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Then the blackness surrounded Skye and obscured her from sight.

"Daughter of mine," a voice like the thundering of hooves and the clash of swords, "You dissappoint me."
Skye clutched her bleeding arm and tried to see through the haze.
"I thought I had prepared you better."
"Prepared me for what, great Mithrain?" Skye asked.
"This. The battle with your greatest foe."
"I never wanted to battle the crown prince!" Skye shouted.
"But yet you are. And if you want to live and be a lady knight, the first in centuries, you will have to kill him."
"And leave the kingdom without a ruler?" Skye was appalled.
"No. You have your knightmaster, Liam. He's a prince."
"But, Liam doesn't want to rule. He told me just as much."
"Perhaps. You should aim to damage George's left leg." The blackness began to fade.
"Wait!" Skye shouted.
Then she found herself back in the training yard. George in front of her with his sword dripping with her blood and watching her.