Forged Destiny [Book 9: Ch. 27]

As the procession came closer and closer, they slowly diverted to meet us, spotting and accurately surmising we were the diplomatic envoys from the city.

Black armour highlighted with gold and pale blue cloth became visible. Pennants and banners streamed behind them, the black and blue of Mistral. Adorned like knights all, they marched in a column four wide, with one man at the lead standing out by virtue of his long crimson cloak that fluttered down on either side of a white horse with long hair and a graceful tread.

His skin was pale, his smile handsome and gentle. He had piercing brown eyes that looked like chocolate and curly brown hair that fell in ringlets over his forehead. He was handsome. Incredibly so. Even I couldn't argue against that, and I was sure many a woman had felt their heart race at the sight of his smile. It was so friendly and inclusive that I found myself liking him even from a hundred metres away.

Furiously, I dashed those false sentiments aside. I gripped Crocea Mors and adjusted it at my side, the clink of metal and leather snapping the royal guard out of their own trance. Armour grated as they stood back at attention, helmeted faces focused on the floor, sky or around the handsome man, but not on him.

"The King of Mistral," Glynda remarked.

[...]

The King of Mistral motioned for his retainers to stay put and made the final few feet on his own. With a glance to Glynda, I did the same, nudging Faith forward until our horses were but a few feet apart. Each of us within striking distance. Despite that, and the fact he was unarmed but for a ceremonial dagger at his left hip, the young King smiled handsomely.

"You are Jaune Arc, the slayer of Salem." Even his voice was beautiful. Soft, lilting and musical, like chimes tinkling in the wind. I could have listened to it for hours. "We've heard of you. I am Gabriel Alansar. King of Mistral. It is an honour to meet you."

The respect surprised me. Had we been wrong? Had we judged him too quickly? Mistral had come at the end and sent an army to relieve us, and they'd stayed to help rebuild. Maybe we'd criticised them unfairly. His deep brown eyes sparkled. My hand gripped Crocea Mors tighter. I felt the flare of my eyes as Resilience forced Charisma aside. I stood taller, no longer feeling that subtle pull begging me to bend knee. He was still attractive, but in a distant way. His eyes didn't quite match the façade, I noticed. There was a hint of arrogance to them that belied the kindness. How had I not noticed that before? No matter. I released my sword and forced my hands back onto the cantle.

—Forged Destiny [Book 9: Ch. 27]