Fated Eclipse: The Illegitimate Princess And Her Alpha Suitors

Chapter 355: The Spear and the Lesson

Lyria’s POV

Even I found the situation amusing. I could not help it—a small chuckle escaped me as I watched Baron Redwick stand frozen in the centre of the arena, his sword still raised, his expression one of utter disbelief.

He had won.

He had actually won.

For several seconds, the Baron appeared as though he were waiting for someone to inform him that there had been some mistake. Then, perhaps realising that thousands of people were watching him, he lowered his sword and looked towards the royal dais.

Jacinta, however, looked thoroughly disgusted and disappointed. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, and she made no effort to conceal her displeasure.

"That was hardly a display of skill," she muttered. "The Marquess simply fell. Anyone could have won in such a manner."

I glanced at her, but said nothing.

It was not my place to argue, and besides, I had no desire to draw attention to myself.

Baron Redwick bowed to the royal family before walking away, his movements still carrying that same air of bewilderment. Unlike Jacinta, the commoners seemed to have thoroughly enjoyed the spectacle. Their cheers had not yet faded, and I could still hear the echoes of their enthusiasm drifting across the arena.

I could not blame them.

I had been frightened for Baron Redwick before the match began. I knew he was not a fighter by nature, and I had worried that he might be injured or humiliated before the entire kingdom.

Instead, he had somehow managed to win.

And that was all that truly mattered.

The next match was already being prepared.

Now it was time for Duke Valenridge.

Another match I found myself anxious about.

Corvin was a skilled fighter. I knew that from our years of friendship, years ago. He had always been quick, precise, and ruthless when it came to combat.

He was not the sort of man one wished to face with a sword in one’s hand.

But I had no idea whether Duke Valenridge possessed similar abilities.

I wanted him to win.

I wanted it desperately.

If only to teach Corvin a lesson.

If only to see that arrogant expression wiped from his face.

I knew it was rather childish of me.

I did not particularly care.

Jacinta sat upright in her seat, her attention sharpening as the two men approached the weapons rack. She seemed more interested in this match than she had been in any of the others.

Corvin moved first.

He selected a sword with practiced ease, testing its weight before adjusting his grip with the confidence of a man who had done this countless times before. There was no hesitation in his movements.

Duke Valenridge, however, surprised me.

Instead of choosing a sword, he picked up a spear.

I blinked.

A spear?

Jacinta hummed thoughtfully.

"This shall be the first time I have seen anyone fight with a spear," she remarked. "I wonder if it is common in Blackmere."

The Queen’s voice was cool when she answered.

"Blackmere is a place filled with barbarians," she said. "Who knows whether the Duke selected it merely for the novelty of it. Nevertheless, a gentleman ought to use nothing but a sword, even if the result becomes as unseemly as the Baron’s match."

I pretended as though they were not speaking.

They would not have bothered to include me in the conversation in any case, and I had no desire to invite their attention.

Instead, I focused on Duke Valenridge.

He walked towards the centre of the arena, his spear held loosely in one hand. His expression was unreadable.

He looked calm.

Corvin took his position opposite him, his sword held firmly at his side.

The two men regarded one another.

Neither spoke.

The arena gradually fell silent.

Even the commoners seemed to sense that this match might be different from the others.

Then the bell rang.

Corvin moved immediately.

His sword arced towards Duke Valenridge with considerable speed, the blade catching the afternoon light as it cut through the air.

The Duke did not retreat.

Instead, he drove the spear into the ground.

The sudden movement brought the shaft directly into Corvin’s path, forcing him to stop before his blade could reach its intended target.

A murmur passed through the crowd.

Corvin’s expression changed.

He had not expected that.

Neither, apparently, had anyone else.

Duke Valenridge twisted the spear, knocking Corvin’s sword aside before stepping forward.

Corvin recovered quickly.

He attacked again.

This time, his movements were faster.

The Duke parried.

Corvin swung from the opposite direction.

The Duke blocked again.

The spear moved with surprising fluidity in his hands. He used the shaft to keep Corvin at a distance, turning every attempted strike aside before it could become dangerous.

Corvin changed tactics.

He slid to the side, dodging the spear before moving around the Duke and attempting to come at him from behind.

For a moment, I thought he had succeeded.

Then the Duke turned.

The bottom of the spear struck Corvin squarely in the stomach.

He doubled over with a strangled gasp.

A collective sound rose from the crowd.

Duke Valenridge did not pause for long.

He twisted the spear in his hands, using the blunt end to strike Corvin’s wrist.

Corvin’s grip faltered.

Another strike landed against his legs making him stumble.

Then the shaft caught him across the side of the head.

Corvin staggered backwards, one hand flying instinctively towards his temple.

His expression was one of utter disbelief.

I could hardly believe what I was watching either.

Duke Valenridge had not merely chosen an unusual weapon.

He knew exactly how to use it.

The Duke stopped.

For a moment, the two men simply stared at one another.

Then Duke Valenridge stepped closer.

He reached out with his free hand and caught Corvin by the front of his clothing, pulling him forward.

His lips moved.

I could not hear what he said.

Whatever it was, however, it had an immediate effect.

Corvin’s eyes widened while Duke Valenridge smiled.

Then to my utter disbelief he knocked Corvin on the head.

A gasp escaped several people in the audience.

Corvin’s hand flew to his head, his expression one of dazed confusion.

As if that wqs not enough shock, the Duke slapped him across the face.

The sound echoed across the arena.

For one astonishing moment, everything went completely silent.

Corvin slowly turned his face back towards him.

His hand moved to his cheek.

Duke Valenridge merely regarded him with the same calm expression.

I stared.

Had he truly just slapped him?

Jacinta too was in shock.

Even the Queen appeared momentarily taken aback.

Then Duke Valenridge moved again.

With a smooth motion, he struck Corvin’s wrist and forced his fingers open.

The sword fell.

The Duke caught it before it struck the ground.

He looked at it for a moment, turning the weapon slightly in his hand.

Then, with complete disregard, he tossed it aside.

The sword clattered across the arena floor.

Corvin stared after it.

The Duke returned his attention to him.

He stepped forward, bringing the sharp end of the spear to rest against Corvin’s neck.

He tilted his head, a smile on his face.

The gesture was almost polite.

Corvin’s breathing had become heavy. His hair was dishevelled, his cheek reddening from the slap, and a thin line of blood marked the corner of his mouth.

Yet the humiliation seemed to anger him more than the injuries.

His fists clenched tightly.

His entire body had gone rigid.

I could see the hatred in his eyes from where I sat.

Duke Valenridge seemed to notice it too but he did not look frightened.

If anything, his smile deepened.

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