Broken Oath & Silent Tears

“Your pants are falling off, Your Imperial Highness,” Medrauta smirked.

Galahad pulled them up furiously. “Y-You have no right to detain me here, Dame Medrauta!”

“I have every right, actually,” Medrauta yawned. “And don’t even try resonating, Lady Rosenhall.” She added as she spotted the lady attempting to discreetly reach her hand toward Galahad’s. “I’ll throw you out the window before you can even bestow your Crest.”

“My father will hear of this!” Galahad shouted.

“He sure will. But I think your sister would like to have some words with you before that.”

As if on cue, Medrauta’s sharp senses picked up the sound of Gwenhwyfar’s angry stomping from the floor below and Viviane’s soft footsteps trailing from behind. Steel striking wood echoed through the building as well, confirming the fact that the princess had arrived with knights, or at the very least, guards.

“Galahad. I am severely disappointed in you.” Gwenhwyfar said as she strode through the door, past Medrauta, and slapped her brother across the face without so much as a second thought. “Just what has gotten into you tonight? First, you refuse to dance the first song with me, and now you’re here. Doing this.”

Galahad glared at his sister, his eyes filled with resentment. “So what? Are you really this upset because I didn’t dance with you? You don’t even want to dance with me, so—”

“Silence, fool. I permitted you to leave because I wanted you to make friends. As embarrassing as it would be for the princess to be bereft of a partner during a gala, it warmed my heart to see that you were enjoying your time with the students here. However, I never expected you to be so irresponsible.”

“Huh!? Who the hell are you to speak of responsibility!? The first damn thing you did when you arrived here was abuse your authority and steal someone’s knight! Irresponsible!? Why don’t you look at yourself first before—”

Gwenhwyfar slapped him again, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent room.

“I said silence, you absolute moron. You are right on one count. I failed to control myself, and I am reflecting on my mistakes. I have apologized, and while that does not undo the wrong I did to Lady Viviane and her knight, I am at the very least cognizant of my faults. Yet you of imperial blood dare sleep with a lady of a ducal house?”

To that, Galahad had no response.

“Ah. I see that miniscule brain of yours is finally working, Galahad. Should she be made to bear a child, then the political ramifications that you have induced tonight will be on a scale of unprecedented proportions. A far cry from what I have done. Surely even you understand the balance of power that must be kept between the four ducal houses?”

The prince lowered his head in shame at his sister’s words. He knew exactly what his sister meant.

As the empire’s greatest powers under the crown consisted of the four ducal houses who all wielded power that was essentially equivalent. Together, they worked in tandem to both support the country and keep one another in check, maintaining a tenuous balance of power that has allowed the empire to prosper to this day.

While he wasn’t the heir, Galahad’s relationship with Isabella of House Rosenhall would no doubt throw that balance into chaos, and he understood that very well. Despite that, he had chosen to pursue his hopeless love even if it earned his sister’s ire.

“Place him under house arrest,” Gwenhwyfar ordered the knights that had accompanied her. “And interrogate him about the matter.”

“...Your Imperial Highness, I hardly think that we have the authority to ‘interrogate’ the prince,” one of the knights protested.

“I am authorizing it. Now go.” Gwenhwyfar’s voice cracked like a whip, and it was clear that she would brook no argument.

The knights surrounded Galahad and lifted him up. He showed no signs of resistance even as they dragged him to the door.

“...Wait,” Galahad spoke at last.

“What is it? You may plead your case to the interrogators if that is what you wish to do.”

“...Let’s end it, Gwenhwyfar.”

“What?”

“Let’s end it. Our oath. You never wanted me as your knight, anyway. You only took pity on me because I was your brother.”

Gwenhwyfar stared at her brother with wide eyes. For a moment, she was so shocked that she couldn’t even respond.

“Admit it, Gwenhwyfar. You’ve never even looked at me once. You’ve never praised my efforts to catch up to you, nor did you even try to tutor me in those damned classes I had to endure. You never stood up for me when the instructor criticized me, and... You’ve never called me ‘brother.’ Not even once.”

“...Is that why you did this? Because you felt slighted?” Despite her brother’s words, Gwenhwyfar’s tone didn’t change, retaining the high-handed attitude that she wielded with abandon. “Because you felt you were being looked down on? You are a fool, Galahad. I only allowed you to be my knight because I recognized your skill. That alone should have been enough praise.”

“...And if that truly was the reason?”

Gwenhwyfar’s eyes merely narrowed in response.

“Bella—No. Lady Rosenhall was the only one who recognized me for my worth. She was the only one who made me feel adequate even after losing that match. Do you know how humiliating it was, Gwenhwyfar? To be felled by a noble? But even after all that, I thought it was fine. It was fine as long as I could fight for you, even if I was fated to remain in your shadow forever. But do you know what I saw when I finally got off that infirmary bed? Nothing. No one. You weren’t there, Gwenhwyfar. YOU DIDN’T EVEN WAIT FOR YOUR OWN BROTHER!”

“Galahad, you are sounding like a child right now.”

“Ironic, coming from you,” Medrauta quipped. She simply couldn’t resist.

“Shut up,” Gwenhwyfar snapped. Medrauta complied, but only because it seemed like the princess truly was furious.

“But you know who was there? Lady Rosenhall was the only one who came to see me after everyone had left. She was actually worried for me, and she praised me for my efforts. In these past few years, she was the only one to utter even a word of praise toward me. Even after our first match, she was the only one who soothed my heart when you resolved to abandon me!”

“I did no such thing.”

“No? Then what of the match you had with the foreigners!? Why was it Dame Medrauta who stood in the arena and not I? You don’t have an answer for that, do you? Look at you, Gwenhwyfar! You can pretend to be justified all you want, but in the end, you’re just like me! An irresponsible slave to your desires! So what if I slept with Lady Rosenhall? She asked for me, so the least I could do was reciprocate! Is that so wrong!?”

“And what else did she desire of you?” Gwenhwyfar asked sharply. “Would you grant her any favor she wished, even if it meant sacrificing your pride as a knight of this country?”

Galahad flinched. He didn’t speak, but his silence alone was an answer louder than any other.

“...Farewell, Galahad. Let our oath be at an end.”

“I hate you, Gwenhwyfar.”

“I know.”

Though a vortex of emotions swam in the princess’ eyes, she remained regal and stoic, her noble bearing immaculate.

Just like a princess should be.

Gwenhwyfar turned her attention to Isabella as the imperial knights escorted Galahad out of the room. She stared down at the noblewoman imperiously.

Surprisingly, Isabella wore a neutral, almost confident expression despite her lover having been literally dragged away mere seconds ago. She turned to the princess, regarding her with a calm and inquisitive gaze.

Gwenhwyfar felt a chill run down her spine. The look in Isabella’s eyes almost implied that the noblewoman had expected this to happen.

“Medrauta. Stand by me,” Gwenhwyfar commanded.

“No.”

The princess’ left eye twitched in irritation. “Lady Viviane. Would you be so kind as to stand next to me so your bull-headed knight can follow?”

“E-Eh!? A-Ah, yes, Your Imperial Highness!” Not expecting to be involved in the situation at all, Viviane stumbled her way to Gwenhwyfar’s side, forcing Medrauta to follow.

The silver-haired knight grimaced at the loophole that the princess had found, but she saw no other option that would allow her to remain by her lady’s side.

“Lady Isabella,” Gwenhwyfar began. “You shall report posthaste to the infirmary tomorrow morning where you will be inspected and dealt with accordingly. Pray that you have not overstepped your bounds.”

“Of course, Your Imperial Highness.” Isabella said with a smile that was no less unnerving than the gaze that she fixed the princess with.

“...Good. Then we are done here, and this matter will never be spoken of again. Good night, Lady Isabella.”

Isabella stood up from her bed elegantly, lifting the hem of her nightgown as she performed a perfect curtsy. Despite her disheveled state, she still somehow managed to look graceful. “Good night, Your Imperial Highness.

The trio swiftly departed from the dormitory. Princess Gwenhwyfar walked ahead of Viviane and Medrauta, distancing herself from the two significantly as they made their way across the campus grounds.

They stopped as the path forked.

“I believe we part ways here. Good night, Lady Viviane. Dame Medrauta,” the princess said. Despite her best efforts, her voice wavered slightly.

“G-Good night, Your Imperial Highness.” Viviane curtsied despite Gwenhwyfar’s face being turned away. Even while unseen, her manners were impeccable.

“Don’t worry about it too much, alright?” Medrauta’s remark was met with silence and the sound of the princess’ heels as she strode away with her chin held high.

Even after the princess disappeared into the lavish building that housed her chambers, the knight couldn’t help but notice the glistening beads that laid on the stone path as they captured the moonlight from above. Their dewlike form would remain until morning, transparent yet filled with emotion.

“...So the princess can cry silently too, huh?”