The Crown Prince's Secret

Chapter Seven

I stood in the center of the training area, now cleared out of all archery equipment, staring down the Prince across from me.

Like the guards, he wore a similar uniform though his was more gaudy, more fit for a Crown Prince. And while theirs were a deep blue, his was as inky as the rest of the clothes he wore. But unlike his usual outfits, his training uniform clung tight to his body, to his broad shoulders and muscled chest-

An ache spread across my back from the slap on my shoulder.

Saphira smiled. "I'm rooting for you."

"Well I'm rooting for His Highness." Elvira winked as she sauntered by with the other ladies. They sat along the wall waiting, and probably hoping, to see the Prince beat me.

I couldn't beat him. I would have to fight those natural instincts inside and lose instead.

"These are the terms," the Prince said, his voice sharp like the blade he swapped for a wooden sword. "If I win, you will receive some sort of humiliating punishment that I have yet to decide."

I groaned. "And if I win?"

"If you win, I owe you a favour."

"That is an incredibly vague offer, Your Highness. I could ask for anything."

"You could." He smirked.

"Please," I breathed. "Let's just get this over with."

The words barely left my mouth before the Prince rushed toward me. I hadn't moved, hadn't lifted my sword by the time he reached where I stood. And when he swung his arm toward me, I ducked back, missing the sword as it came crashing through the air.

The soft, warm expression on his face became wicked. Again he moved, swinging with brute force and I blocked-

Beneath the interlocked weapons, the Prince shifted back. It was predictable, skillful but predictable nonetheless. I realized then how much taller he was than me.

It had been years since I last wielded a sword and yet, it felt like no time at all. My body remembered everything, my mind, and I swung as the Prince lunged forward.

The sword crashed into his forearm, but there was no strength, no weight behind it. Faster than I could block, the Prince slid back and swiped his sword up against mine. I released my grip, letting it fly into the air.

And as it twirled back down toward me, the Prince kindly moved away. The sword landed in my grip and I was set ablaze by the arrogant expression on his face.

I barreled across the area and swung at him, catching the straps across his outer layer. Had it been a real sword, the blade would have easily sliced through the material.

And again-

I caught myself just before the sword struck his chest. What was I doing? I could not beat the Prince... I should not beat the Prince.

When the sword stopped, there was so little strength and power in my hold. The Prince attacked again, clashing the wooden swords together and I let mine slip through my grip.

I watched it soar, paying no attention to the raging opponent still before me. The dull edge prodded at my chest just as gasps of shock, confusion, sounded from the audience around us. Not only the Prince's potential brides, but their court ladies. The guards around us too.

I bowed my head. "You win, Your Highness."

I walked away, traipsing-

"No I didn't."

I continued on my path across the soft terrain to where my sword landed. Every muscle in my body screamed. I had forgotten how much strength and energy sparring required.

The Prince hissed again, "I did not win."

"Yes you did." I bent down, fetching the wooden stick from the ground. "You knocked the weapon from my hand and had we been using real swords, you could have easily stabbed me in the chest."

"These aren't real swords. And that wasn't a real fight."

"Sparring is not a real fight."

"You know what I mean."

I handed the sword to the Prince and bowed once more. "If you don't mind, I will take my punishment now."

...

I dumped the bag out onto the bar top and began sorting through the materials.

After our fight and my loss, the Prince sulked for the remainder of the day. In fact, he was seething too. I could only imagine it was because he was embarrassed believing that I let him win in front of the ladies and perhaps it would have been kinder to beat him, but I remembered a story from when I was young about a commoner who sparred with the Prince. They found his body washed up on shore the next day...

"What are you wearing?" My Dad managed to ask between his bursts of laughter. "Honey! Come look!"

"Stop," I hissed under my breath. But it was too late, the entire household was barreling down the stairs and into the restaurant.

My Mom's face was as pale as the napkins. "Oh. My."

Indira bent forward, bracing her hands on her knees to keep from falling over with laughter. "You can't leave until my friends get here."

My Mom winced, scratching the back of her head- "Why are you-"

"I lost a bet to the Prince," I groaned, turning my focus back to the makeup on the counter.

"Oh good," my Dad sighed. "Because that is really not your colour."

The mint green top crossed in front, tying at the back of my neck, barely covering my chest and leaving the majority of my back uncovered. A sheer band of fabric hung at the bottom, embroidered with what I assumed were the finest silver beads. The matching skirt sat just above my hips and though it reached my ankles, the slit across it was enough to have my legs on display.

And the final touch? A thin silver belt across my waist.

Inara raced across the room, reaching for the items on the bar. "What is all this stuff?"

But it was Indira who answered, "Kenny lost a bet with the Prince. Now he has to dress like a woman for the day."

I groaned in my head. Don't remind me.

Lyssa merely shrugged. "You look good though."

"I need to go before-"

"You are taking babygirl to a whole new level." Nadia's eyes flared. "But I'm into it."

Quickly, I started throwing all of the makeup into the bag.

Nadia lifted herself onto the counter, peering down the rest of the outfit and I stepped back just as she reached out to poke the exposed section of my stomach.

"Don't deny our love," she muttered.

"You are a child." I collected the bags from the shelf behind me with my clothes, lunch, and the rest of the Prince's stuff that I had to return. "I'm too old for you."

"You're only three years older than me!"

"Three too many." I patted Mika and Koa's heads gently. "Bye, children. Have a good day at school." I slipped out the door to avoid the rest of the questions.

Across the street, Mr. Kumal was grinning from ear to ear. "Kenzo!" he shouted, but didn't bother to look up from the fresh fruit he was cutting. "You got sick of your Mom nagging you to find a wife so you became one?"

"I'll remember that next time I think of sneaking you free liquor at the holiday party."

But the old man only chuckled to himself.