A Royal's Tale [COMPLETED]

Chapter 31 - "You lost."

Wilder

The sword glinted in the sunlight as it bore down on Wilder. He raised his blade to meet it, the metal clashing. In a blink, the sword broke away and struck again. Wilder met it yet again. Over and over, strike after strike came for Wilder but he parried them all. Still, Alwyn continued to attack viciously. She was like a viper, darting in then out.

"Focus on your follow-through," Wilder said as he blocked another attack. "You're thinking too much of your next move that you are weakening on the end."

Alwyn didn't respond, but Wilder knew she heard him from her pinched brows. The next time she swung at him, she kept her focus, making his arm jolt as the blades met. They made a wide circle, Wilder retreating as Alwyn charged forward. He knew most of the crew watched them, but Alwyn was too fast for him to dare take his eye off her.

He noticed her grinding her teeth as he easily deflected a perfect cut.

"Keep emotions in control," he said. "They will be your downfall if you give in. Let your frustration fuel you, making you quicker, stronger."

Unlike the previous advice, Alwyn visibly struggled with this one more. It was understandable, everyone had their areas of weakness.

Despite Wilder's comments, he knew they made a good match. His dominant strength was balanced by her fierceness. Her swiftness was balanced by his muscle memory.

As they fought, Wilder gave ground. Until in a rush, he surged forward, twisted his sword against Alwyn's, breaking it from her grasp, and closed the distance between them, his blade at her throat.

"I like this one," Wilder heard Raif say. "Can we kidnap him and keep him?"

"I did that once and it didn't go as planned," Isla returned.

Wilder barely heard the end of the conversation, his attention locked on Alwyn. They both stood there, breathing hard, sweat trailing down their faces from the sun and exertion. Neither of them had been holding back.

"Remember," Wilder said, remaining before her. "Simply because an opponent gives ground doesn't mean he doesn't have a strategy."

"I should be prepared then," Alwyn said.

It was then Wilder felt the point of a knife in his ribs. He couldn't help it, he smiled. This girl was a worthy opponent. Fast and cunning. He admired her for that.

"Your throat would still be cut," he said.

"True. And you would bleed out in a minute."

Wilder took a step back and lowered his sword. Alwyn spun her dagger and slipped it into her boot. One of the sailors approached Wilder with a mug of water and he gratefully accepted it.

"You lost," Cyrus said to Alwyn. "But is that a smile I see, Wyn?"

Wilder glanced over in time to see Alwyn's grin morph into a scowl. Cyrus laughed and Alwyn looked at Wilder, shaking her head, denying her brother's statement. Shoving her mug into Cyrus's stomach, Alwyn went to retrieve her sword. She raised it towards Wilder.

"Shall we?" she asked.

Her eyes gleamed with a challenge, a love of a good fight. It contrasted her golden hair, round face, and lithe figure.

Yet somehow Wilder found the strange contrast captivating. Who could ever guess there was so much fire in one person? His intrigue left him off his guard. A fact Alwyn seized, striking at him. Only a lifetime of training protected him, his body acting even before his mind did.

Alwyn laughed. "I almost had you there."

"Almost."

They circled each other, but before either of them could make a move, a shout rang overhead.