I Will Be the Greatest Knight

Irene stiffened up slightly. Why did he seem so certain of something about someone he had never met before?

"Just what are you thinking?" she responded weakly. "Please keep in mind that he was a dear friend to me."

Henry’s hand moved to Irene’s back as he offered her quiet comfort in the form of touch—not that she could feel all that much through the layers they were forced to wear. Despite their conversation, their backs faced a rigid cold. He couldn’t wait to pull the tent closer to the fire and warm up more properly with his wife at his side.

"And I will forever praise his memory that he never tried to ask you for anything more," Henry admitted. "Because those are the words of a teenager who is in love."

Irene had spent years avoiding thinking more about Leif’s words. She had always considered that they meant he truly was her dearest friend because of the way he was so willing to keep her secret even without her knowing.

But she was now married. She had slightly more perspective than she did back then. Henry knew the minds of a teenage boy far better than she did. Perhaps there was something to what he was saying.

However, she also didn’t want it to cloud Henry’s perspective because this wasn’t something the two of them had ever faced with one another before.

Her gaze dropped as she leaned into Henry.

"I swear there was never anything to that," she promised, knowing that she didn’t have room in her heart for Lief the way she did for Henry. Her feelings about the two were so vastly different. "We relied on one another as two apprentices struggling through a war and taking on responsibilities we were never meant to."

Henry pulled her closer by wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"I wouldn’t dare think ill of what the two of you went through together," he assured her. "I heard the stories from your father about how badly you were hurt trying to seek revenge for your dear friend. I am, and have always been, selfishly relieved that there weren’t more obstacles around you."

A small smile pulled at Irene’s lips.

"I have no resistance when it comes to you," she uttered. "I suppose that was why it had to be you I married."

"And it’s a great honor knowing that you aren’t that way to anyone else," he responded.

Henry had his own skeletons in his closet in the form of a princess whom he had given far too much of himself to, not knowing that there would be someone who would touch his soul in a way he could have never predicted.

For a few more moments, they leaned against one another, relishing in the fact that they didn’t have to take on this journey alone. Eventually, they did have to make their dinner and get to sleep so that they could make the most of what little daylight they were afforded in the dark northern winters.

Two times in the night, Henry woke up to make sure their fire was still lit and that they wouldn’t freeze. It also made it early for Irene to wake up first and make porridge for the two of them before they could make sure their horses were fed and drank adequate water before they were on their way once more.

It was slow-moving like this for days, but Irene preferred this style of travel, where she was able to talk to another person outside of a horse and her journal. People truly did need others for them to feel fulfilled.

What remained the same, however, was that everything they did outside of speaking to one another was for survival. And Irene’s pride swelled when she was the one leading their journey, while Henry didn’t doubt her direction and followed her every word.

Every other camp they made, Irene would tie a ribbon to an obvious part and secure it tightly, hoping that it would be enough for the other knights to see the markings when they went up in a few more days. Leaving behind signs that they were okay was good when the people who followed them were unbelievably stressed at the thought of being in knighthood without their leader again.

Felix was especially considered because it was clear he didn’t want the mantle of Duke or Commander, even if he was chosen. She thought it was funny that, despite all of his experience, which was enough for taking on a knighthood, he didn’t want to be permanently burdened by a life he hadn’t chosen.

The sun was high that day, and Irene gasped when she finally realized where they were headed.

Only a few steps more, and they were on the flattest part of the mountain.

The two pulled off the scarves covering their faces so they could speak to one another. They also let go of their horses’ reins because they trotted along ahead into the pristine white flatness ahead, a sign that they had made it to the plateau where grasses covered this area of the mountain.

"We’re at the top," Henry realized in disbelief. "And it’s been..."

"Five days," she explained. "Turns out I travel at the same pace as I did a couple of years before."

Henry smiled, and his dark eyes scanned ahead.

"That means we can ride our horses now?" he questioned.

"Yes," Irene responded. "It will be a smoother trip for a while, but mind the wind and keep your hood close to your head."

Irene wasn’t lying, it turned out.

As they went on, relieved to be able to move faster as they pressed forward on this plateau, the winds picked up, and the once blue sky was obscured with white clouds. The gusts were so severe that they started moving the top layer of fluffy snow and whipping it over the travelers.

These types of snowdrifts would be enough for them to call off all outside activities when they were at the Duke’s Tower. As Irene cast a glance over her shoulder at how her husband was faring, she found his posture lowered as he tried to press on. She appreciated his determination, but she had to come to terms with the fact that it wouldn’t be the same trip she went on the first time. It was time to make a call.

"I think we should stop here!" Irene shouted. "It’s getting dangerous to move forward without knowing which direction we’re headed!"

Henry had to agree. For someone who was only just getting used to living in the snow of Chemois, this was on another level.

They both slipped off their horses and pulled their horses closer. They all huddled together, their horses’ haunches being their wind-blocker as they put their arms around their horses’ necks and each other. Henry pulled out one of his furs and pulled it over all of their heads. They shared warmth and braved the windstorm in the safest way they could in a world of only white and no shelter.

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