Relieved, Ritchie didn't bother grabbing his things. He bolted from school.
Isabella's house was close. He reached it in no time.
At the doorstep, Ritchie knew something was wrong. The door hung crooked, and the nearby window was shattered. He stepped inside, hearing soft sobs.
Following the sound past the kitchen, he found Isabella's siblings huddled by the bed, crying. Each child's face bore bruises.
The kids noticed him, their eyes filled with fear, telling him all he needed to know.
Glancing at the bed, he saw Isabella, pale and still, covered with a sheet. Blood seeped through where it draped over her knees.
When Isabella saw Ritchie, her face showed helpless confusion and deep shame. "Why… are you here?" she asked, her voice heavy with pain.
Ritchie didn't answer. He lifted the sheet, revealing her battered legs.
Fury surged in him, but he stayed rational. Saving her legs came first.
Like a gust of wind, he sprinted to the camp, bursting into the armory. "Miss Randy, please help. My friend's hurt… maybe because of me."
He took the blame since it was all he could do.
Randy, the quartermaster, eyed him, seeing his anxiety and barely veiled rage. Suddenly, her gaze flicked behind him. The icy captain stood at the door.
"You're here early. School's not out," the captain said, stepping in. "Knights don't meddle in civilian affairs. The law forbids it."
Ritchie's heart sank.
"But if a knight's involved, that's different." She turned to Randy. "Got time? Check it out."
He'd come alone but returned with two others: Randy and Rosa, the prank-loving knight.
Randy tended to Isabella while Rosa played with the kids, laughing as if she were the youngest of them all. Ritchie wondered who was more childish… her or the children?
"Ritchie, take the kids to eat," Randy said.
He remembered the food he'd left in the kitchen. At the mention of food, the kids cheered, abandoning Rosa to rush out.
Watching the four devour their meal like starving wolves, Ritchie's mind burned with one thought: how to deal with those thugs?
Even if not for Isabella, for his own sake, and to protect his parents from a similar fate, he needed to clean up this city.
The problem was finding the bastards. He couldn't just kill every shady-looking punk; he'd likely hit the wrong guy.
Before he could plan, Randy and Rosa emerged, their faces tinged with odd, knowing looks.
"Your friend's lucky. No broken bones, just a dislocated left kneecap. I've reset it. She needs rest," Randy said. "Kids, go take care of your sister."
Shooing the kids away, a flush crept across Randy's face. She hesitated, then spoke softly, her tone gentle. "I get it. Teenage boys can be impulsive. But knights and regular folks can't be together. Remember that."
Ritchie's face burned.
Randy regretted her words instantly. This was awkward and none of her business. Why meddle? "I've got things to do. I'm off." She fled like a gust of wind.
Rosa, however, stayed put, grinning mischievously as she sidled up to Ritchie. Her finger grazed her cheek, teasing, "Shame, shame, shame."
Ritchie's neck reddened. He turned away, ignoring the prankster.
But Rosa wasn't done. Leaning close, she whispered, "How's it feel, doing that with a classmate?"
"I didn't—" Ritchie cut off, desperate to avoid her trap. She'd mock him forever if he admitted it.
"Don't deny it. When Randy checked the girl, she found other injuries. Her pussy was swollen bad… clearly from some clueless guy." Rosa's eyes flicked to Ritchie's crotch, her signature impish smile spreading.
She trailed a slender finger along his bulge.
Ritchie, already pent-up, tented his pants after just two strokes.
"Need help?" Rosa circled her finger over the tip.
Ritchie nearly moaned. It felt too good.
Not that Rosa's touch was skilled. Compared to Isabella's tricks last night, it was amateur. But the thought of Rosa, a knight, touching him sent a thrill through him. The women of the knight order were untouchable goddesses in his mind, and now one was teasing his cock.
"Is this okay?" he blurted, hope surging.
Rosa blinked, her big, captivating eyes wide. His response caught her off guard. She'd only been joking, but she didn't mind the idea.
Why not try? She undid his belt, and his massive cock sprang free.
Rosa frowned slightly, studying it up close for the first time. It was ugly, like a turtle's head, veined and gnarled like tree roots.
She flicked it playfully, about to lean closer when Ritchie's hips bucked, the tip brushing her lips.
Startled but curious, she froze. What was this? She'd had sex before at thirteen, out of curiosity, with a younger friend. It hurt, nothing special, and she'd never used her mouth.
None of her friends ever mentioned oral either. It wasn't a thing in their circle.
Curiosity won out. Rosa didn't pull away, letting Ritchie take the lead.
Ritchie hesitated at first, wary Rosa might reject him or pull one of her pranks. What if she bit him? But after a dozen thrusts with no reaction, he grew bolder.
Gripping her head, he pushed his cock deeper into Rosa's mouth. Knights were different from ordinary people. When Isabella sucked him, going too deep made her gag and push him out. Rosa didn't flinch. He felt his thick tip hit the back of her throat, even sliding partway into her esophagus.
After dozens of thrusts, just as it felt incredible, Rosa suddenly pulled back, spitting him out. "I'm done. This isn't fun. It's uncomfortable," she huffed, less like a twenty-two-year-old knight and more like a pouting child.
"It'll feel good soon, I swear," Ritchie said, grabbing her shirt and fumbling with her belt.
In his haste, he yanked her pants and underwear down to her knees in one go.
With her pants off, he paused. They were in a kitchen with no chairs, let alone a bed. Scanning around, he hoisted Rosa onto a water tank's lid, a makeshift surface for their tryst.
Rosa let him take charge. Though it had been unpleasant, it was novel. Truth be told, she was curious to see what bizarre tricks this kid might pull. She loved anything new.
With last night's experience, Ritchie wasn't entirely clueless. He parted Rosa's legs. His fingers brushed her pubic hair, sparse but dense and short, rough to the touch. Her delicate pink folds were small, layered with creases, her clit hidden deep within.
Aligning his tip with her enticing slit, Ritchie thrust in hard. Both let out a stifled moan at the same instant.
It was tight, almost forcing his way in, like being gripped by a soft, relentless hand. The narrow passage pulsed, its tender walls squeezing and twisting in waves.