Bentley took a deep breath as he waited for his opponent. The moonlight illuminated the field softly, casting an almost ethereal glow on the long grass and various wildflowers. His hand rested on the handle of his sword, the blade resting in a well-loved sheath that hadn’t been used in ages. Bentley’s family hadn’t had a knight in the lineage for decades, so why would they bother maintaining the dull blade and shabby sheath when the time and money put towards that could be spent on sustaining crops?

There was a young lady in the village named Elena that was the target of Bentley and a stranger’s affection. She was a merchant’s daughter, so it was a bit of a step up for Bentley. That was the main reason for his courtship attempts, but it wasn’t like he didn’t find her attractive. Bentley knew that she was conventionally pretty and didn’t think he would be objected to marrying her in the future, but he just didn’t feel strong flutters in his heart or tsunamis of affection in his stomach when he saw her.

The only thing Bentley knew about his rival’s identity was their name. He went by Piers, and Bentley imagined a prim man who didn’t have to do strenuous labor to make a living when he heard the name. Piers was probably from a merchant family, met Elena through encounters with her father, and provided a comfortable option for her family to go with if they found Bentley to be too large of a risk.

Piers and Bentley had set up the duel through mutual friends, which allowed them to have never met prior to tonight. Bentley looked around the field, wondering if his opponent would ever arrive.

Suddenly, a figure from the village began moving closer to the open meadow. They went from a silhouette to a defined person as they drew near, and Bentley’s breath caught in his throat as he saw Piers for the first time.

His hair looked like a dark chestnut color and just barely brushed his shoulders, swaying ever so softly as he walked. He had defined features, each of them catching the moonlight differently to display the topography of his face. He wore a simple outfit for a merchant, and his sword sheath was attached to where it looked like his purse would usually be.

Bentley blinked a few times before realizing what was going on. He shook his head slightly and tried to regain some of his composure.

Piers extended his hand to Bentley to shake as he came to a stop.

“I’m assuming you’re Bentley?” His voice rested at a mid-level pitch as he delivered his question.

Bentley nodded quickly. “You must be Piers” he swallowed a bit as he shook Piers’ hand quickly before releasing his grip and darting his eyes to something else.

Piers’ face rested in a neutral mood, the corners of his mouth refusing to tweak up or down.

“May the best man win.” That mid-toned voice left his lips again, floating gently through Bentley’s ears even though the words held the tone and weight of a glacier.

Bentley nodded quickly again, not even finding himself able to respond. He felt a swarm of butterflies swirling around his stomach, fluttering around as they had never before, not even when he was around Elena. Next thing Bentley knew, Piers’ sword was drawn, prompting Bentley to do the same.

The moonlight gleamed softly off of the blades, reflecting onto each of their faces. Pier’s facial features were slightly visible now. His nose hooked a bit and cast a soft shadow across his face. His cheekbones rested at a high point on his face, catching the moonlight from the blade. His eyes looked like a hazel tone, with amber flecks new the pupil and more muted greens near the edge of the iris.

Piers’ face was filled with cold determination as he stepped into a ready stance. His blade had few nicks along both sides, contrasting with Bentley’s damaged and unsightly blade. Bentley tried to focus, but he couldn’t stop wondering what it would be like to hold those hands wrapped around the well-maintained sword handle, to gaze lovingly into those hazel eyes and see the same kind of emotion reciprocated, to run his fingers through that chestnut hair, to run away with this boy and live a life away from the prying eyes of the village full of love and happiness.

Bentley was shaken out of his daydream when he saw a blade swinging toward him, signaling the beginning of the duel. He clumsily lifted his blade up, just nearly blocking the blow. Piers pulled his blade back, placing one foot back to root himself more firmly.

Bentley tried to swing at Piers, the blade just barely missing its target and leaving Bentley wide open and exposed. Piers took the opportunity, his sword acting as an extension of his arm as they both jutted forward. Bentley tripped in the process of avoiding the blade, gulping as he realized his odds.

The sound of clanging swords echoed through the air as the duel continued. Bentley struggled to keep up as Piers wove his way through, performing very well for a merchant. The question of if Piers had ever gotten formal training ran through his mind quickly before disappearing as the skilled blade swung down again.

Bentley had ended up losing the duel, mainly due to his lack of skill and overwhelming distraction. As days turned into weeks and weeks into months, he would see Elena and Piers walking around the town together, happily chatting and going about the day’s activities. Bentley often gazed longingly at Piers, wondering what it would be like to entwine his fingers with Piers’, to chat and laugh while walking through the market, to share a home. Sometimes, he could have sworn he saw Piers gazing back, but he shrugged it off as nothing huge.

Bentley ended up finding a wife and living contently, but not as happy as he could have. Every so often, he wondered what life could have been like if he could have run away with the boy from the duel.