[New Quest: Survive Public Rivalry.]
[Reward: +3 Reputation, Affection Points with ???
Failure: Broken pride. Possibly broken bones.]
The words floated in front of me like glowing runes of doom.
Of course the system would throw a quest now. Not when I was safe, not when I was hiding in a corner, but right here—front and center—while an entire kingdom stared at me.
I swallowed hard, my mouth drier than the desert.
Liora—the spear prodigy, daughter of the general, breaker of egos—stood like a storm given human shape. She didn't blink, didn't flinch. Her eyes raked over me as though stripping flesh from bone, dissecting every piece of who I was, deciding whether my soul was worth crushing beneath her heel.
The crowd buzzed like a hive. Murmurs surged in ripples.
"Will he fight her?"
"He can't refuse, not after what the princess just did—"
"She'll slaughter him in front of everyone!"
Beside me, the princess shifted her weight, claiming the silence like it belonged to her. Her hand clutched more firmly around my arm, nails grazing through the fabric with a faint, deliberate scratch. It wasn't the affectionate grip of a lover anymore—it was possession, plain and unflinching. A signal for everyone watching: Mine.
The perfumed air dimmed beneath the sharp sweetness of her scent. When she leaned in, lips hovering near my ear, her whisper wrapped around me like silk threaded with barbs.
"You look pale, Carl," she murmured, her voice a blade dipped in honey. "Don't tell me you're afraid? It wouldn't do for my chosen man to tremble in public…"
I stiffened. Afraid? Absolutely. Terrified? Beyond words. My heart thundered like a war drum in a cage too small for it. But the way her tone dripped with amusement—layered with something warmer, something dangerously close to hunger—made my spine straighten.
I didn't answer. Couldn't. My brain was running on lag, caught between survival instincts and the burn of her claim.
Then Liora closed the distance. The throneroom's tension condensed with her every step until she stopped a few paces away. She planted her spear into the marble with a sharp crack that silenced even the boldest whisper. Her smirk was sharpened steel—provocation embodied.
"So," she said, her voice carrying clear over the courtyard. "You're the man everyone is so obsessed with. The one Her Highness clings to like a prize. The one who supposedly bested Kaela."
Gasps rippled. All eyes flicked toward Kaela, who stood off to the side with arms crossed. She raised a single brow, amusement flickering in her expression like someone watching a fire they didn't care to put out.
Liora tilted her head, smirk deepening. "I don't buy it."
And there it was. The spark that set tinder ablaze.
Shouts erupted, loud and hot:
"Challenge him!"
"Make him prove it!"
"This will be good!"
The system chimed in again, its timing cruelly perfect:
> [Side Quest Update: Survive Public Rivalry.]
Condition: Accept or refuse the duel.
Warning: Refusal will trigger massive Reputation Loss.
My stomach dropped. Massive reputation loss? The system wasn't even pretending to give me a coward's exit.
Liora's gaze fixed on me, razor-sharp. "What do you say, Carl? Will you fight me? Or will you keep hiding under the princess's skirts?"
Gasps echoed like cannon fire. Laughter followed—hushed, biting, eager. Nobles thrived on scandal, and this one was ripe enough to feast on for months.
The princess's nails dug deeper into my arm, almost possessive enough to draw blood. She didn't scold Liora, didn't even frown. Instead, her lips curved into a smile that sent a shiver through me—slow, deliberate, and dangerous.
She leaned closer, her whisper brushing fire along my ear:
"Careful, Liora. He may look soft, but he belongs to me. And I don't share my toys."
Her words were velvet laced with flame. Her hand slid further down my arm, the touch both protective and taunting, enough to scatter my thoughts into incoherent sparks.
Liora didn't flinch. Her smirk widened, the tip of her spear tilting ever so slightly in challenge. "Then perhaps I'll just take him from you."
The system delivered its final decree:
> [Quest Condition Finalized: Duel with Liora, Spear Prodigy.]
Reward: ???
Failure: Public humiliation. Broken pride. Possibly broken bones.
The crowd erupted. Nobles leaned forward in their seats, fans fluttering like eager wings. Soldiers grinned, eyes gleaming as if bloodshed was the evening's entertainment. The whole courtyard vibrated with anticipation, their hunger for spectacle pressing down like a weight.
And me?
I wanted to vanish. To erase the entire moment, to rewrite my life with a quill of denial. But the glowing quest box lingered, stubborn and merciless.
---
Every part of me screamed retreat. Logic painted vivid pictures of my broken body sprawled across the marble. My pride whispered that I'd already lost just by standing frozen, that silence was its own surrender.
But then—I felt her.
The princess's hand still anchored me. Not gentle, not soft, but firm with expectation. She hadn't chosen me to falter. Her whisper replayed in my mind: Mine.
And Liora's eyes never left me. Piercing, unrelenting, as though she saw the boy who stumbled into a throne room he didn't belong in and wanted to tear him down to prove the world right.
The two of them—fire and spear, claim and challenge—pulled at me from opposite sides. And the crowd's roar filled the spaces between, their hunger making me their unwilling champion or their destined fool.
A duel.
Against the prodigy who could split boulders with her strikes.
No one believed I could win.
Neither did I.
But refusing wasn't just cowardice. It was annihilation of reputation, a permanent scar I'd never wash off in this court where pride was currency.
The system hadn't given me an exit.
And the princess—Her Highness—hadn't chosen a coward.
---
My mouth was still dry, but my jaw clenched until words forced their way out. My voice shook—just slightly—but it carried.
"If it's a duel you want…" I said, my throat tight, "then I won't run."
Gasps erupted again, louder than before. Shock, excitement, cruel delight—it all blended into a storm.
Liora's eyes gleamed with approval. She spun her spear once, the metal whistling like a promise. "Good. Let's see if you're worth the princess's claim."
The princess's nails finally eased from my arm, but her smile didn't fade. It deepened, dangerous and proud.
I didn't dare look at her. If I did, I'd see expectation in her eyes, and that would unravel me.
Instead, I fixed my gaze on Liora, on the storm about to break.
The system's quest box pulsed brighter. The duel was sealed.
And though every instinct begged me to run, I took a step forward—because fear wasn't an excuse anymore.