"Quiet, knave!" Blueblood sneered, his eyes still wide. That rotten chancellor he paid off had gone back on him! Blasted bird; what did the human promise him!? He was up there, somewhere, probably in the tower hosting the royal viewing box with the king. He had been so nervous yesterday when he went into his first boorish fight. A young griffon squire had been his opponent, and he remembers screaming stallionfully and not like a little filly at all when the fiend's halberd fell apart mid swing. His sword made short work of the poor bird, embarrassing the weaponless griffon three rounds in a row. Blueblood grew more confident and bold with each win. By the time he reached his second duel, this time against some waif of a dog, he quickly made short work of the nervous creature. It had been harder, but he could handle himself. He was a prince of Equestria and the equal to any of its elite royal guards! He had only to realise it! Oh, how he thought his aunties were furious with him!