The clattering noise of steel hitting steel echoes in the distance. In the vast field outside the City of Salisbury, a grand tournament is underway. Knights and lords from across Europe have gathered to display their expertise in martial arts and horsemanship. Cheers erupt from the spectators' podium as the contestants' wives and lovers shout encouragement.

Among the attendees, one figure stands out. Perky horse ears, though partially covered by a veil, are still visible to anyone paying attention. This is Lady MacSween, a horse-girl from the renowned Whitlock clan and wife to the lord of Salisbury. Her piercing violet eyes watch intently as the next round of foot combat is about to begin.

Her gaze locks onto a particular contestant. Though his face is obscured by his helmet's visor, she recognizes him by the colorful crest on his helmet and the heraldry on his shield. As squires and servants adjust the final pieces of armor on the competitors, trumpets blare, signaling the start of the combat.

MacSween presses her hands to her chest, silently praying for her husband's safety. "My lord..." she murmurs, the only words escaping her lips as her eyes remain fixed on her husband in the arena.