Forbidden Thoughts, Forbidden Actions

Distractions

      It had been several days since he'd last seen Brendon, that night where they'd shared that kiss and swore not to speak of it to anyone else. Brendon had slept there, no, they hadn't had sex.
      It was simply to avoid the suspicion of Brendon leaving in the middle of the night. Ryan had gotten into several fights in the past few days, most fights in sparing, but several outside of that as well.
    He was disgusted about how some citizens were. And so naturally, he had ever so casually picked a fight with a few. At one point he got beaten the hell out of so bad, by this one guy who had no clue who he was, that he broke his nose.
    That still hurt, by the way. It bled a lot too. Ryan picked fights because of the fact that he hated how everyone would treat him like perfect prince Ryan from castle Downpour. He was a nice guy, kind and funny, as everyone believed.
    That was true, but these past few days his anger had been spilling out worse. He found out that his mother was pregnant, and he'd simply lost it. His father was dying, that was official. The alcohol was killing him, and everyone in the kingdom sure knew it by now.
     So, to get his anger out without Brendon finding out, he'd gone out and gotten into plenty of fights, with people who didn't know what prince Ryan looked like. Easy enough.
    He'd sighed as he held the sword in his hand. His aunt had lectured him on how fighting the peasants would only make it worse and so he had resorted to sparing with both fists and his sword.
   It was crafted from the best iron in Downpour. His mother gave it to him when he turned fifteen, because his father had insisted on him becoming a knight to show the kingdom he was no petty and weak child.
    That was when his training had started. Since then he's sparred about every time he got the chance. It was just something he liked to do.
   He adjusted the sword in his hand as he dodged his opponent, some stupid boy he didn't know the name of. Left, right, back, front, side. Hit to the side. Fuck. He ignored the pain of the back side of the handle.
     It had knocked the wind out of him, but he had quickly reacted after a slight pause, breathing in again and turning to the left, clashing swords with the boy. He was maybe 13? Ryan wasn't sure.
     He needed up cornering the boy against the wall, sword to his throat. " Match! " He heard from across the room, knowing he had won. He turned around letting the boy free, only to be kicked in the back of the knees and pinned to the ground.
     " Keep your guard up. " The kid said to him, smirking lightly because he had now won. The rules in Downpour was that ten seconds after the instructor called the match, it still went on for ten seconds before officially being over.
    How he forgot that, Ryan didn't know. He sighed and laughed, " Damn, a kid beat the prince of Downpour. Good luck kid, that's an accomplishment " He smiled and stood up, patting the kid on the head and ruffling up his hair.