The Villain Can't Lose

I turned around, the sound of the king's clapping filled the air, and his slow approach towards us was marked by the four knights following him closely. The throne room was grand and imposing, with high ceilings and intricately designed tapestries hanging from the walls. The smell of incense hung in the air, mixing with the scent of polished wood and leather from the furniture.

Despite his kind appearance, the king looked weak and feeble, almost as if he didn't want to be here. His voice sounded tired as he congratulated me on my victory, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction wash over me.

"Great job!" he said, his words a little too formal.

The battle had been long and gruelling, but I had finally reached my goal. I stood there, wiping the sweat off my forehead, trying to hide any sign of nervousness that I felt inside. Ewen had a shocked expression on his face, knowing that this was a crucial moment, and any misstep could have dire consequences.

I took a deep breath and turned back to face the king, who stood towering in front of me. He was a tall man, with broad shoulders and a regal bearing. His face was stern and serious, and his eyes seemed to bore into my soul, searching for any sign of weakness.

The king wore a simple, yet elegant robe of deep red, embroidered with gold thread. His crown, adorned with precious stones, glinted in the light of the torches that lined the walls of the throne room. The room was filled with the hushed whispers of the courtiers, who were watching us with great interest.

Despite the imposing presence of the king, I refused to let my nerves get the best of me. I stood tall, with my head held high, and met his gaze with unwavering confidence. This was my chance to prove myself, to show that I was worthy of his trust and respect.

"I have a bone to pick with Ewen, Your Majesty," I said, my voice steady and clear, trying to sound as natural as possible. "He disrespected my name and my family's honour, and I cannot let it go unpunished."

The king listened intently, his eyes never leaving mine. As I finished my statement, I could see a glimmer of approval in his eyes, and I knew that I had succeeded.

"Pride is a double-edged sword, my young friend," he replied with a low tone. "It is important to have pride in oneself and one's kingdom, but it is equally important to remain humble and open-minded in order to continue growing and progressing."

His words felt hypocritical to me, knowing that he had given away the kingdom to his own immature son and my so-called father, Hector. But I kept my emotions in check and nodded respectfully.

"I understand, Your Majesty," I said, my voice low and respectful. "I will keep that in mind."

I stood there, my hand still gripping the hilt of the sword tightly. It was time to make my move, to show the king that I was not to be underestimated. With a deep breath, I let go of the sword and stared deep into the king's eyes, without saying a word. A mix of determination, anger and a sense of purpose swirled inside me. I had been planning this moment for a long time, strategizing and plotting my moves carefully. And now, as I stood before the king, I knew that the time had come to make my move.

I let go of the sword and took a step closer to the king, my eyes locked onto his. As I approached him, I took a deep breath and let the scents of the palace fill my nostrils. The sweet aroma of flowers mixed with the rich scent of the wooden floors beneath my feet. I could feel the softness of the carpet underfoot, the texture almost ticklish. I felt a sense of calm wash over me as I stood in the grand hall, surrounded by luxury and power. This was my moment, and I was ready to seize it. With a steady gaze and a determined heart, I prepared to take the next step in my quest for power and domination.

As King pointed towards the small house of mirrors on his left, I followed his gaze and saw a man stuck inside.

The sight surprised and intrigued me. "Yes, I did that," I mumbled to myself, admiring my handiwork. But what really caught me off guard was what King said next. "Rowen, my boy, your mirror technique is truly remarkable.

You are more talented than your father Hector ever was," King complimented me with genuine kindness in his words.

I stood there, shocked and speechless, unable to believe what I was hearing. King was known for his high standards and strict criteria, and to hear such praise from him was truly unexpected.

A warmth spread through my chest as I realized the depth of King's kindness towards me. Despite being the ruler of the kingdom, he had taken a liking to my technique.

I inherited it from the duke, and it was something that came from the royal family themselves.

However, I was sure that no one else had been able to master it besides me and my grandfather, who was second in line for the throne - the late king's brother.

I saw how the king glanced at Ewen lying on the ground and noticed a small smirk appear on his face. "I hope you understand that my son's birthday was disturbed by this commotion, and I hope you will apologize for your actions," the king spoke to Ewen.

I turned back to see how Ewen was doing, and this time, instead of the crazed maniac, a small puppy's face was left begging for forgiveness. "Pathetic," I whispered, my lips curling in disgust. This was the man who had so proudly challenged me and the man who had disrespected me.

"Ye-yes, your majesty," Ewen stuttered as he stood up and began running towards the stairs I came from.

I watched as Ewen disappeared into the distance, slipping away from my grasp once again. I clenched my fists, feeling frustration boiling inside me like a cauldron. "Why didn't I finish him?" The thought of letting him live only added insult to injury.

All I wanted was to finish what I started, to prove to myself and the world that I was the enemy they could never defeat. As the minutes turned into hours, and the king turned back to me, he said, "Today's festivities are over for you. Go home, child, and wait for my letter to arrive."

I bowed slightly and turned to leave, feeling a sense of both disappointment and triumph. King had praised my technique, but Ewen had slipped away. I knew that the battle between us was far from over, and I was determined to come out on top.