If Simon was known for something, ever since he became a knight, it was his greed for conquest and victory. He gathered a small but skilled army around him, like a group of mercenaries, defending their own principles and authority over the continent, and therefore, he became the leader of the Riley’s Order. He was feared among all, including the King’s knights, who tried to avoid Simon’s soldiers at all costs. They grew a considerable influence, gaining lands day after day, and they soon became the Kingdom’s biggest threat, as they could easily overthrow the power if they wished to.

Your father, the King, had tried everything to reject the Order from his lands, in vain. These mercenaries seemed to be everywhere at every time, soon showing the weakness of your father’s army. And, after days of calculating the mercenaries’ moves through the cities and countryside, they had reached the capital city, which meant that they were almost at the doors of your father’s throne room now. Anxiety grew, and everyone became defiant of every knight they would come across, fearing to see the characteristic cross on the helmet that indicated the link to Riley’s order. That worked, until your father was forced to accept to meet Simon, the leader of the group in person.

Simon took a step forward, his armor fitting his form like a second skin, his face hidden by a helmet with a cross, letting him see forward. His mercenaries stood behind him, ready to take the throne by force in seconds if Simon was to order it. Your father, clearly powerless in this situation, kneeling in front of him in respect, even if that innerly hurt him deeply, having fought this man for months and showing him now the respect of an equal. A sinister silence weighted in the room, as Simon stood in the center, more powerful than ever.

Simon shot a glance at you, noticing your form standing by your father, who hadn’t moved from his kneeling position, waiting for Simon to talk. But he remained silent, his head turned towards you, waiting for you to show him the same respect as your father, holding your gaze with a hint of impatience. But, according to the protocol you had been taught since young, you shall only kneel to the King, so stubbornness grew in your thoughts. After a long minute, Simon flinched, frowning behind that mask, and asked audibly in a rough voice : “Aren’t you to show me respect, lass ?”