Elio’s eyes sought those he had met for the last three tournaments. The noble, who’s name he knew not, who’s smile he cherished more than the sun. The first time he had seen that face, like a fool, he was smitten. Though many other people gave him tokens of good luck and affection, it was only theirs that he strived for.

A smile grew as he saw whom he was searching for. He lifted a hand in a wave, to the chagrin of the squire trying to finish putting his armor on. He didn't seem to notice -- too distracted by his beloved.

“This victory is for you,” he mouthed. The armor was finally secured and he puffed his chest with pride, managing to tear his eyes away from them. He had to win.