<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-size: 22px"><i><b>S</b></i></span><span style="font-size: 15px">trength comes from within - a burning heart’s desire to meet the end of an objective no matter the obstacles or the consequences. Size, shape, and gender did not matter but rather one’s own merits. <i>How far would one be willing to go? What burning passion is ignited in one’s soul - a weak ember or a strong inflamed fire?</i> But, what she believes have no sustenance - not when others are willing to do anything to water down ideals that could potentially lead to a reformation the other nobles would protest against. She had thoughts that were considered <i>dangerous</i> and the rumours of her ability to rule or her birth rights did not make it easier. No matter how much she was reassured that she should not mind if there were those who supported her or not, the young Queen knew it mattered. <i>Who would stand for her and fight? Who would be loyal and not run and hide? It mattered.</i> The word of the wise never fell short of her ears that helped light aflame the burning desire in her heart, but it was not until recently that she felt the cold silence that made way to her heart — a reminder that nothing last forever.<br/>
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Three years have passed since the crowning of her rule but not a day goes by where she is not looking over her shoulders. Her sleepless and restless nights are not foreign to her as she lies awake in bed — succumbed to her thoughts. The nights were never a friend to her, reminding her that she was alone and the faked peace she believed in was nothing but a fool’s dream. Even with her trusted handmaiden, there were things better left unsaid. Sometimes, ignorance was a bliss.  <i>It is a lonely road if one finds no friends to share joyous celebrations with.</i> She commanded what she willed, raised her power, and showed no weakness or mercy towards the court that mistrusted and failed her. Her authority should be respected without fail and without questions, but those insolent fools think otherwise. <i>What did she have to prove?</i> <br/>
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“Point, Felix of Harkenwood!”<br/>
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An excited and soft squeal vibrated in and out of her ears as the Queen felt a soft tug on her sleeves. Blinking back her forlorn gaze as her eyes glossed over to a natural state of expression that was filled with passivity, Elysande‘s icy, crystal blue eyes penetrated through the crowd under her hood as her attention returned to focus on the tournament, but most of all, <i>Felix of Harkenwood</i>. A name she had not heard in a few years or rather one she thought she would hear again. Her heart jumped slightly at the name sending goosebumps up her arms and down her spine. The feeling always came to like a surprise surreal bliss reminding her that she had emotions and that she could feel if she allowed herself the chance.  <br/>
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“Your Highness!” A low, enthusiastic, feminine voice whispered in urgency almost out of reflex as she wanted to bring the Queen’s attention to the scene, making emphasis on the situation, “the tides have turned! He has - no, there is <i>hope</i>!” <br/>
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Elysande’s eyes twitched at her lady-in-waiting’s remark, not out of annoyance or irritation but at her doubt. There was nothing to be concerned about but the ruffle on her dress proved otherwise. Nevertheless, the Queen hummed a response, giving a slight nod as her gaze found Felix’s silhouette. A sharp pain shot through her chest as Elysande gasped sharply at the sensation she felt before she leaned over to catch her breath. However, before her lady-in-waiting could take note of her state, Elysande quickly placed a hand up, not allowing her trusted lady to worry or make a big deal out of something miniscule. Shaking her head, Elysande gave Clara a knowing look. <i>Do not worry. It is okay.</i> Inhaling and exhaling slowly, Elysande slowly sat up-right once more, grateful for the hood she wore and the disguise both she and Clara managed to dress in. The symbols the knights bore intrigued yet triggered her. Every Knight should dress accordingly to their rank and position giving a uniformed look, however, each Knight’s personality or rather disposition can be recognizable if one looked hard enough through not only their appearance but technique and character.<br/>
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“Pride and cockiness will always be one’s downfall.” Elysande remarked harshly, not batting an eyelash. “The opponent that underestimates the other will always lose his place. And it is then that he has lost.” <br/>
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The Queen was not amused by the power play displayed by Duke Dravingoth, however, it did not fall flat on her ears when she heard the loud, booming cheers of the other onlookers and watchers in the crowd as the young Sir of Harkenwood never gave up and took his moment of opportunity. The spar gave a slight edge and momentum wondering who would prevail as victor. As Elysande observed the young Knight’s footwork and strategy, a curious look displayed on her face as she felt an inquisitive stare from her companion. Without a word, Elysande slowly stood up from her seat, away from the tournament’s view as she didn’t bother to wait  for the tournament to end. As Elysande made her way away from the crowd, Clara trailed behind in wonder only to realise where they were headed: the stables.<br/>
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From a distance, Elysande didn’t have to know who the winner of the match was as she heard the loud supportive cheers. A small and secretive smile etched across her lips as she carried on, walking inside the stables as her eyes gazed upon the different breed of horses. Heading towards the horse at the far end, Elysande slowly raised her hand a few inches away from the animal’s nose, letting the horse smell her scent to know and get used to her presence. <i>What a magnificent creature.</i> Her eyes bore into the mare's, her gaze inquisitive but kind and soft as memories echoed in her ears at a forgotten past.<br/>
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“Your - I mean, Elyse - we shouldn’t be in plain sight just in case it is not Sir Harkenwood but rather the Duke.” Clara urged in worry, hoping Her Majesty would heed her words and hide herself as they waited for Sir Harkenwood. <br/>
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A small shush escaped Elysande’s lips as she spoke lightly to the black-coated horse, waiting for permission from him to gently pet his muzzle. With a small shake of his head, his hair flowing in the wind, the horse neighed lightly, bringing his face closer to Elysande’s hand in approval. Another small smile displayed on her lips as she continued petting the mare’s muzzle feeling comforted and relaxed. As she slowly let go of the beautiful creature, Elysande nodded at Clara’s worries as she walked to the side of her newfound friend’s enclosure finding a small space for both her and Clara to stay hidden for a moment. Quickly running towards her queen and friend, Clara squeaked softly hiding behind Elysande as the doors to the stables opened, revealing a stumbling Sir Harkenwood. Peeking from the side, Elysande gazed upon the male before her. A part of her wanted to run towards him in hopes he remembered her, but a part of her knew she should not display such behaviors, not when she needed his cooperation and trust. <br/>
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Taking out a cloth hidden inside her skirt, Elysande turned to look towards Clara giving her a nod as she whispered lowly, “Wait for me outside. Go through the backdoor of the stables and send a signal if you see anyone approaching.” Hesitantly, Clara nodded before going off as Elysande took a deep breath, making her appearance as she walked towards the Knight. <i>”Fifi! What took you so long?”</i> A small child’s voice echoed in her head as she breathed in and out slowly, shaking her head of the memories. <br/>
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“You are bleeding.” Her voice echoed around the stables as she gazed upon the male, though her expression was hard to decipher. “I apologise if I may have frighten you.” Elysande continued as she waited to slowly stride closer towards the gentlemen. Her long, brunette hair swayed as she waited, her crystal clear, blue eyes lightened as she approached. Elysande extended her hand with a cloth inside of her palm. “Here. You need it more than I.” <br/>
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Her light blue, gold embroidered hood fell over her face as she tried to read the emotions of the male before her, but, she never gave him a chance to speak as she continued  - a habit she would never admit she has when her nerves get the best of her. “I have a request and before you interrupt or ask questions. Please listen.” Elysande spoke, her commanding tone etching through though a hidden indication of fragility and vulnerability slipped. Closing her eyes as she took a small breath, Elysande slowly pulled her hood over head, revealing her soft, porcelain skin and her face that held a soft gentleness despite her hard, cold disposition. Her long, porcelain brunette hair framed her face, flowing all the way down to her waist as a symbol of the kingdom etched the clasp of her hood. The Queen revealed herself, waiting for the Knight’s reaction and response. <br/>
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“What I ask of you is no easy feat. The trials ahead of this journey will bring obstacles, loneliness, and even death if you do not discreetly accomplish it.” The Queen started, stating her warnings, allowing Felix a way out before continuing. “You and I have lost much. But, that can change if you assist me. What do you desire?” She questioned, holding onto hope that the only person in the world to know of her heartache, even if he didn’t know it, could accept her call for <i>help</i>.</span></span>