CHAPTER 140: RULES

{Music Recommendation: Yelena Belova ~ Lorne Balfe}

He wasn’t healing. It was getting worse. Rhane stared at the reflection of his stomach from the mirror before him. He’d changed the stitches and even had it treated, but what he needed was a good rest and some days without doing anything strenuous.

Rhane knew better than anyone how long it takes for infected injuries like this to heal, but this wasn’t the time to know better. It was a time to go harder. He was close to getting what he wanted, and not even himself could stop that.

Grabbing a needle from the table, Rhane began to stitch again. Each time he covered the wound up, something caused it to rip open again.

"Hmm," Rhane groaned, grinding his teeth. Working skillfully and with pain, Rhane’s mind trailed to Hart. He had been too occupied recovering that he hadn’t thought the man would join in the competition.

That day when his health got worse, Rhane had used his men to hunt wild boars while he rested up inside his room, missing breakfast. Percy, on the other hand, had to wait to retrieve the game from his men and return it to the kitchen.

It had all gone as planned. When he felt better, Rhane had joined them. Nobody had suspected anything. What Rhane didn’t get prepared for was Hart joining the tourney. Who had invited the young man or why, Rhane didn’t know, but what he was certain of was Hart was being used as a pawn by someone.

Cutting out the thread, Rhane used a clean, dry bandage to cover the wound. Then he draped on his body, a white shirt.

Gerald? Too stupid to think up such. Jenna’s father? The man didn’t have any reason to get involved. No matter who it was who won, he had nothing to lose.

"Nikolai," Rhane murmured, brushing his hair in a slick-styled manner.

Nikolai was the only perfect answer Rhane could come to. The devious man had more reasons to put an extra opponent if he didn’t see Gerald as competent. And using Hart, who could be easily manipulated, was a kind of perfect picture Nikolai would think of.

Fitting into his boot, Rhane grabbed his long jacket and got ready to leave. He didn’t have the slightest idea of what or where they were going as they hadn’t told them anything, but he was prepared for whatever.

Percy rushed into the room like he was being chased, or rather hiding from something. But he was slow enough not to throw the contents he carried in a tray. Seeing that Rhane was ready, he picked up the bowl of medicine and walked towards Rhane.

"I had a good friend of mine, now a physician, prepare this," he handed it to Rhane. "It should help with the pain and slow down the infection. I had him mix the best herbs."

Rhane pushed the bowl to his mouth, "Thank you, Percy."

Percy’s face turned pink, he shrugged. "Kali will kill me if anything happens to you." He glanced at Rhane’s stomach. He had noticed the blood stains when Rhane returned. And from what Percy had come to understand about Rhane, the young man was yet to tell Jenna of his situation.

Rhane dropped the bowl back on the tray with a sigh, smacking his tongue to get rid of the bitterness.

"Did you ask around?" Rhane asked, tucking his shirt properly. "How come your beloved young master is here... did you bring him yourself?"

Percy dropped the tray, ruffling his hair with his hand. "Have I not proved my will to live enough?" He asked in the most dramatic way possible.

Rhane’s lips curled at the young man’s reaction, but he didn’t smile.

"I even... yesterday at the ga—" Percy closed his eyes, a wry exhale slipping from his lips.

"Nobody seems to know how he got invited. Not even the council members," Percy replied, his fingers tapping his lips. "Do you think he lied his way in?"

Rhane shook his head. "I doubt that’s the situation." If Hart was lying, the council would have removed his involvement. But seeing how nobody spoke of it, someone in high power had invited the young man.

"I found something interesting though," Percy broke into Rhane’s thought. "Lord Nikolai didn’t leave with us... I—" he moved closer and whispered.

"I saw him leave the room yesterday, but I couldn’t follow him because I was watching out for Master Brown and the council men," Percy informed.

"But Lord Nikolai left, and he didn’t return with us... not until this morning."

Rhane hummed, tilting his head to the side. He nodded his head slowly, "You’ve done well, Percy. Leave the rest to me."

Percy cleared his throat, feeling important. He pointed at Rhane’s stomach. "We don’t know what the council has planned. You might need to be careful and... when will you tell Lady Jenna about the in—"

"If you’re done, shut up and follow me." Rhane walked past the young man, making his way to the door.

Percy closed his eyes and sighed, "I’m really worried for him," he cried before running after Rhane.

Everyone gathered outside, ready to set out for the contest. The morning was bright and the day had promises of beauty.

The council were excited to see young men in their highest spirits entertain them. It wasn’t every day they were chanced to have such a ceremony.

"Heavens bless my daughter with the best man!" Master Brown kissed the wet earth before standing up.

The leader of the council stepped forward. "If you have a change of heart after meeting other women last night, now is the time to step out and back down."

Gerald raised his shoulders, a wicked grin forming on his lips when he glanced at Rhane. He no longer had a bandage around his neck, but it was now wrapped around his arm.

"Anyone?" The leader asked again. Minutes passed and there was silence. "No one." The man hummed.

"Listen, gathered suitors and men of honor.

By order of the Council, and with the blessing of Heaven, a tournament shall be held to determine who is worthy to lay claim to the heart and hand of Lady Jenna Brown."

"The first event is The Hunt. Each man shall ride into the wild to capture worthy game. The finest catch, judged by size and skill of capture, earns the mark of honor."

"Followed by The Trial of Fire, the Cook’s Labor, the Drinking Contest, the Trial of Veil, and finally the Card of Hearts... each event reveals the true measure of a man— his power to provide, his will to protect, the openness of his heart, his word as bond, and his strength to endure. It also reveals the softer edge... the nurturer within him.

"Let it also be known, there shall be no cheating, nor striking a rival outside the contest. Respect is owed to the Lady and the Council at all times."

The silence that followed the man’s voice was enough to show the already high spirits of the men involved.

"Let the trial now begin..."