Unique Points of View

Pharon fought blindly, wildly even. His sword flashed hard and fast as if somehow he could cut his father's intentions to pieces.

Why that cow? Kylara's grotesque visage appeared before Pharon's even.

With a yell he slammed his sword down in an overhead cut. His sparring partner screamed as his collarbone broke with the force of the blow.

Pharon blinked, coming back to the present. Guilt flashed across his face as he saw his kneeling opponent clutching at his broken bone. He'd kill someone at this rate.

Throwing his sword aside, he stormed off. Maybe the Archivist could speak to his father on his behalf. It was worth a shot.

Pharon used to spend a great deal of time with the Archivist. He greatly looked up to the elder dragon, but as time passed he had spent less and less time with him in his Rare Books Room. Whenever he'd said he wanted to go see him, Pharon's mother would always invite him to do something with her instead. She had been alarmed by her son's intimacy with such an odd, unusual male and had hoped to prevent Pharon from following in his footsteps. Pharon could not resist such tacitly expressed displeasure and so a long time had passed since he'd spent considerable time with the Archivist.

However, his feet knew the way to the Rare Books Room well, and soon they'd carried him right up to the Archivist's desk.

"Youngling, how good to see you." The Archivist greeted him warmly. "It has been a while since you last sought my company."

Pharon smiled bashfully, "Yes, Sir. I- I would have visited sooner but-" He trailed off as his cheeks colored.

The Archivist smiled in amusement, "Yes, I am aware of your mother's feelings towards me and my chosen path. What brings you here? I assume she is unaware of your visit."

Pharon grimaced. When he was younger, the Archivist would have invited him to tea and then they would have discussed the stories from the Age of Magic. They'd spent many afternoons in heated debates over which hero's deeds were the greatest. Being treated so coolly now, felt like a sting to Pharon and he was saddened by it.

"I am sorry to ask for your help out of the blue like this, but I was hoping you'd speak to my father on my behalf. He is making me claim a repulsive and horrid female, all for the sake of her system." The Archivist's face clouded.

He watched Pharon in silence for a long moment, then said, "You disappoint me, Youngling." Pharon paled as he felt another stab of pain. It hurt to know he had disappointed this male who he respected so much. "I know the female you are speaking of and I like her quite a lot. She is my frequent guest here."

Pharon blinked and opened his mouth to speak. The Archivist cut him off, "I thought you would appreciate such an unusual female."

"What is there to appreciate about a rude, improper, ugly Cow?" Pharon snapped.

The Archivist sighed heavily, "She is only those things to you because you are refusing to see past your own expectations for her."

"My expectations?" Pharon repeated.

"Yes, you expect all females to be demure, subservient creatures who's only thoughts are of being claimed. You have never experienced other females, so you cannot recognize a female of worth." The Archivist explained calmly.

"You're saying it's my fault she's rude?" Pharon asked, his hands clenching into fists at his side. "She has you fooled, Sir. She is just pretending to be different to gain attention."

The Archivist smiled sadly, "I can assure you that is not the case, Youngling."

"You are wrong!" Pharon snarled, "Females of worth, like Azella Firesword, don't exist. They died with the last age of magic. That Cow only wants a mate. If I were to go to her tomorrow, she'd accept me in a second!"

The Archivist snorted, "Then let us make a deal, Youngling. You will go to her tomorrow and offer to claim her, if she says 'yes', I will speak to your father on your behalf. If she refuses you, which I believe she will, you will come here every day and spend two hours studying under my instruction." The Archivist smiled warmly.

"Can you convince him to give her to someone else?" Pharon asked.

The Archivist nodded, "Of course."

Pharon smiled, "Then I accept."

"Good. I will have the books ready when you return tomorrow." The Archivist said calmly. Pharon growled and stormed away.

***

After I returned to my rooms and changed, I immediately sought out Prince Pharon. One of the servants directed me to the training courts, but when I arrived, I only saw Prince Pharon's aftermath.

I did also see Prince Blaize leaning on one of the wooden fences speaking to Lady Brook and Lord Glade.

I approached them slowly and the faces of everyone in the group changed. Lord Glade smiled queasily, while Lady Brook stiffened in anger. Prince Blaize's face darkened and he said something to Lord Glade. Lord Glade nodded as Prince Blaize walked to the center of the training court.

I paused and watched the prince stretch with disappointment. I had wanted to ask him where Prince Pharon had gone.

"Miss Adamare," Lord Glade's smooth voice called. I smiled politely and joined him and his sister.

"Lord Glade, Lady Brook, I hope you are both well." I said coolly. Lady Brook simply sniffed and turned away. I lifted my eyebrow at Lord Glade.

His smile became a little strained, "I am very well, thank you. I am just about to spare with Blaize. I hope you will cheer for me."

I frowned, "My Lord, there is no need for you to force yourself with me. I had hoped with the offer I made your father yesterday, we could become friends." Lord Glade's eyes widened in surprise. I nodded. "I see you haven't heard of it yet. Your father must not have thought it sufficient-"

"Miss Adamare, I am surprised but only by how you thought that offer could improve our relations." Lord Glade said, "Did it cross your mind that it might be construed as rude, you bribing me not to claim you?" His handsome face became a little darker. "I have to go train. Please watch and afterward we can have tea." He said before walking off.

I blinked as I saw his white-knuckled grip on his sword. He stretched for a few minutes, then drew his blade. He and Prince Blaize began to fight.

Lord Glade was quite skilled and held his own admirably. His speed and agility made up for his comparative lack of strength. Dragons were among the strongest of all the races, while elves were one of the fastest.

The fight was entertaining and I was absorbed in watching, when Lady Brook turned to me. She said, "Did you really not think your offer would be seen as insulting?" Her voice was chilly.

"No. I would have if Lord Glade wanted to claim me but he clearly has no desire to do so. When I heard of his situation, I realized that this was a pecuniary mating and decided to simplify the situation. If he accepts my offer, your brother can claim who he likes. Isn't that what he wants?" I explained. Lady Brook let out a small, short breath as if deflating. I turned to watch the fight again.

Lord Glade had switched his sword hand as his right arm appeared injured now. However, Prince Blaize had numerous small gashes restricting his movement. If Lord Glade was as skilled with his left hand as he was with his right, he'd win. The differences in their speeds was now too great.

Within two minutes, Prince Blaize had surrendered. The healers rushed onto the court and fixed both combatants.

After his healing, Lord Glade walked over to me with a smile.

"Congratulations, my Lord, your reputation does not disappoint." I said as I was supposed to. Inside, however, I was burning with the desire to fight him myself.

Lord Glade thanked me and we headed into the gardens for our tea. I did not forget that I still had to speak to Prince Pharon. I sent a note to his rooms asking him to speak with me after dinner. Then, I turned my attention to Lord Glade and our tea.

"Lord Glade," I said interrupting him. He'd been talking about taking me shopping again. "I am not interested in shopping for jewelry or dresses." Lord Glade's expression soured. "As I told Lady Brook, I made you that offer because I know you do not like me and I don't want you to claim me. If you accept my offer, you can claim whoever you like. It was not meant as an insult."

Lord Glade's face stiffened, "Lady Adamare, I am trying, because my father wishes me to, to get to know you. He believes that you are the worthiest female here and he is an intelligent male." He gritted his teeth as I grimaced.

"If you want to get to know me, my Lord, then the first thing you need to realize is that I have no desire or need for a mate. I want more than that and if you keep treating me like I live to dress up and impress males, then I'm going to get angry." I snapped. I was beginning to feel irritated. I thought my offer would have fixed this. He could claim anyone he wanted so why was he still trying to make me go dress shopping?

"Well, how do you want me to treat you?" Lord Glade asked coldly.

I sighed heavily, "Treat me as you would a male." Lord Glade snorted. "I'm serious!" I said with flashing eyes and lowered brows.

Lord Glade's expression turned grave, "You do realize that you're not a male, right?"

"My only other option is being treated as a frivolous, thoughtless female, which I'm not. I won't tolerate that. Since you want to spend time with me, just pretend I'm a male that dresses oddly." I smiled at him through my anger. "I believe that will be easier for you than trying to think that I am an opinionated, educated female."

Lord Glade stared at me in silence for a long moment as his jaw worked. At last he nodded stiffly.

I let out a breath and let my anger go with it. I then brought up a subject that I would like, battle strategies. Lord Glade was resistant at first but slowly became interested in the conversation. In the end we spent forty minutes talking before I realized how long it'd been.

I excused myself, and left him there as I saw Lady Brook approaching. I nodded to her before heading to my rooms.