Lander stood slightly dumbstruck, his blue eyes roaming over the crowd. It was the first time since the tournament started that he didn’t have his mind focused on other things, so he finally noticed just how many people were watching him. The roar of their cheers and applause was deafening. He glimpsed a flash of movement in the corner of his eye and turned to see Sir Jerald struggling to get up from the ground. Lander reached out to help him, but the knight swatted his hand away and shot him a poisonous look.

“Don’t touch me, peasant,” he snarled. He got shakily to his feet and put a hand to the wound Lander had inflicted upon his side. His fingers came away flecked with dark red blood. The knight clicked his tongue and muttered to himself, “I’ll have to get this cleaned…” He straightened his back as much as he could without wincing to try and appear dignified as he walked away.

Lander was left standing by himself in the center of the arena. He fidgeted with his sword hilt uncomfortably. The king never gave any directions about what to do next. He glanced up at the stand where the king had been sitting to find that he had vanished. [i]Where did he go?[/i] Lander looked around, but there were too many people to pick out any individual face. Was he supposed to have followed the king out? Did the king decide not to pay him because he was a commoner? Dozens of questions like these flitted through his mind as he stood in the arena.

He was put at ease when the man he assumed was the king’s advisor approached him with the princess. The king himself was not among them. Perhaps he thought Lander was unworthy of his time. It was not an impossible theory. Even the princess’s disgust for him was concealed thinly enough for Lander to notice it when she addressed him.

[b]“Congratulations, Champion Lander. Your fighting skills are… admirable,”[/b] she said. There was no mistaking the hesitation in her voice when she offered the compliment. Lander was not offended though. He was only here to claim the gold for his village, not impress some arrogant royal with his swordsmanship. She could despise him if she wished.

“Thank you,” Lander said.

“As part of your reward, you have been invited to dine with the royal family tonight,” the king’s advisor said. Lander wasn’t sure if he wanted to attend, but the advisor’s tone suggested that he didn’t have a choice in the matter. He nodded and followed the two out of the arena. Dinner was part of the reward, but what about the gold? The advisor had said nothing about it. Lander once again feared that the king had revoked his offer.

“When will I see my prize money?” he ventured. He knew the question made him sound greedy, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to be sure the king would keep his end of the bargain so Lander could fulfill his own promise to his family.

“In time,” the advisor replied vaguely. Lander fell silent, deciding the man wasn’t going to tell him anything else about the matter. At least it still sounded like he would be paid for his efforts. That was good enough for now.

--

Lander couldn’t help but gape at the sheer vastness of the king’s castle. Even when he tilted his head back he could not see the top when he stood directly in front of it. The walls stretched out on either side, seemingly endless. There were probably hundreds of rooms inside. The royal family had so much wealth, it was astounding. Yet there were children dying of starvation in the outer villages. The thought made him feel sick.

“This way,” the voice of the advisor pulled him from his thoughts. He realized the other two had gone on ahead and were waiting for him by the main portal. He hurried to catch up with them as they went inside.

The interior was even more beautiful than the outer walls. Wood and stone were artistically arranged on the walls and ceiling, and bright red drapes framed the windows. When he looked up, the ceiling rose far above his head, making the room feel enormous. And this was just the main hall. He stared in childlike wonder at the luxurious estate. Off to his left, he heard a quiet giggle. He turned and saw a passing servant girl trying to cover her amused smile with a hand as she hurried past with a basket of clothes. Lander flushed. He was acting completely undignified. He tried to assume a more relaxed composure, but his eyes still flickered to the sides to look at the paintings that hung on the walls. How could anyone come to such a place and not be amazed at the intricacy of it all?

Eventually he was led to the dining hall. The room was long, with the door they entered from being on one of the narrower walls. A table commanded the center with a vast red carpet stretched out below it. Lander wondered if anyone else would be joining them for dinner. The table was built to seat many people. It seemed like such a waste of space if only three of them used it.

A memory stirred in the back of Lander's mind. He remembered the days before the curfew was implemented, when the villagers would gather together in someone’s house and everyone would eat dinner together. The hosting family would never have enough food to serve them all, so each guest always brought a contribution for the meal with him or her. There were also never enough seats at the table, so many of the villagers would sit on the floor or lean against the walls. Children would run around between them, skipping over legs and feet. Adults would drink ale and share stories with one another. Lander felt a pang of longing for those social gatherings. It was just another thing the new laws stole from his village.

“Please have a seat,” the king’s advisor said, gesturing to a chair at the long table. “The king will be here shortly.”

Lander nodded and sat in the indicated chair. The seat was cushioned and soft; nothing like the hard, wooden stools he used in the village. It was a minor improvement, but it still demonstrated the stark contrast between the lives of the royals and the peasants. He watched the advisor pull out a chair for the princess. It seemed like she didn’t have to do any manual labor whatsoever. [i]Spoiled[/i]. The word flashed through his mind, unprompted, as he observed the scene, but he said nothing as he sat waiting for the king to join them. Besides, he doubted the princess would take kindly to any attempt he made at conversation anyhow.