Grace.”
“Ah, Lord Triton. It is the least I can do for the heroes who protected this land.”
The duke moved with practiced grace to address them, haughtily raising his chin. Riftan held his breath as he watched the girl slowly turn to face him.
