The White Rose

Sir Robert strode through the ranks of men, his head held high, despite the disdainful looks directed his way. Confidence coursed through his veins, convinced that he could easily overpower this young woman who seemed inexperienced in the art of true dueling.

The weight of potentially losing everything weighed heavily on Sir Robert's mind. The stakes were high, and the pressure threatened to consume even the most formidable warrior. However, as he locked eyes with Lady Ysabelon, who stood poised and ready, he detected no trace of nervousness or fear. Instead, her cold gaze penetrated his being, unnerving him for a brief moment.

Doubt began to creep into Sir Robert's mind, questioning whether he had underestimated Lady Ysabelon's prowess. Yet, as the cheers of his men reverberated through the air, a wave of renewed confidence washed over him. They stood united, rallying behind him, their unwavering support echoing in his ears.