To Die For

A classic love triangle, where only one man can get the girl. Stefan is the younger, more skillful duelist, but Juan is the man whose captured her heart. Set around the few moments of a Duel.

The morning sun bathed the garden in its light, causing the dew clinging to the intricately styled shrubbery to shimmer softly. The light scent of flowers hung in the air, and Stefan considered for a moment that if they were gathered together here for any other purpose than this one, that it would make for an almost magical setting on a wonderfully memorable day. He carefully shrugged his frock coat off his shoulders, handing it to his attendant, then slowly rolled the cuffs of his silk doublet. Next he drew his cavalry saber from the scabbard hanging from his belt and tested its edge. Satisfied it was adequately sharp, he began going through a few exercises to warm and loosen the muscles of his arms and legs.

As he went through his exercises, his thoughts drifted to Christina. He knew her since he was a young man, and had loved her for as long. To him, there was a radiance about her, a warmth of kindness that caused her to stand out wherever she was. Even on a day like today, Stefan felt like everyone else was stood in darkness when set beside her brilliance.  His gaze drifted over to her, and he saw the look of worry on her face. He knew it wasn’t for him.

He smiled to himself all the same, then glanced over to his opponent. Juan Acosta. He was an older man, perhaps in his thirties. He was an experienced combatant, having served in the Dragoons in his youth. He was also victor in half a dozen duels. He never had to kill anyone in them though, which was a good thing to many people. Stefan wasn’t one of them. If a man wasn’t willing to die for the principles he values, then how much can he truly claim to value them? Juan stepped forward and signaled his readiness, so Stefan did the same.

The rules of the duel were laid out and the two men lifted their sabers. Stefan locked eyes with his opponent and smiled. He knew he was the better man, and in a few moments he would prove it in front of the woman he loved. That’s when she called out to him. 

“If you kill him Stefan I will never marry you!”  

The pistol shot fired -- the duel had begun. It took only a few quick moments for Juan to open a cut on Stefan’s cheek, signaling him as the winner. He brought his blade up in a military salute to his opponent, then flourished it and turned away to move over to Christina, who rushed into his embrace. Stefan didn’t understand. He was the younger, quicker and even more skilled opponent. How was it that he lost?

The air stung the cut on his cheek, a thin tear of blood trickling down to his chin. He watched as the two shared their embrace, saw the relief on Christina’s face. Stefan felt the world falling out from under his feet, accompanied by a dreadful emptiness in his stomach. She was gone now, Juan would get her and he would not. His proposal had been stronger -- he was younger, he had more to offer her, certainly her family encouraged her to choose Stefan, but she had loved Juan.

As they continued to celebrate, he could feel everything slipping away from him. He had been stupid to accept Juan’s challenge, he realized. Without her he had nothing he cared for. The morning, once full of vibrant promises now seemed like little more than a charcoal sketch, devoid of its previous vibrancy. He began to feel cornered, desperate. It seemed to him that he had been a marionette, and Juan was the puppeteer. Something inside him snapped, and he charged blindly at Juan with his sword raised!

Christina shrieked in fear, jumping away from Juan whose hand flashed down to the hilt of his saber, and then as he whirled around to face his assailant, his hand snapped upward as quickly as a lightning strike. Stefan felt a familiar sting on his throat, then a rush of cool air. He tried to speak, but the only sound he heard was burbling. He collapsed onto the ground, the grass feeling like it rushed up to meet his face.

Christina rushed to his side, kneeling down beside him. He heard Juan ask him why he did it, then felt as though he could not breathe.  As the cold crept in he began to panic. He tried to stand up, tried to reach out, but he knew that to everyone else it probably seemed like convulsions. Christina wept.

“I never loved you Stefan. I never would have married you, even if you had won. Why? What was the point?” He was going numb now, though it wasn’t because of her rejection. The light of life was fading from his eyes, and the last thing he saw before the nothingness enveloped him was the look in her eyes.

She looked as though she pitied him.

Author's Note

This story is one of a pair, written as part of a writing exercise myself and James Whitefall, a fellow writer here on writer's cafe, are doing to hopefully improve each other as writers. His will be along shortly. The topic for this exercise was "A romance scene of confessed love, the other party brutally rejects." Hope you all enjoy.