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The Widow's Game

After losing her husband, Queen Ana Sofia seeks a new king through a grand tournament. Amidst the competition, she finds unexpected love with a mysterious contestant. But as their romance blossoms, political intrigue and betrayal threaten to tear them apart. Will Ana Sofia choose love over duty, or will the demands of the kingdom force them apart?

Alia_Romano · ファンタジー
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19 Chs

Chapter 2

 He continues, "I have spent my life fighting for what I believe in, standing up for the weak and defending the innocent. I have earned my title and my wealth through my own strength and determination, not through inheritance or marriage. I am a man of action, not just words."

She sighs. She can feel his determination and resolve but, the simple fact remains she must marry into nobility. "I respect your honesty and your drive, but as a queen, I have a responsibility to my people. I must marry someone who can help strengthen the kingdom's political ties and ensure its stability. While your accomplishments are impressive, I'm not sure they align with the needs of my kingdom." She pauses, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. Her gaze once more running over the man he stood straight and unflinching.

"But, I will allow it. I have to speak to my council members about the matter, having you in the running will complicate….things" The man nods, understanding the weight of her words.

"I understand your concerns, my queen. But I assure you, my intentions are pure, and I am more than capable of providing for both you and your kingdom."

Ana Sofia looks at him for a moment longer, her heart suddenly racing. Excitement and intrigue rippled within her. She felt a strong energetic pull to him and she dare think him attractive. yet, she paused her was no longer a young girl she wasn't easily swayed by a pretty face.

"Very well, go speak to my advisor and get yourself signed up. I look forward to seeing you in the games" The noble nods, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Thank you, my queen. I will not disappoint you." He bows low, before turning to leave. Ana Sofia watches him go, her thoughts swirling with uncertainty. Nonetheless the dinner went on deep until the night, she danced and continued to meet nobles but, her mind kept racing back to the golden stranger she met As the night goes on, Ana Sofia can't help but steal glances at the noble throughout the room. She finds herself wondering about his past and what drives him to fight for what he believes in. She couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something special about him, something that set him apart from the rest.

 "Your majesty"

a voice enters her head as one of her advisors, a middle-aged man with a thin mustache and a serious expression, approaches her. He bows low before continuing,

"We must discuss the matter of the upcoming tournament. The noble you have allowed to participate, he is not of noble birth, and his addition to the competition could cause unrest among the other contestants."

"Let's leave it for tomorrow can't we ?" Ana Sofia responds, her mind still preoccupied with thoughts of the mysterious noble. The advisor, however, insists,

"But my queen, it is a matter of great importance. The tournament is a time-honored tradition, and any disruptions could lead to unrest amongst the nobles." Exasperated she agrees, leading the way to her meeting room she sees her group of advisers sat and ready, she makes herself known, "Make this quick, I am tired and don't want to Drabble about politics"

 As Ana Sofia takes her seat at the head of the table, her advisors shuffle their papers and begin to discuss the matter at hand. The middle-aged man with the thin mustache, whom she had spoken to earlier, speaks up first.

"Your Majesty," he begins, his voice steady and serious.

"As you know, the upcoming tournament is a significant event for our kingdom. It is a time when nobles from all over the land gather to compete in various challenges and displays of skill and strength."

 She stared at him urging him to continue The advisor clears his throat and continues.

"The problem lies in the fact that the noble you have allowed to participate, he is not of noble birth. His addition to the competition could cause unrest among the other contestants and potentially disrupt the entire event."

Ana Sofia scoffed as gall coated her throat,

"Don't tell me. You actually believe this man will actually win ?" The advisor hesitates for a moment, choosing his words carefully.

"It is not a matter of whether or not he will win, Your Majesty. It is a matter of upholding tradition and maintaining the peace among the nobles. If they perceive this commoner to be favored by you, it could lead to dissent and conflict."

"There will be no favorites. Advisor Mallorca do you think so little of me ?"

Ana Sofia's voice rings out, sharp and clear, as she responds to her advisor. She leans back in her chair, her eyes narrowed as she regards him.

"The tournament is meant to showcase skill and strength, not to cater to the whims of the nobility." She continued,

"Let him compete, and If any of the nobles are so bothered by a insignificant noble with a small plot of land then, they need not be a person I choose to be by my side".

The room falls silent as Ana Sofia's words hang in the air. Her advisors exchange uncertain glances, unsure of how to respond to their queen's unorthodox decision. But Ana Sofia remains resolute, her gaze fixed on her advisors as she waits for a response. The advisors, realizing that the queen has made her decision, quickly gather their papers and begin to disperse. As they leave the room, Mallorca, the middle-aged advisor with the thin mustache, approaches Ana Sofia. He bows low before speaking,

"As you wish, my queen."

"Wait." Ana Sofia interrupts, her voice softening as she looks at Mallorca.

"I know you are concerned about the peace in our kingdom, and I appreciate your dedication. But I must insist on this matter. It is important to me that we do not discriminate based on social status. After all, we are all human beings, are we not?"

 Mallorca straightens up, meeting Ana Sofia's gaze. He nods slowly, his face etched with concern.

"Of course, Your Majesty. I understand your point of view, and I will do my best to ensure that the tournament runs smoothly."

Ana Sofia smiles, a small but genuine expression of gratitude.

"This is why you're my favorite. Oh, and by the way what is his name and claim ?"

 Mallorca's face relaxes into a small smile at the queen's compliment.

"The commoner's name is Wesleynard Sir of House Stonemore. He is a skilled knight who hails from a small plot of land in the southern region of our kingdom."

Ana Sofia nods, committing the name to memory.

"Wesleynard of House Stonemore. I will remember that."

She leans back in her chair, her mind already turning to the upcoming tournament and the potential challenges it may bring.

"I trust you will keep me informed of any developments, Advisor Mallorca?"

 Mallorca bows once more before taking his leave, his footsteps echoing softly in the emptying room. As the last of the advisors file out, the weight of Ana Sofia's decision settles heavily upon her. She closes her eyes remembering his appearance Wesleynard, a strong and sturdy name, fitting for the knight who has captured Ana Sofia's attention. She pictures him in her mind, his broad shoulders and piercing blue eyes, his hair the color of golden wheat. For a second she feels herself slipping into a blissful state of mind before chides herself.

"No. We won't be falling in love. It is impossible"

The next morning the first tournament game begins. As the sun rises over the castle walls, the courtyard bustles with activity. Knights in shining armor and squires in simple tunics move about, preparing for the day's tournament. Ana Sofia rises from bed and quickly dresses, her mind is buzzing with anticipation todays test would be about strength Indeed, the courtyard is a flurry of activity as the tournament procession soon begins. Knights of higher social standings, including Wesleynard of House Stonemore, gather in the center of the courtyard, their armor glinting in the morning sunlight. She steps into the light to greet them,

"Good morning, Sirs"

The knights bow their heads in unison, their armor clanking softly. Ana Sofia's gaze lingers on Wesleynard for a moment, taking in his strong stance and determined expression. She clears her throat, regaining her composure.

"Today's test will be about strength." she began.

"You will battle each other in rounds there will be only fifteen remaining spots, to continue in the tournament there will be a grand winner based on amount of defeats and points accrued. I will be watching from the podium. Good luck". 

The knights nod, readying themselves for the competition ahead. As they pair off and begin to ready themselves for fight, Ana Sofia takes her place on the podium, her eyes scanning the crowd for Wesleynard. She spots him easily, his broad shoulders and powerful build making him stand out among the others. His golden hair shone brightly against his silver armor his knights crest in full display. She is curious to see the level of his skill as the announcer signals the beginning of the battle she bore her eyes into Wesleynard. 

 She found herself glaring at him as he easily overpowered his opponents with ease, a flicker of concern crossing her face. She could not deny the expertise of his skill and strength. She watched his every move calculated. Cold. Precise. She could almost smell the bloodlust he carried in his stance which cultivated a desire of wanting to see him win but, she cannot allow herself to be drawn to him. She is the queen, and she must remain impartial. She glanced to the side observing a few ladies in waiting giggling, as they watch wesleynard fight, their admiration for the strong knight clear on their faces. Ana Sofia narrows her eyes, feeling a surge of irritation. She rolled her eyes such idiotic women lusting over a man that only had brawn to show his greatest strength. The tournament continues, with Wesleynard effortlessly defeating opponent after opponent. Ana Sofia watches from her podium, her emotions a tumultuous sea of admiration, concern, and resentment. She disliked knowing she was wrong about him but, the tournament was just beginning he had a lot more to prove before she would give him praise.

 As the tournament enters its final rounds. The crowd is buzzing with excitement as they cheer Wesleynard on. Their cheers seem to reinvigorate him, and Ana Sophia watches as his chest rises and falls from almost using all his enegy. his golden hair coming undone from its braid. Ana Sofia studieds intently from her podium, her heart pounding in her chest as Wesleynard faces off against his final opponent. The two knights circle each other, their armor glinting in the sunlight, before charging at each other with a clash of steel. Wesleynard's sword strikes true, and his opponent falls to the ground. The crowd erupts in cheers, and Ana Sofia can't help but feel a sense of pride swell within her. She takes a deep breath, composing herself before descending from the podium to congratulate the victorious knight.

 As she approaches she can feel his bloodlust simmering beneath the surface, of his armor and she hesitates for a moment. But then she steeled herself, knowing that she must uphold her position as queen. She extends her hand to Wesleynard, who takes it firmly in his own. his eyes flash up to her softening as he regards his queen.

"Well fought, Sir Wesleynard,"

she says, her voice steady and regal. Wesleynard, still panting from the exertion of the fight, looks at Ana Sofia with a mixture of surprise and admiration. His eyes search hers for a moment, as if trying to gauge her true feelings. But all he sees is the strong, resolute queen that she has always presented herself to be. He kneels to her feet as the crowd roars in cheers. The announcer is detailing his victory. Ana Sofia watches as he kneels to her feet. She trembles slightly as she reaches out to him. The power she had over this powerful man almost made her head spin. His scent and cold energy almost overtook her composure. He takes her hand and gently kisses the back, his eyes flicker to hers. Her ears pounding as she feels warmth spreading across her hand. She finds she can't tear her gaze from him. He smirks,

"Did you like my performance? My queen?".