“I wanna be with you / Always from a step behind you / Don’t forget there’s a person who will protect you” -- VIXX; Love Letter

 

Stifling a yawn behind your sleeve, you fanned yourself slowly, squinting into the bright spring sunlight. Knights on horses meandered slowly around the training yard as flags were hung in place. It was the day of the annual tournament, something that your parents had always “encouraged” you to attend. Though the food was good, and it was nice to see your friends again, you had always found the actual sports fairly dull. A waste of an afternoon, if you were asked, spending time watching old men on horseback try to stab each other. You would much rather stay in your nice cool room and read the novel you’d secretly gotten your hands on.

 

Your mother’s firm finger in your side reminded you to sit up straight, which you did with a slight grumble of disapproval. Every year brought several middle-aged knights asking for your favor on the tournament field, and you had declined every year. It was always awkward saying no, and this year wasn’t looking any better. Sir Gregory was looking in your direction already. You awkwardly turned your head away. As you did so, you saw something unusual. A new competitor, from someplace further away; he had a coat of arms that you couldn’t recognize. Curiosity piqued, you watched as he led his horse into the tournament arena and bowed to the stands. Your mother nudged you, and you joined in clapping politely. When he removed his helmet, though, you felt your breath catch in your throat.

 

He was young, for one, which was unexpected for a knight. His silky hair caught the breeze effortlessly, and the smile he offered up was brilliant, albeit a little shy. He began introducing himself to the nobility around you, but you only caught his name (Ken) before you completely zoned out. It was so rare to see someone new in your kingdom, not to mention someone young and handsome. The number of people around your age was dismally few, and they were mostly women anyways. Sitting up straighter, you tucked a stray wisp of hair behind your ear. This tournament had suddenly become a lot more interesting.

 

“...lady? My lady?” Flushing, you realized that Ken had been trying to catch your attention for some time.

 

“Y-yes? What is it?” you returned quickly, pursing your lips as you felt the stares of the people around you.

 

Ken gave you a shining smile. “I hope it does not offend your lady if I ask for a small favor of yours that I might wear during the tourney.”

 

The flush on your face deepened as a tittering started up around you. Knights generally asked for favors from the ladies of the kingdom, but Ken was an outsider, someone you hadn’t met before today.

 

But it was also the chance to get to know someone new, and to have some change in the status quo of your otherwise dreadfully boring life. Taking a deep breath in, you unwound the ribbon holding your hair in place and stood up, holding it out to the knight below. Ken winked at you and tied it around his wrist, sauntering off towards the center of the field. The other knights were watching him as well, some in admiration, some in confusion, and some in envy. There were also eyes on you. As soon as you sat down, a hand dug into your shoulder.

 

“Oh my gosh. He’s so cute! I can’t believe he asked for a favor from you, lucky girl,” your best friend babbled excitedly into your ear. You gave her a shy smile, facing forwards again just as the trumpets blared. It was time for the start of the tournament.

 

The first few bouts were boring, the same old knights fighting the same old battles. Everyone clapped politely, of course, but there was an underlying current of tension that erupted only once Ken’s horse pranced into view. A chorus of whispers started up amongst the audience, particularly when Ken dismounted and took his helmet off, shaking out his hair in the sunlight. He bowed in your direction, your ribbon bright against the silver of his armor.

 

Your breath hitched as Ken remounted his horse and took up his position opposite his opponent, Sir Merrick. Though the lances had blunted tips, they could still inflict some amount of damage if they went in a dangerous direction. And Sir Merrick was a seasoned jouster, if nothing else.

 

The trumpets sounded again, and the horses took off at a mad gallop towards each other. You let out a shaky breath, unable to look away. There was a mighty smash of shields and lances, and once the dust cleared, Sir Merrick was on the ground, looking quite disgruntled. The crowd roared in approval, the nobles around you clapping in delight. Ken rode to the edge of the field and dismounted, bowing to the crowd. He was clearly basking in his victory and the spectators were loving it.

 

-----

 

The sun was beginning to set as you stepped carefully around the upturned soil, heading towards the castle. There was to be a great feast tonight to celebrate the ending of the tournament, and you were already imagining all of the incredible food that would be served there, your mouth watering. As you continued forward, an arm grasped your elbow and spun you around.

 

“Who-” you could barely get the words out of your mouth before you stopped. Ken was in front of you now, having changed out of his armor and into a fancily decorated tunic. He was holding your ribbon in his left hand.

 

“My lady, I believe this belongs to you,” he murmured, holding it out. You stared at it for a couple of seconds before deciding to do something bold.

 

Shaking your head, you stepped backwards. “It is yours to keep.” Ken’s eyebrows shot upwards in surprise, but he grinned and tucked it into his pocket.

 

“I will treasure it, then.” He gestured towards the castle. You started off in that direction, Ken following behind you; your heart was pounding in your chest. It was thrilling to be able to make a new friend, at least, and you had the distinct feeling that Ken might turn out to be someone even more precious to you than you could know. For now, it would be enough to feast and be merry, and enjoy the company of who would fight in your honor.