I used to ENJOY this.

I used to ENJOY this.
A bitter thought manifested in the soldier’s mind as the tournament went on. The clash of metal against metal, the blood soaking into the dirt below were imagery that had excited a SMALL BOY in the crowd with a wooden stick for a sword — for an AGED MAN decorated with scars, it was cruel mockery of the battlefields beyond. Time went on tortuously slowly as men after men were slain for sport. Only when he knew he was due after two more battles, he got prepared before being led to the arena.
The armour — his own but extravagantly decorated for the sake of the audience — felt foreign to him when he rode his horse. Wordlessly, he displayed the cloth given to him by the Queen, knowing well to make a show out of tying it around his arm. With this gesture, the world would view him forever MARKED as hers, for better and for worse. Phoebus could not see his opponent’s reaction to tell if the other knew the true meaning of this dual — though it mattered not. All that mattered from now on was the result.
And so they began. Avoiding fatal blows of his enemy’s lance was an easy task but he made it hard to strike back. Minor hits were suffered on both sides for another five runs. Then the game changes — the other’s lance is too low, and it strikes Phoebus to his thigh, nearly knocking him off his horse. It’s a foul move; some would hang him just for trying. Phoebus has no intention of letting that happen. This fight will be fought to the end; otherwise, it won’t feel like a fair victory. He pulled off his helmet, came down his horse and walked with his best ability closer to the Queen’s seat.
❛ I WISH TO CONTINUE. ❜ A breath to calm himself down. ❛ I wish to continue, your Majesty. ❜

♛ | ❛ —————– _{& WITH HER DONATED TOKEN, he was BOUND to her, SHACKLED to her for the sake of his own survival. perhaps a warmth had spread through her chest, emanating from a source so foreign to her now as the connection was paraded before the kingdom. if it had, she would not breath a word of the sensation - let alone attempt to dissect its meaning. ribs tightened upon her lungs, a VICE similar to her corset, sitting forward on the edge of her embellished throne, a hand splayed on the bodice of her gown whilst another clung to the armrest, nails gouging the wood.}

_{the blow which nearly tore her knight from his steed, was far from legal in the rules of the sport. it was a horrid attempt to gain the upper hand, a punishable offense to rid herself of the oaf who preceded the Captain in her midst now. jaw tightening, aching from the force in which teeth were ground together, her hand rose to halt the game’s continuance, the wounded player shifting closer. his words stopped her from ceasing the sport, a slow nod as her acceptance of his desire to fight on.}