A Knight's Worth of Trouble

Lord Dulla Tyranus sunk into bed, gingerly laying his head on his pillow before following it with the rest of his body.

This week had been an exhausting one filled with revelations that he'd never anticipated.

A very strange feeling stirred within him as he glanced at his carefully stored armor and sword. It was some mixture of anger, sadness, and a certain kind of empathy toward that poor soul of a woman.

Dame Eirlys had been raised beneath the burden of her father's antics and reckless gallivanting, forced her to navigate the world with neither guidance nor support and made to constantly clean up that fool's chaos.

But worse than those was the 'blessing' her father had bestowed upon her once she was finally of age.

His mustache curled at the sheer cruelty of it.

That fool of a man had been so obsessed with the idea of 'heroism' and 'righteousness' that he'd cursed his own child with a twisted magic. One that held immense power—to be healed and strengthened—but at a cost too perverted for this world.

Her father had cursed Eirlys to crave pain and to be healed by it.

Lord Dulla let out a sigh weightier than lead. It was clear to him now that the intruder in his domain was not a threat, but instead, a victim of that terrible fool. Unfortunately, there was nothing that could be done to untangle the curse from her, at least not by his hand now. He'd already attempted to remove the damn thing several times and even consulted with the ancient sage of his domain to no avail.

She'd insisted that she was fine with it—that even without the curse she still harbored masochistic tendencies. However, he refused to believe that an otherwise beaming maiden of joy and justice would willingly choose to suffer.

That was, after all, the antithesis of both. Suffering was more his style.

He was already plotting ways to get revenge against her father for what he'd done to her. Perhaps a necromantic ritual of some sort or a vengeful curse to bring the fool back, only for him to be slain again—preferably in an ironic way.

*creak*

The sound of his door opening immediately sent his thoughts into a frenzy, and his eyes shot towards the source of the sound.

He cursed his luck upon seeing that same golden-haired maiden standing there with hands clasped behind her back and a sweet smile on her face.

WHAT WAS SHE DOING—Oh, wait. He'd offered her the use of his guest quarters for the time being, hadn't he?

"Hello, Dulla-sama," she said, her eyes twinkling as if the stars had been stolen from the night sky and placed within them.

"…I thought I told you to stop using that honorific. It is grating to hear, especially with that tone of yours."

His mustache wilted as he rose, put his head back on, and tried not to focus on the way her hair almost glowed in the moonlight.

"But I heard that it was the upmost form of politeness and respect in a faraway plane. I just want to show you how much I care for you."

He dejectedly levitated seats into position for both of them, then sat down in his bed clothes—the wood thankful he wasn't in his usual armor—as he gestured for her to do the same.

"I am nearly as big a fool as you for not having that context explained sooner… Fine. I'll allow it. Though, what brings you to my bedchambers? If you're here to try and seduce me or the like, then you can stop and turn right around now."

She pouted with overwhelming adorableness. "B-but I'm already married to you, Dulla-sama~!"

"…You are not," he deadpanned. "You are simply using the room that was once meant for my betrothed before my, erm, untimely death."

"Aw, but I thought you loved me… Why else would you have been so nice and invited me to stay with you in such a precious part of your home?"

He stared at her in both disbelief and exasperation. How could she possibly think that his actions had been anything other than a sign of basic courtesy?! It was only natural that he shared the delights of his table, the warmth of his fire, and all the comforts and luxuries of his keep with her, because…

Because…

Bah. Dammit.

"Listen, I was simply attempting to be a good host," he mumbled, trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible. "After learning your father had done such a terrible thing to you, I couldn't in good conscience let you be without at least attempting to help."

"I see." She nodded, genuine gratitude tinging her voice. "But my love, I must ask you, what do you plan to do to me now?"

His gaze drifted to the window, taking in the night sky.

"I have several plans, some of which have already fallen through. However, I will continue to insist on your well-being. I will not stand idly by while you suffer from that blasted curse."

"But my love, I am not suffering—"

"Silence. I have already unearthed some potential leads from my archivists. It may take years, but I swear that I will—"

Her finger pressed up against his mouth in a shushing gesture.

"Dulla-sama, I already said that I am fine with this. It's a part of who I am, and it makes me the perfect partner for you."

He gently pried her hand off his face as he tried not to linger on how not unpleasant that was.

"…What in the blazes are you on about?"

"You're effectively immortal, right? My blessing also grants me a form of immortality, albeit in a different way achieved through constant beatings. In short, I can be here for you, by your side, forever."

"…And why do you want to stay by my side forever?"

"I know it sounds cliché, but I love you." Eirlys smiled, a glint in her eyes that made him squirm.

"That's… not a good enough reason."

"Hm? If you need, I have a few more."

She rested her head in her hand as she continued.

"Father ranted a lot about you and intrigued me about your past; you are a dark, powerful, and broody man of which attributes I have a severe weakness for; it's clear to me that you have a good head on your shoulders, and combine that with our fight and getting to know your hidden heart? Well, I can safely state that there's no one else in this world or the next that I could see myself with."

Lord Dulla's mustache bristled, any fair-intentioned protest completely squashed.

Eirlys shifted slightly in the chair as the silence stretched between them, looking embarrassed as if she were contemplating saying something else—perhaps to enhance or change her prior statement.

"Out with it," he ordered, now more curious about her thoughts than annoyed. "What else is there to add…?"

Cheeks flushed as her eyes flicked to his, captivating his attention with the shyest and earnest of smiles.

"…I also heard you were a sadist. So if we do marry, you could beat the tar out of me every day and I'd be the happiest—"

He used his magic to lift her up, completely done with listening.

"Out."

"Dulla-sama, please! I was just—"

"I said OUT!"

She giggled as she was deposited in the hallway and the door slammed behind her.

He turned away dejectedly, wondering just where in the world the sanctity of knighthood had gone.

"I love you~!" she called out, muffled by the thick wood of his door.

Lord Dulla sighed and shook his head. He'd never met someone who was able to get under his skin like she could.

It was going to be a long several years, wasn't it?