I am your king.

Chapter IV | Part III

"Darling, you look like the plague itself," Rachel kicked open the door and crossed her arms. "Come along now, it's time to get up." 

"Leave me alone," Adrian hid under the blankets.

"Absolutely not. You're still my husband and you have plenty of terrible rumors running around as it is. I'd rather not throw any more into the mix." Rachel went over to the bed and threw off the blanket. "You look positively terrible, come on, get up," she clapped her hands. Adrian groaned and sat up. 

"You won't leave me alone will you?" 

"Nope." 

"How dreadful." 

"Yep." 

"It's only been a day but it feels like years have passed." 

"You have work to do and no time to complain. Please don't disappoint me," Rachel pushed Adrian off of the bed so he'd have to stand. He did stand, regretfully, and started getting into some fresh clothes. 

"You know, you are rather handsome," Rachel confessed.  

"Don't get any ideas, woman, I'm not interested in you at all." 

"Harsh, but I didn't mean you were my type. I just called you handsome don't get ahead of yourself." 

"What is there to be done?" 

"Well, I'd say a bath but it looks like you're still insisting you'll never take care of yourself again." 

"I'll take a bath with Vincent when he returns." 

"If he returns." 

"It's only been one day." 

"You said so yourself that it felt like years," Rachel shrugged. "I miss him already." Adrian glared, but he was always glaring now that Vincent was nowhere to be seen. 

"Come along, we have people to talk to and problems to solve," she grabbed Adrian's arm and led him away. He rolled his eyes.

...

"I can't believe he was stupid enough to send you alone," Claudia snickered, sitting on the remains of a tree. It looked like a menacing throne. She was in men's attire, because who cares about dresses in the wilderness. "But, I am pleased that you're here finally. I've missed you so much." 

"Please refrain from the pleasantries," Vincent replied. "I have no intention of doing whatever it is you're planning on asking." 

"Oh?" 

"Quite so." 

"Then what are you here for?" 

"I'm here to overthrow you," Vincent smiled. She laughed in response. 

"You can't be serious. I'm the one that taught you everything you know." 

"And?" 

"And, you can't win against me in a duel." 

"So you think, but you are getting up there in years, mother dearest." 

"How dare you! I'm still quite young!" she frowned. 

"Let's see the truth of that, shall we?" 

"I know what you're doing and I won't fall for it." 

"Is that so?" Vincent shrugged. "I'm still fighting you either way." 

"You can't fight me if I don't accept the challenge." 

"Oh? Do you hear that?" Vincent spoke up for the Phantoms hiding in the trees. "You honorable queen here is too scared to fight me. Are you sure she is up to the task of leading you?" 

"Tsk," Claudia stood up. "I wish we could've done this in a more civilized matter. Why couldn't you have just agreed to lie down and die for me? I didn't want to put forth an effort for someone so trivial." 

"This trivial someone is about to take your head, mother dearest," he grinned. 

"Shall we begin?" 

"On the count of three, as per the rules," Vincent nodded. 

"One." 

"Two." 

The movements of professional Phantoms are always too fast for the eyes to follow. Even fellow  Phantoms have a hard time keeping up with it. But the proof of the movements are always there. Imprints in the dirt or a rustle of the leaves on the ground. A branch that has fallen or a tree that decided to give out. All that Vincent had going for him was that he was younger and had far more stamina than his mother. If he could last long enough without making so much as the tiniest of mistakes, he could survive and very well win. 

"Shit," he muttered as the knife grazed his face. He'd done nothing but dodge and it was time to start fighting back. Of course, he didn't bring any weapons so he grabbed his mother's hand and pulled the knife out of her grasp. She retaliated by grabbing another knife from on her person and attempting to stab him. Now that they were visible once again to the crowd, Vincent jumped a foot or so back. 

The mother and son walked in a circle, each analyzing the other's movements and making plans. Vincent had a reaction for each one of her actions, should she choose to attack. She created more actions and he created more reactions. Once break time was over, the fight resumed as each of their plots played out. 

Vincent's only regret in life was that he hadn't taken the time to play more chess in pubs along the way. He felt that would be very helpful today. In any case, there was no use crying over spilled milk and that was that. 

For every scratch she managed to give he managed to repay at least double the amount. When all was said and done it was just one final lunge towards the throat that managed to turn the tide. Each stopped in their tracks as the injured reached up towards the wound, trying to suppress it, but unable to speak. The body fell.