As usual, Manfred awoke earlier than most. With his guest room bereft of any furnishings besides a bed and an empty desk, he found himself with little to do inside besides quiet meditation. Which he did for about an hour. But eventually, he found himself depleted of thoughts to think without giving his brain fresh fuel. So after loosening his body up with a stretch, Manfred put his boots on and headed out.

The castle's corridors were still rather quiet when he emerged, most of the activity being servants attempting to get a jump-start on their master's service to minimize the work required of them later. Others were guards who used the quiet time to exercise in the courtyard. Manfred also spotted a court jester sitting on a stone ledge and reading a book.

Manfred decided to head to the hall for the Knights of the King's Table a few paces south of the castle. After all, if he was to be among their number, he would do well to acquaint himself with their membership and values. About halfway there, doubts surfaced in his mind over the likelihood of any of the knights being awake at this hour, but he continued on anyway. Worst case scenario, he'd sit around and wait a while.

After pushing open a humble wooden door, Manfred found himself inside the knight's hall. He took in his surroundings with a slow nod. The place struck him as a bare-boned version of the castle, matching in architectural style and materials, but lacking the decorations. It possessed a charming simplicity Manfred couldn't help but appreciate.

Manfred passed down a hallway lined on one side with latticed windows, through which filtered the rays of the rising sun. From there, he ascended a short flight of steps, and on the landing, he encountered a man with a purple sash across his shoulder and a sheathed sword on his hip. The man brushed back a lock of blond hair from his face and gave Manfred a curious smile.

"Good morning there, young one." the man greeted as his eyes travelled down to Manfred's own longsword in its scabbard, "What brings you here?"

Manfred felt his body tense. "I'm...I came to explore, I guess. I'll be a knight myself soon. So I guess I wanted to scope things out."

"Ah, I see. Well, explore freely. Just don't interrupt or destroy anything."

"I'll try." Manfred replied with a nervous chuckle. Then he tilted his head. "By any chance...you know where Sir Holt is?"

The man stopped right where he stood, one foot on the landing still and the other rested on the first step. "Alden should be in the dining hall. You'll go left at the next intersection and then into the last room on the left before the stairs."

Manfred's lips twitched into a brief smile. "Thank you, sir."

"My pleasure. Have a good day."

With that, the two parted, and Manfred made his way to the dining hall. A handsome chamber with wooden walls and filled with tables and chairs, with an open hatch in the top to allow light in during the daytime, Manfred truly wouldn't mind eating there himself.

All the tables were vacant except one, and that was occupied by Alden Holt. The old man stooped over a steaming bowl of porridge, his thick staff leaning against an adjacent seat and his countenance somber. He slurped each spoonful with a joyless attitude.

Alden didn't appear to have heard Manfred's entrance. And as the young man stood off to his left, the same side as the old man's blind eye, he had no visual cue of his arrival either. Manfred stepped around into Alden's view with exaggerated footsteps so as not to startle him.

The old man's cycloptic gaze snapped to Manfred once he heard him, and his head jerked up a moment later to follow. A cold, silent stare followed as the young swordsman finished approaching Alden's table.

"You...mind if I sit here?"

Alden shrugged, but then he winced as if the gesture had strained his aging muscles. "You may very well seat yourself. What brings you here?"

"Well," Manfred began as he pulled a chair out opposite Alden, "I'm supposed to become a knight soon, and I guess I wanted to test the waters in a way. Just get a look at what I'm jumping into."

The elderly knight tilted his head in confusion. "I do not remember assigning you a trial, and neither do I recall you reporting back about its success. In fact, I do not remember seeing your face at all."

"Oh, really? Well, you saw me just a couple nights ago...with Princess Kate. Me and Sir Juan's son Andre helped her escape the emperor. Of Innutuk."

Realization flashed across Alden's intact right eye, and he nodded. "Oh yes, that is correct. I had nearly forgotten you two. I was supposed to arrange initiation ceremonies, was I not?"

"You were."

"Perhaps this time I shall remember. At any rate, you expressed a desire to get a look at what you are jumping into. What in the world do you mean by that?"

Manfred rubbed a finger across his well-defined chin. "Not exactly sure how to be specific, but just wanted to talk about knighthood with someone who knows a lot. I figured you know more than most."

"I suppose that would be true. Where should you like to begin?"

"Well...what're some traits you believe every knight should have?"

"Now that is an insightful question." Alden muttered with some semblance of pleasure before noisily slurping down another spoonful of his porridge, "In my view, the knightly trait of most import is loyalty, and that in every arena of life. Loyalty to God, loyalty to the crown, loyalty to one's comrades, and loyalty to one's countrymen."

"What about loyalty to a man's family?"

"Yes, yes, one could include that as well." Alden's wrinkled, scarred face scrunched up even more as he visibly mulled over new thoughts. "From that loyalty should spawn obedience where it is due. If a man truly love the Lord, then he shall obey his commands. The same could be said of a knight's relation to the crown, and even to his superiors in the knightly order."

Manfred nodded slowly. "Is there a sort of hierarchy among you? Or is it just the High Council at the top and everybody else below?"

"Precisely the latter, young man. The ten men given the honor of dining with his majesty King Maxwell himself once a week thereby receive a certain insight that empowers them to make wise decisions for all their fellow knights. For this reason, all knightly activity is subject to their review and revisement."

"I see. So, loyalty and obedience. Anything else?"

"I could list for hours what an ideal knight should be, young man, and in reality, all I would be accomplishing is describing to you what a godly Christian man is already. Knights should be perseverant, compassionate, faithful, temperate, and many other such things, but for me to list them all would be redundant, as you well know those things are what all men should be."

Manfred narrowed his eyes as he thought over Alden's words. Then he folded his hands in his lap and gave a brief smile. "Thanks. That's really insightful. I also want to ask: What's something you see many knights failing at in this day? A common fault?"

"By far, that would be the excessive readiness to draw the sword. Far too many men within these very walls would unsheathe their blade at the smallest slight. Too often, they prefer to resolve matters with cutting strokes rather than cutting words."

"That's...not good. I can promise you I won't be that way."

Alden nodded. "I would certainly hope so. It grieves me greatly that some men have died on account of a dispute that could easily have been settled in the verbal realm."

"Same here." Manfred mumbled thoughtfully. His mind immediately leapt to the story Kate had told him of Sir Dustin Alder and his brother. Was Alden referring to that? After all, he was certainly old enough to have been a contemporary. He may have very well seen those events transpire firsthand.

"Alright, young man," Alden grumbled, "will that be all?"

"I actually had one more question." Manfred replied, though in reality, his mind still raced for what the question might be. "As you said, a sword shouldn't be drawn too quickly. But when is the right time to engage in that way?"

"In my view, the only fight worth fighting is a defensive one. A sword may righteously be drawn to protect one's own life or that of one's comrade. Especially should it be brought to bear in the defense of any figure entrusted to a knight's protection. In most other situations, however, it is gratuitous violence, quite possibly resulting in condemnable murder."

Manfred slowly rose from his seat, and he bowed slightly upon fully rising. "Thanks for your time, Sir Holt. This has been really informative."

"You are welcome. If—wait just a second, young man." Alden's one-eyed gaze drifted to a spot behind Manfred. "What is it, Juan?"

Manfred spun on his heel and saw Sir Juan Feliz strolling up to the table with his hands folded behind his back. A small smile perched on his lips, but one that appeared it was veiling some inner conflict. He gave Manfred the briefest of nods before focusing on Alden.

"I have a serious matter to discuss with you, Alden." Juan declared before glancing back at Manfred, "If you would please excuse us, this is a private matter."

"Oh yeah, of course." Manfred briskly shuffled away from the two.

"Do not leave quite yet." Alden muttered with a grunt. He rose to his feet and promptly leaned on his staff. After urging Juan to wait with a motion of his hand, the old knight stepped toward Manfred. "I perceive a refreshing humility in you, young man, and accompanying it, a wonderfully teachable attitude. Verily, I see much potential in you. If you will only apply the things I spoke of, you will be well on your way to being a knight of utmost moral excellence. You may very well become the sort of man history loves to speak of for centuries to come."

"That's...really encouraging, sir. Thank you. Have a good day."

"Likewise."

Manfred strolled out of the room in no particular hurry, as he had no certain destination. Once he'd reached about halfway to the door, he heard Juan's voice commence speaking in a hushed tone. Manfred was no eavesdropper, but he couldn't help but overhear.

"Do you not find it downright shameful that our on-and-off conflict with the Innutukian Empire has continued for so long, yet with no conclusion?" Juan asked, "Does it irk you as it does me, that we have achieved no lasting victory of any importance over them, only held them at bay at our best?"

"The ongoing nature of the conflict concerns me greatly, yes." Alden answered slowly, "But our results worry me not, for what is the end goal we desire? It is my belief that a defensive fight is the only kind worth fighting, and that is what we have done thus far."

Juan snorted. "Much good a defensive fight will do in bringing Innutuk to its knees."

"I never considered that to be the goal, Juan. So long as Monterayne's borders are secure, its people are safe, and her casualties are minimized abroad, I shall be content."

"We could accomplish all that and more, and that without prolonged strain on our resources, if we would but deal Innutuk a fatal blow. We could end the matter for good!"

Alden made some sort of grunting sound. "You sound just like an Innutukian yourself; that's just the sort of tactic they would use. How are we any better than them if we act just the same?"

"I thought you would say something like that. You always do. Your sanctimonious ways and lust for dysfunctional peace fail to be a help to Monterayne in her war effort. In fact, you are keeping at a standstill!" Juan sighed dramatically. "I have seen the solution to this predicament for a long time. My only regret is that I had not the boldness to implement it until now."

"What do you—"

Manfred had just cleared the doorway and stepped into the adjacent hallway when he heard the ring of a sword leaving its scabbard, and then Alden's words choked off before they could fully leave his mouth. Manfred's breath caught in his throat as he spun on his heel and peeked into the room again. At the sight of Juan removing a bloody saber blade from Alden's chest and wiping it off on the old man's shoulder before dropping him, Manfred's chest tightened. Then Juan glanced toward the door and spotted the young man's head peeking around.

Despite the panic and shock coursing through his body, Manfred took a few bold steps into the room with his hand on his own sword's hilt. By some miracle, he maintained strong eye contact with Juan as he came closer.

"You have seen and heard nothing." Juan said, "I will allow you to leave this room unscathed if you will only say nothing of what you have seen here."

"You just murdered Sir Alden Holt." Manfred replied in a level tone, "I can't be silent about that."

"Trust me, young man, Monterayne shall shortly reap the benefits of this rather necessary culling. His voice in opposition to mine has long divided the knightly order and rendered it ineffective. Too much debate and too little action. Well, I have just cut their bonds free. I have liberated Monterayne from his notions of impractical peace."

Manfred didn't fail to notice how Juan had slowly circled him until he stood as obstacle to the door. "I don't care how you try to reason it over, sir. Murder is murder. You're coming with me."

"I'm coming with you where exactly?" Juan asked with a smirk perched on his lips.

"I think the king deserves to know that his chief advisor is a traitor and a killer."

Juan chuckled heartily. "You fail to understand how this game is played, young man. I fear nothing King Maxwell can do to me, for I have not stowed all my eggs away in one basket."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Why, I serve Monterayne's king, but equally so, I serve Innutuk's emperor. It was I who trained up the unmarked swordsman years ago to increase the Empire's effectiveness in the war against Alconte. And I have garnered influence in the knightly order to render its members inept, forever caught in endless debates and discussions rather than busying themselves in useful action. It matters little to me who wins in Monterayne and Innutuk's endless conflicts, for either way, I thrive."

Manfred swallowed with some difficulty. "There's none of the fear of God in you! You're terrible...a man of treachery!"

"I'm no traitor. I'm merely adaptable."

A sudden shout erupted from Juan's lips, sending a surprised shock coursing down Manfred's spine and freezing him in place. Juan's curved saber blade became an invisible blur as he lunged forward and swung at Manfred's chest.