Challenging the Witcher
Mircea had managed to gather a pool of sweat down her back. However, she was least bothered with the fact that she was soaked with her own sweat. This duel had been rather interesting. He was as tall as Mircea and a little buffed up which was not much of an issue. Mircea was certain she would win this little battle in a few more minutes.
A movement caught Mircea's eyes. She glanced at Urban, who was moving through the little crowd she had gathered. Much to her annoyance it happened frequently. People always wanted to see the queen. He came and stood at the front with Leigh, who had scored his position a while ago.
Her opponent, Elias, strategically attacked Mircea while she was getting distracted by a certain dark curly head witcher. She shifted her attention back, defending herself from the attack. Elias was a cunning bastard who was here to simply win the battle. It was time she finished this battle.
Mircea took a leap and attacked him before he could register what kind of attack she was planning on. She did not stop, she swapped on her knees using the flat side of her sword to knock him down. He fell down, the expression that his face features had pulled was comical. It seemed as if someone told him white river's water was slowly poisoning his body and he was due to die soon. Mircea then pointed directly at his throat leaving him with nothing but failure.
The flock of people that had circled them cheered for Mircea. "Hail the queen," A voice said. Mircea felt a little proud of herself.
She sensed a particular set of green eyes stare boldly into her soul, demanding her attention. Mircea gave into it. She gazed at Urban who had a faint smile on his face, his hands folded right below his now visible abs. She realised he was not wearing his regular clothes. He was sporting black leather, the one she and every other person on this combat practice field had.
It looked ridiculously good on him, the outfit. Whoever had helped him get his hands on the pants and the upper leather did a good job. Mircea shaked her head internally. No. We got over this. She said to her inner animal.
Mircea looked away from him to the real wounded animal in front of her who had bowed down. She knew for a reason he was grimacing while his face faced down at the ground.
"Do you serve at the front?" Mircea asked him. Even if he had played a little dirty, it was normal. She had won. Like always. It didn't matter to her how sick her opponent was unless she won at last. This was her thing and she always had intended it that way.
"Yes, your majesty. I served there but they promoted me to the royal army a few days back."
"Okay." Mircea's eyes swapped up at the front where Leigh was standing. He was looking at her like she was some devil. She simperred at the thought. Leigh was a big fright, how he managed to be a witcher and lived between those cunning beings was out of her mind. Her unfaithful eyes slipped away from Leigh's frame to the tall and lean frame of Urban.
A fuse went off in her mind when she found him staring back with the same intensity.
"You." She pointed at Urban. She unsheathed her sword and raised it at him with a challenging glint in her eyes. Urban's eyes went upward in surprise with her impulsive action. Confused, he pointed at himself, "Yes, you." Mircea said.
"I shall challenge you for a duel." Leigh's jaw dropped after listening to Mircea. He glanced between her and Urban with eyes bulging out. He didn't dare say anything. Urban had gone silent. There was a silent hesitation in his eyes only Mircea and Leigh could see.
"I don't think I have the right to deny the queen." He stepped ahead taking the sword from Elias.
"You can, we don't have any law regarding that in Slyve." Mircea loosened up a bit. She didn't know why she did what she did. At the same time she was ready to take advantage of this situation and defeat him on the field.
You are one petty queen, her subconscious mind roared at her. But it didn't matter, she was going to have fun battling him and winning at the end of it. He had kissed her and then dared to tell her she was being controlled by some old hags her father and his ancestors had kept around for more than a century.
Mircea was mad. She could feel it in her veins.
Anger never wins a battle. Carsten's gruff voice ringed in her ears. She traced the blade of her sword with her finger. At the end of it's tip Mircea purposefully pressed piercing her soft skin. The steel was cold but a familiar cold and she felt good now that her blood was on her sword.
Carsten had found her doing this when she was fifteen summers old. He told her however nervous she was that cutting her finger was not the ideal way of dealing with it. He was wrong to this day. It always helped her-ideal or not.
Mircea didn't know Urban that well, moreover she could be wrong assuming she could defeat him. Howbeit half of the battle is won when you overcome your fear with whatever that is there in that moment telling you to back off.
To this day she had overcome it and she had already won half of the battle. Now she just had to defeat him physically.
Urban gazed at her right in her eyes when he nodded at her indicating he is prepared for what she has to propel at him. Their swords started clanking slowly at first then Mircea decided she didn't want to go easy on him anymore. Initially she attacked him but he held it well. Like he wasn't new to any of this.
Mircea registered that he has done this before.
She had to work this out strategically if she didn't want to make a fool of herself in front of these people. Leigh was chewing on his nails like they were meat and not some filthy dirt collecting plastic. Mircea slowed down and attacked from different angles but he was good at predicting her moves and blocking her.
Mircea moved on her knees to land a blow on his when he jumped aside in defense. It was rather a slow battle. Mircea couldn't figure out his moves. His face was cool like the ocean before the storm which made her doubtful further. There was a rhythmic clank of steel when Mircea tried to get through him. He was excellent at defending every attack she aimed at him that she almost couldn't figure out why she hadn't successfully attacked him yet. Almost.
He was only defending himself. He hadn't attacked Mircea once. And she needed him to attack her in order to win the saints damned duel.
Why wasn't he attacking her?!
It did nothing but riled up Mircea more than she already was. She wanted to shout at him, attack you asshole, but she knew she couldn't. There were people here and they were watching her every movement from the start.
Mircea would have to come up with another strategy if this is how Urban was planning on playing. He was too damn good at defending her attacks, it was like they were doing a routine. Mircea couldn't simply withdraw and if he was perpetually going to be the defender someone had to play attacker. She observed his defense techniques. They were simple and swift just like his face. There was so much indifference in his eyes. Mircea wanted to crack open his skull and sit and look at the thoughts that were running through his brain.
Okay, calm your horses down.
You are going to win this battle. Mircea chanted in her mind focusing on Urban's eyes instead of his body movements. She was going to guide her winning stroke through his green eyes. He was staring at her with a peaked curiosity, the whole battle she had been staring at his sword. She finally had looked up and stared at him in his eyes without flinching away like she had done every time their eyes met after yesterday night's meet.
Her movements became swift and the hunger in her body for his blood dissipated. That was how she was on the battlefield when she lost control of herself she recalled. Urban was not her enemy, even if he said some words that stung, he was not her enemy.
Nevertheless you have to win, her brain squeaked when she finally found an out of his neverending defense system. She attacked him the same way she had attacked Carsten in a duel a few days ago. She had almost won. This time though, there was no almost. Urban did not see it. His expression gave him off and Mircea won the second duel that evening.
Urban did not look like his ego was bruised, he rather beamed up at Mircea raising his other hand up for a handshake. Mircea gazed at it for a moment. She knew there were eyes watching her, and hearts anticipating her next move. She knew he did not deserve a handshake from her in front of all these people after what he said to her last night, however, she wrapped her hand in his giving a quick shake.
"Good game." He called out.