Chapter 33: Beautiful?
The night was dark and beautiful with the full moon decorating the sky.
The forest was silent except for the buzzing of the insects. And in the middle of the clearing stood students of the academy, currently facing each other.
William’s breath was slightly uneven as he grinned at the girl.
For the past few minutes, he has been fruitlessly trying to capture her.
She was just too damn nimble.
"Ready to lose again?" she asked, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
William smirked. "You talk a lot for someone who ran from me last time."
Emma laughed softly. "Oh, I didn’t run. I dodged."
Then she moved — fast.
Her foot shot out toward his side, but William blocked it with his forearm and went for her wrist. She twisted like a shadow, slipping free, then hooked his ankle with her heel. He stumbled back a step, barely regaining balance before she came in again.
"Still can’t see me coming," she teased, her tone light.
William grinned, catching her next strike mid-air. With a sudden pull, he spun her around, trying to bring her down — but she used the motion to flip over his shoulder and land behind him.
The moment her feet touched the ground, she swept his leg. He dropped to one knee, but caught her wrist before she could strike again.
Their eyes met — close enough to feel each other’s breath.
"Caught you," he said.
Emma’s smirk widened. "You sure about that?"
In the next instant, she shifted her weight, using his grip to swing herself around his shoulder. Her knee pressed against his back, and with a small push, William hit the ground with a thud.
For a few moments, he just stared at the dirt before him.
Emma sat on his back and tilted her head, "Did I hurt you somewhere?" Her playful tone clearly indicated how much she meant what she asked.
William moved his index finger and Emma was lifted off his back.
The girl giggled, "Oh my, are you going to bully me now using sorcery?"
"Nothing would be more lame than that." William muttered, his eyes sharp as he took his stance once again.
They circled again, breath steady, eyes locked. The forest air felt heavy — the kind of silence that comes before a storm.
William lunged first this time, faster than before. His hand shot out, aiming for Emma’s shoulder, but she ducked low and slid past him. Her movements were smooth, almost playful.
"Not bad," she said, spinning on her heel.
William didn’t wait — he charged again, his speed forcing her to step back. Their arms clashed, their feet tangled in a blur of motion. Dust kicked up around them as they traded grips and pushes, neither giving an inch.
Then, with a strong twist, William grabbed her arm and turned his body, using his weight to shove her toward the edge of the circle.
Emma’s boot scraped the glowing line — just an inch more and she would’ve been out.
Finally! William rejoiced in his head, finally he was going to have a point!
But ...Emma wasn’t going to lose the battle she had fought countless times before.
In one quick motion, she dropped her body low, grabbed his wrist, and spun. Her leg hooked around his, and with a sharp tug, she flipped their positions.
William’s balance broke completely.
His eyes widened as his own momentum carried him past the edge of the circle.
Thud.
He stumbled out, landing on one knee just outside the ring.
Emma straightened, brushing off her hands with a sly smile. "You nearly had me...nearly though."
William exhaled a deep breath.
He was craving for a real battle and Emma served him one.
He didn’t panic and definitely didn’t show aggression. She had defeated him using her head more than her body.
She was applying force where it was necessary and always remains aware of the limits.
William silently entered the ring again.
This could be the final round.
Emma turned silent, knowing that William was going to give his all this time.
A moment of silence, and then they clashed.
William’s hand shot toward her shoulder, but she slipped aside, her body twisting like water. He turned just as fast, catching her wrist mid-spin. Emma tried to pull back, but he caught her other arm too — locking her in place for an instant.
She gritted her teeth and pushed off the ground, using her legs to wrap around his waist. With a burst of strength, she tried to flip him over — but William dropped low, escaping the move and rolling away.
She spun to face him, only to find him already closing the distance.
Their hands met again — a blur of grips, slips, and reversals. Every escape led to another counter. Her elbow grazed his chin, his arm brushed past her ribs. The tension between them grew thicker than the air itself.
"Not bad," Emma muttered through shallow breaths.
William didn’t respond. His focus was entirely on the match.
He lunged, and this time, caught her waist. Emma gasped, trying to twist away, but he used his momentum to lift and throw her backward.
Her feet hit the ground right on the edge — her heel half over the glowing line.
She wobbled, barely keeping balance. William rushed in, reaching for her shoulder to finish it—
But Emma wasn’t done.
At the last moment, she grabbed his arm and pulled him down with her weight.
Both of them toppled.
Thud!
They fell past the ring’s edge, rolling through the dirt before coming to a stop. William ended up above her, one hand behind her head to cushion the fall and one hand on the ground to prevent himself from crushing her.
His breath came out rough, but his eyes softened when he saw her face.
Emma caught that flicker of concern and smiled faintly. "You didn’t hurt me."
William narrowed his eyes. "You can be pretty nasty in a fight, you know that?"
Emma chuckled lightly. "I knew you wouldn’t like it if I didn’t give it everything."
He went quiet. She was right—and they both knew it.
His gaze drifted downward, studying her features.
Her silver hair spilled across the ground, gleaming under the moonlight. Her aquamarine eyes were calm yet deep, like they could pull him in if he stared too long.
"You lied about being a commoner, didn’t you?" he murmured. "With hair like that, you must’ve faked your identity to avoid unwanted attention."
Emma hummed, unbothered. "Would you refuse to take me as your wife unless I came from a strong family?"
William scoffed, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Pretty full of yourself to think I’d marry you."
Her smile faded. Her gaze lowered, and in a quiet, fragile tone, she asked, "Am I... not worthy of you?"
*Ba-dum.*
Something in his chest jolted. Maybe it was the closeness, maybe her trembling voice—but his heart thudded hard enough to drown out the forest sounds.
Then came her next question, even softer. "Is it because I’m not as beautiful as Lizel... that you hate me?"
William bit his lip, frustration flashing across his face. "Don’t just assume whatever you want," he scolded gently.
Emma blinked up at him, a flicker of surprise crossing her eyes.
And then, she asked, "So am I not ugly?"
He shook his head.
"Am I beautiful?" She asked, a hopeful light in her eyes.
William took a deep breath, "Yes...you are beautiful...more than anyone I have ever met."
°°°°°°°°
A/N:- Emma...has him wrapped around her little finger
Well, thanks for reading. I hope the combat was not boring.