The Prince of Leincrad paced about in his tent, the wooden platform that made up the floor below creaking a bit under every step. He made a mental note to order one of the servants to fetch a carpet for it later. For now though, Aidan had more important matters to concern himself with. He stopped pacing for a moment to slightly lift the edge of the tent flap aside, peeking outside. Encircling fences, lists and targets had all been properly set up for the coming tourney. Soon the knights would be arriving, with one of them due to be Aidan's protector for a long time to come.

[i]"Such rubbish."[/i] he thought to himself. [i]"If father is so concerned, he should let me travel with one of our finest royal guards. Sir Reynard or Balor Stonearm. Not some...pup of a knight picked out from the best of a litter."[/i]

Aidan sighed. He wondered if having a bodyguard would even be necessary if he was half as strong as his father was at this age. He shook away the thought. There was no point in moping over what could be now, only looking to make the best out of what he had.

[i]"I just hope that what I have isn't a rabble of green men who were only recently elevated from squirehood."[/i]

The sound of hooves was soon picked up by the Prince's ears. It seemed the knights had arrived. He took a moment to adjust himself in the mirror, making sure he looked as refined and handsome as the heir to Leincrad ought to be. The hooves became thunderous as he exited his tent. He stepped towards the edge of the platform that overlooked the tourney field, with a small yet suitably regal-looking throne at the end. He sat down, looking over the assembled knights with his best forced smile as members of the royal court gathered around him.

"Greetings, knights of the realm! I, Prince Aidan Leinster, welcome you to the principal tourney. You have come this day to show your crown prince the valour, strength and honor that the finest young sirs of Leincard possess. I hope to not be disappointed!"

Aidan turned to one of the nearby magisters and nodded. The magister in turn raised his hand, ready to signal the musicians to blow their cornetts.

"Without further ado, let the tournament commence! May the best man win!"

And with that, the cornetts roared across the field, signaling the official start of the knightly tournament.