From inside his closed helmet, Andras smiled knowingly at the scoffers in the crowd. He preferred to compete under a false name so that when he won, his competition couldn't claim to have thrown the match.  Also, this allowed his competitors to escape blame should Andras be seriously hurt. No one wanted to be the one who maimed a prince. Besides, Andras enjoyed being a nobody once in a while â€“ especially if it allowed him to have an honest run on the lists. Afterward, he would come clean to the host once he had been eliminated from the events.<br/><br/>With his distraction now out of sight, Andras returned to the business at hand. With the wardenâ€™s shout both knights and horses charged together at breakneck speed. Hooves flew, dirt arced, and lances cane to level â€“ all to the echoing cheers of the crowd. Wood connected to steel. One spear exploded into splinters with a crack as loud as thunder. One knight smashed to the ground with a growl like thunder.  Andras returned victorious â€“ for this round at least.<br/><br/>Some time later he pushed his way through the crowd looking for the mysterious woman. Not having to ride again until mid-day, he had taken off his armor and was wearing a simple, yet richly-appointed tunic and trousers. His eyes darted back and forth until at last he saw those hazel eyes.<br/><br/>â€œBeg your pardon my lady,â€ he said to her with a bow, interrupting her conversation. â€œMay I have the honor of a word?â€ His eyes smiled with confidence and a subtle charm.