Cinderella vs. the Fairy Godmother (sequel)

Chapter 38

            Valerie released her latest deep breath and held her sword up in the guard position, shifting her weight into the stance she’d been drilled on. Across from her, wearing matching padded armor, was Darren. The padded helm he wore made it hard to see his face, but from the relaxed way he was standing, she was pretty sure he was grinning.

            “Why do I let you talk me into these things?” she called across the practice court.

            Leaning against the gleaming gold of the wood walls behind her, Isaac grinned. “Because you don’t want to have to have him rescue you again.”

            She glared at him. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

            Isaac bowed, his usual wicked grin pulling at his lips. Across the hall, Darren chuckled and said, “Because you don’t want to have to have me rescue you again.”

            She dropped her stance to prop her hands on her hips. “I don’t like either of you. Not one bit.”

            The prince’s smile was a match for Isaac’s. “Now, now Valerie. You’re only testy because Lord Pineheights told you women have no place in battle and that embroidery would be a more suitable hobby for you.”

            She scorched him with her gaze. “Thank you for reminding me,” she hissed.

            Darren held his hands up defensively. “Hey, I didn’t say it. I’m only asking you not take your anger at him out on us.”

            She quirked one eyebrow up at him. “Really? Because I remember a similar comment you made at the ball when-”

            “Ah! That was different. I was worried about you. And that was in the past. I fully support your desire to get weapons training. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be standing here in padding so you can whack me with a pointy bit of metal.”

            “Pointy bit of metal?” she said, smiling.

            He pinked and looked away for a moment. When he looked back, he called, “Do you want to spar or not?”

            She chuckled. “Yes. Why else would I have my pointy bit of metal ready?”

            “You’re never going to let me forget any of my stupidity?” he muttered down at the polished wood floor, his distorted reflection staring back at him. Then he pulled his head back up and said, “Alright, Isaac, if you’ll do the honours?”

            He slid his way to the centre position between them. Holding up an imaginary microphone he announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. Today we have a treat for you. Behold the spectacle that is the sparring match between two stubborn morons. In the red corner, standing at five foot ten is Valerie Ash, wielding her practice rapier. In the blue corner, standing at well over six feet tall is Prince Darren, holding onto his pointy bit of metal. Who will win? We’re about to find out, folks. Go!” On the last word, Isaac raced back to the wall, plopping down onto one of the benches and grinning as he watched them begin.

            Darren gave Isaac a dirty look at the metal comment before turning back to Valerie. But she was already running forward, her sword held two-handed and angled across her torso. He pulled one foot back, dropping into his guard stance and holding his practice blade in a mirror image of her grip.

             She moved so her sword was a horizontal line in front of her as she continued her charge. He braced himself for impact. At the last moment, she darted sideways, slicing out at his waist. He twisted, parrying her blade and chopping down for a strike of his own. She brought her sword whizzing down onto his, sending it flying towards the floor. He turned the blow, bringing it swinging toward her legs.

            She leapt back then lunged forward. He leaned away before one-handedly swatting the tip of her sword to the side. She reached up to again grip her sword in both hands as he dashed into her broken guard. She tried to turn her sword towards him but he caught her wrist and held his blade around so it pressed against her back. He grinned at her. “You’re getting better.”

            She grumbled something inaudible to him then sighed. “I shouldn’t have tried to grab it with both hands again, eh?”

            He nodded. “Getting your sword between me and you should have been your first priority. You could have adjusted your grip afterward and in the worst case, jumped after your blade if I had managed to knock it from your hands.”

          “Mah,” she said, making a face. “Well at least I know for next time. Thanks Darren.”

            He grinned at her, when an idea struck him. Before she had a chance to react, he leaned down and kissed her firmly on the lips. She froze for a moment, giving him the opportunity to press her to him. She felt her face warm up while the pit of her stomach did the same. She kissed him back, flicking his closed lips with her tongue, like she was knocking at the door.

            Darren’s lips parted and his tongue met hers with equal heat. She wondered, as his grip on her hardened, which wasn’t the only part of him doing so, if she should get him to come back to her room. It’d been such a long time and if he was as good at the rest as he was at kissing…

            Isaac quietly edged towards the door, keeping one eye on the pair. As long as they continued to forget he was there, things would work out fine.

            The prince pulled away slightly and they stood there, both a bit short of breath. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against hers, smiling. “Tie?”

            She flushed and looked down. “Yeah,” she said. Then she met his gaze, smiled, and leaned in to peck him on the lips.  She broke out of his arms and called over her shoulder, “But I’ll win next time.”

            Grabbing Isaac’s arm as she passed him on her way out the door, she walked staring straight ahead. Only he saw the expression on her face, which made him laugh. She glared at him, but still dragging him behind her as she marched off.