Chapter 19

"That is but an excuse. You have wanted Ellycyn all along. All this time you have pretended to be my friend, my brother. You have only stayed close to me in order to stay close to her." Mharkhel's eyes went distant as they did the night before. He spat in the blonde knight's face and strengthened his grip on his throat.

Setryv's face was becoming a deep red and sweat and spittle ran freely down his face. "Mharkhel," he managed to croak.

Mharkhel was fighting an inner battle as much as he was Setryv. He desperately wanted to choke the life out of the unknown person before him, but something was stopping him. Recognition registered in his mind and he realized where he was and who he was with. Mharkhel eased his grip a fraction. "What can you say to me? What lie do you have the courage to tell me? Tell me I am wrong Setryv. Tell me you do not love her."

The blue in Setryv's eyes turned to steel. "I love her, it is true. But I love her more than you. Because I have waited for years. Waiting for you to respond to her. Waiting for you to acknowledge her feelings. And all you have done is make her suffer humiliation by her waiting. Though she be Princess of the realm, all you can think of is Mharkhel. And do not forget that I encouraged you all the while. I have not intruded upon you and I have not interfered. In the end, she asked me."

The truth of the words incensed Mharkhel and he again felt himself slipping away. But he flung Setryv from him before it overtook him. The blonde knight landed heavily on the stone floor and laid there, massaging his bruised throat. Mharkhel looked down at him and his feelings rapidly alternated between guilt and hate. "This has been but a warning," the dark knight cautioned. "Stay away from her." Mharkhel then turned and stormed off down the corridor, a man at war with everybody including himself.

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