Chapter Two Hundred and Eighty-Eight – You’ve Gotta Right to Your Fights
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Chapter Two Hundred and Eighty-Eight - You've Gotta Right to Your Fights

I was expecting it to take a few hours to set up an arena and have someone send an invitation to Francisco. My expectations didn’t account for Caprica being really good at leveraging her princess-ness to get others to do the work for us.

A few guards and messengers were dispatched across the city, zipping away on fleet wings to prepare things for our savagery.

We, in the meantime, finished our tea. It was a very nice flowery tea that tasted a bit like green tea, but significantly sweeter. “I can’t believe you’re going to be in a duel,” Gabrielle said. She was right on the edge of her seat, feet swinging with barely restrained energy under the table. “That’s so cool!”

“It’s less amusing when the person you have to fight is as loathsome as Fransisco,” Amaryllis said.

“You don’t like him?” Gabrielle asked.

Amaryllis sniffed. “I dare say few people do.”

That was a bit mean, but I didn’t think I’d be changing Amaryllis’ way of seeing people between then and the time the duel started.

“What did he do?” Gabrielle asked. She was genuinely curious, and only stopped leaning forwards when Orange decided that Gabrielle--being the centre of attention at the moment--had the nicest lap to sit upon.

“He’s an uncouth, poorly educated, rude fool who likes sticking his beak where no one wants it stuck,” Amaryllis said.

“He’s her ex-fiance,” I whispered across the table. “They don’t get along.”

Gabrielle raised the hand that wasn’t petting Orange to her mouth to stifle a gasp. “An arranged marriage.”

“Deranged, more like,” Amaryllis muttered.

“We’re quite fortunate in that regard,” Caprica said. “While I suppose father could technically arrange something, I don’t think he’d dare.”

“The king wouldn’t dare arrange a marriage?” Awen asked.

Caprica grinned and Gabrielle giggled. “Mother would skin him. Besides, father broke with tradition when he married mother.”

“How’s that?” I asked.

“She was a paladin. A non-noble paladin. Better than a commoner, in the eyes of the nobility, but not by much,” Caprica said.

Gabrielle nodded, entirely enthusiastic. “They married for love; it’s super romantic. Apparently father tried really hard to impress her by becoming a good fighter, and she just kept beating him in every spar. Mother’s very proud of her win record against him, and father’s face turns very red whenever she starts talking about it.”

“That’s really cute,” I said.

Caprica chuckled. “I suppose it is. In any case, I think if father tried to arrange a marriage for any one of his children he’d have to deal with an entire cohort of angry princesses and a very irate queen.”

A maid slid into the room and bowed next to Caprica to whisper something into her ear. She nodded, then patted down the front of her pants as she stood. “I think it’s time for us to get going. There’s a carriage waiting for us out front.”

“Already?” I asked.

“It would be best to arrive early, I think,” Caprica said. “That way you can have more time to inspect the grounds and perhaps stretch before you have to exert yourselves.”

We gathered up our things and headed out of the greenhouse. The cold outside stung at my face for a moment. I wasn’t expecting it to get colder while we were inside. The temperature around Goldenalden seemed to vary a lot, but it was always hovering between cool and chilly. It probably had something to do with the altitude and all the mountains around us messing with the wind.

We boarded a nice carriage, Gabrielle, Orange and Caprica to one side, my friends and I on the other. Then we were off.

“The Calcifer Spood Memorial Arena isn’t far from here,” Caprica said. “It’s not the most prestigious location for a duel, but it’s a respectable one. The arena is open at all reasonable hours, and there are quite a few young nobles who hang around either to watch others fight, or to spar.”

“Is duelling a big thing?” I asked.

“More or less? It’s one of the less civilised ways of resolving a conflict, but with stringent rules in place and healers on site, it’s uncommon for someone to die, and it is a much faster way to resolve some petty arguments than any legal proceedings.”

“Also, it’s more fun,” Gabrielle gushed. “I imagine a lot of dashing lords go there to fight for their honour when they are insulted, or if a lady they’re fond of has been insulted.”

Caprica rolled her eyes. “Yes, I suppose there’s that. Bastion always said that it was less about honour and more about hormones and shortsightedness. I never spent any time around duelling clubs or the like.”

“I think the situation is similar in the Harpy Mountains,” Amaryllis said. “It’s a way for younger lords to blow off steam, impress each other, and not cause a ruckus in less-appropriate venues.”

It didn’t take long before the carriage rattled to a stop, and a sylph guardsman opened the door for us.

There were a lot more guards around than when Caprica headed out. Was it because there were two princesses out at the same time, or was it because Gabrielle was different? I had the impression that she didn’t leave the house as much.

When Gabrielle sniffled, a maid sylph was instantly by her side, wrapping a thick woolly shawl over her shoulders.

The Calcifer Spood Memorial Arena was a grand building. It squatted amidst buildings that rose above it, an impressively broad edifice of sculpted, weather-worn stone, whose wide entrance beckoned anyone to enter and beat people up.

There were other carriages around, but mostly the sylph around the arena seemed to be on foot. They were noble lords and ladies, young ones mostly. They were also all staring our way.

“We’re the centre of attention.” I said.

“That’s hardly something unusual for you,” Amaryllis said.

“I’m not an attention-seeker... am I?” I asked.

Amaryllis huffed, but she did bump into my shoulder as if to say she was just joking. “It’s likely the carriage. And maybe they recognize the princesses.”

“The crest does lack some subtlety,” Caprica said with a tilt of her head towards the carriage. There was a big crest on the door that I hadn’t really paid much attention to.The two or three squads of guards were likely not helping much either.

We started into the building. The entranceway didn’t have a door, instead it was a wide opening under an arch. A large brazier sat just within, crackling with fire that warmed us up as we approached.

I glanced over my shoulder as we moved in, and couldn’t help but notice all the whispering from the people outside. A number of nobles were moving from restaurants and shops across the street towards the arena. There was a growing sense of excitement filling the air, as if everyone suddenly expected something grand to happen.

A sylph stood on the other side of the brazier, looking as though he were trying very hard to not look as though he’d just run over in a hurry. He bowed at the waist. “Princess Caprica, Princess Gabrielle, and of course your lovely companions. My name is Augustus Spood. I welcome you to my grandfather’s arena. Anything you desire, I shall do my best to provide for you.”

Caprica bowed back, a much shallower bow, but one that had the sylph standing straighter. “Hello, Lord Spood. I was hoping I could borrow one of your arenas? My companions here were issued a challenge, and we intend to see it through.”

“I would be honoured,” he said. “We have one of the safest arenas in all of Goldenalden, as you likely well know. I can assure that we will keep your friends healthy and hale, regardless of the outcome of any spar or duel. Did you wish to use one of the smaller, more private arenas? I can have the area cleared of everyone but the judge and medical staff.”

Caprica glanced our way. “How certain are you of being able to defeat Hawk?”

“Very,” Amaryllis said. “He might have a decent class, but he has no real experience, and I suspect we at the very least match his level, if we don’t surpass it outright.”

Caprica nodded as she turned back to Augustus Spood. “In that case, having more witnesses wouldn’t go amiss.”

“We can certainly arrange that,” Lord Spood said with a genial smile. “Might I have the details of this duel?”

They spoke quietly as we started to make our way down one of the corridors that seemed to bisect the building, then up a wide staircase. Soon we were crossing spaces where we could see little arenas below. Sand-filled squares with a row or two of seats far above, none bigger than a wrestling ring.

I didn’t pay much attention to the conversation, instead turning my focus inwards. I was about to get into a fight. It didn’t feel like it would be a very challenging one, but... still. I asked Mister Menu to display my skills, just in case.

       
  Name Broccoli Bunch  
  Race Bun (Riftwalker)  
  First Class Cinnamon Bun Bun  
  First Class Level
12​
 
  Second Class Wonderlander  
  Second Class Level
4​
 
  Age
16​
 
       
  Health
150​
 
  Stamina
155​
 
  Mana
145​
 
       
  Resilience
65​
 
  Flexibility
80​
 
  Magic
30​
 
       
  Skills Rank  
  Cinnamon Bun Bun Skills    
  Cleaning S - 04%  
  Way of the Mystic Bun D - 100%  
  Gardening D - 37%  
  Adorable D - 100%  
  Dancing D - 100%  
       
  Wonderlander Skills    
  Tea Making C - 03%  
  Mad Millinery D - 89%  
  Proportion Distortion D - 14%  
       
  General Skills    
  Insight C - 97%  
  Makeshift Weapon Proficiency C - 17%  
  Archeology D - 00%  
  Friendmaking C - 75%  
  Matchmaking D - 64%  
  Hugging Proficiency E - 48%  
  Captaining E - 49%  
       
  Cinnamon Bun Bun Skill Points
1​
 
  Wonderlander Skill Points
3​
 
  General Skill Points
3​
 
       
       
  First Class Skill Slots
0​
 
  Second Class Skill Slots
0​
 
  General Skill Slots
3​
 
       

I had improved a little bit, but it felt like it wasn’t all that much. There was a natural slow-down as my skills took longer to improve, of course, but also I hadn’t done any real focused practice in a while. At the rate I was going, it was going to take a long time before I hit any big milestone again.

I still had some free skill-slots for my General Skills too. Those weren’t, surprisingly, filling up with random skills. I’d have to ask Amaryllis to see if that was normal or not. I really, really had to find a chivalry-based skill so that I could turn Adorable into Dork Knight.

“This is the main arena, ladies,” Augustus Spood said with a grand gesture to the side.

The main arena was about the size of a badminton court, with a floor covered in fine sand, and lit by hanging chandeliers filled with glowing crystals that filled the room with blue and yellow and orange light.

Three rows of seats circled the room about a metre off the ground, with a shimmering barrier between the crowds and the floor. Likely that was in case some spell went off and flew towards the witnesses.

“I suspect this will do just fine,” Caprica said. “Lord Spood, do you have a way to inform people of an upcoming... small event? Ah, and a place where my companions can be filled in on the rules of a proper gentleperson’s duel?”

“Certainly,” he said. Then he glanced past our group and guards and to the end of the corridor.

We followed his gaze.

I hadn’t expected Francisco to show up so soon. Did he know we’d be here?

For that matter, I didn’t expect him to show up with new friends. Two sylphs and a human, all in nice but well-worn armour, and all looking very much out of place amongst so many nobles.

I had a sinking feeling in my tummy as I saw the grin Francisco wore.

***

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