Lizzie of the North (Yrsoreth Chronicles 2)

55◦✿◦Arrows and Potions

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Lizzie woke up the next day with a dry mouth and headache. It took an hour and a drop of medicine in her tea to get up, be dressed in the clothes sent from the imperial palace and have breakfast. The last thing she remembered last night was the brawl and being told she was drunk from chocolate. That and the swaying feeling that lulled her to sleep.

For someone who was not a fan of alcohol nor she was allowed to, her tolerance was extremely low. The maids in the imperial inn could not answer how she ended back in the inn, but they were all red in a stuttering mess. "You were brought here, Your Highness."

She concluded that she must have done something embarrassing.

Nevermind. Today is the last of her unfulfilled list. Sixth.

Instead of going around the capital and sampling all the delicacies, she could put her hands on, sightseeing and enjoying the day like a commoner, she was back at the Imperial Palace, somehow sitting among the seats of noble spectators watching a jousting exhibition for the recruits, that were a mix of nobles and commoners.

It was to display the strength of the imperial knights, whom the crown prince was taking over from the emperor starting this year.

Sword fight, archery and mock duel on horseback were performed, but it was hard to appreciate the display of strength when there were squealing of ladies at the crown prince and his knights, and how their bare shoulders from the tunic had muscles that glistened against the sun, especially her seatmates.

When the prince walks, fanning by the ladies would intensify. When he faces the crowd with his furrowed brows, murmurs ensue. When he swings his sword, gasps follow.

He's good, Lizzie would praise Alec in her mind, and then she proceeded to wonder how long could he last a duel with Garth. Maybe he'd stand a chance, she thought. Then with the image of his brother, Orogarthias Norvillon, the Smiling Devil of the battlefield would invade his mind.

Lizzie prayed for Alec's fortune. May you never have to fight my brother.

"I'll do it, Qilla," a woman next to her whispered, yet enough for Lizzie to hear. "Watch me. I'll give the prince this handkerchief with the witches' potion."

"Shh," another shushed. "And the witch down Fihendra Avenue was a fraud haven't you heard? She was caught yesterday. That potion might just be her spit and all things rotten."

"But... but I'll try. Even if I lose my head."

Lizzie pretended to be occupied by the demonstrations but cringed inside, unconsciously fixing the ribbon of her lacy hat snugly under her chin. Thankfully, her hair was still tucked under it. Alec, poor you for having this kind of admirer.

Unable to endure all the gushing and desires through love witchcraft, she left the place Kef guided her earlier and moved to the vacancy far back, the highest of the elevated audience area of the coliseum. Though some people would have a double-take or stare longer at her face, she would ignore them. It's not like the nobles and commoners had seen the Norvillon Princess in person.

The guards, mostly archers, posted at the highest platform also glanced at Lizzie, she smiled at those she caught, and then they would look away. Kef stood behind as her guard as she settled on the more spacious area.

It was Alec's turn for a speech, and the women were particularly invested in every word. His eyes settled in the first seat she occupied, then swept the audience when she wasn't there. Their eyes met, but he quickly looked away, as if she was an eyesore. it was her turn to gasp, well almost, at his audacity.

Sure, the oversized green and lacy hat made her look like a leafy tree, but she had it better than others who seemed to have adorned theirs with the entire floral specie. Why was he avoiding her glare?

He spoke about meritocracy among the knights and that everyone is welcome and equal to become the empire's sword. He reminded the recruits about the hardship of training and the glory that awaits them. He also thanked the families that entrusted their sons and daughters in training to knighthood.

Yet, most of the ladies looked like he was confessing the words of love.

But why? she asked. He sure was avoiding her like she was a leafy blot in the sea of pastel. Still ticked off, she assumed Gran Dacchian women like men with attitude. Masochists.

The prince ended the speech and the people applauded. Naturally, spectators especially nobles left their seats and navigated towards him for greeting and such. He was quick enough to walk away from the podium towards the arena's exit.

One figure Lizzie recognized as her previous seatmate ran after him with a handkerchief

Spit and anything rotten. She recalled the conversation.

Well, he must suffer because he dared to not acknowledge her presence. She didn't endure the bitterness of the medicine in her tea, the hideous green hat to hide her hair in public and the awful headache she was trying to forget to attend this event, and just be treated this way.

What had she done wrong that he couldn't grace her a nod?

But what if the potion was real? A voice in her head asked. What if Alec will get bewitched?

Lizzie stood and approached the archer and found herself asking, "May I borrow this?"

Before the guard could decline, the bow and arrow were already in Lizzie's hands, thanks to Kef, who the guards recognized as the prince's comrade. Ah, the ribbon under her chin was annoying. She untied it.

Much better.

The princess stretched the bow and arrow and aimed.

The other lady was chasing after the crown prince with a tenacity borderline to running.

Lizzie was thankful that her arrow back in the north was based on the standard bow that soldiers used.

"You should be thankful, Alecis Gran Dacchia," she muttered.

Release.

The arrow pierced the lady's trailing gown and rooted her to the ground. She was pinned, in a sudden cease of her momentum, she fell hindward.

Everyone in the arena was taken aback, and for a moment the soldiers were on alert for an assassination. It was until they all looked up to Lizzie, now flanked by Kef and Tillamo out of nowhere, in defense of the escalated scenario.

Alec raised his arm for the command to stand down. The soldiers did and were even taken aback when the prince sighed and shook his head chuckling, in the short stunned silence of the arena. The elusive and usually stone-cold Crown Prince Alecis was chuckling. chuckling, and publicly at that. Murmurs spread like wildfire when the hints were put together.

What are you so happy about? Lizzie glared at Alec, her borrowed weapon down. This time, it was her turn to be flustered when he ran across the arena, up to the elevated seats to where she was.

"He's jogging," a noble below her seat said. "Jogging."

Until Alec reached Lizzie, laced their fingers and pulled her away with her silver hair dancing under the sun, the arena watched them like another exhibition.

Different rumors spread into the capital that day.

Version one: The Norvillon princess' arrow dipped in jealousy shall pierce any woman.

Version two: The two royals had such an intense relationship.

Version three: The crown prince was a masochist for loving such a violent woman.

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