Kidnapping the Prince

Kidnapping the Prince Installment IX

Kidnapping the Prince Installment IX

~ DAY TWO OF THE BALL ~

“Watch your footing,” Ryan instructed sharply. Dan’s eyes flickered for a split second down to his feet, which immediately readjusted themselves, before they snapped back to the two practice swords beating on each other expertly. Sweat dripped down their heated faces, and I was rather painfully warm in my unwisely chosen velvet dress.

From my perch on the fence of the ring, I had a clear view of the Locks, a dark, ominous needle of cold black stone against the bright blue sky. I itched to just run over to it; it was so close! But, being the good imposter-noble I was, I stayed put on the uncomfortable fence and continued to “write” in my journal. Really I was just doodling. So far I’d done a picture of a unicorn, a detailed map of the back of my hand, and a rough, childish sketch of Dan and Ryan sparring.

As I started on a diagram of a pine tree, Ryan and Dan halted their training. I closed the leather journal, leaving my quill inside to mark my place.

“So,” I asked Ryan playfully, “has our royal pain improved any?”

“Nope,” Ryan smirked. Dan sent a glare at Ryan who chuckled and corrected himself, “I mean, he has improved a little.”

“Better than not at all. Besides, it’s only the first lesson,” Dan sighed before picking up a water flask and taking a long drink from it. Ryan did the same, and then he casually wiped his sweaty forehead with his sleeve. I reminded myself to tell him later that nobles didn’t wipe their faces with their clothing.

“We’ll keep going until noon, and then after lunch my father is hosting a jousting tournament as part of the festivities for his birthday. Of course,” Dan rolled his eyes, “I am more than happy to attend,” he finished with a dusting of sarcasm. I grinned.

“Well, Tyson is going to have to attend,” I volunteered for Ryan. He shot me a brief glare, but answered in a cheerful voice anyway.

“I think it’ll be splendid. And it shall be especially pleasing for the score of young ladies to see me beat their prince,” he grinned at Dan who’s face turned sour for a brief second, but it wasn’t an unfriendly sour. Ryan and Dan had become fast friends through their brief sparring session. I marveled at it; Ryan, the depressing little twerp, friends with Dan, the charming and chivalrous prince.

The two of them began their dance again, each alternating between parrying blows and attacking sharply. Ryan didn’t extend his full skill this time; they sparred slowly with Ryan shouting out instructions and encouragement between strikes.

“Wrong again,” Ryan said patiently while Dan cursed under his breath. “You leaned too far left, which caused you to go off balance. See,” Ryan demonstrated the incorrect blow Dan had administered, “if you don’t tilt too much, you can feint quickly then pull back and attack for real.” Dan watched with rapt attention. “You try it,” Ryan stepped back to give Dan some more space. His face scrunched with concentration, Dan performed the move, this time barely moving his body at all.

“Too rigid this time,” Ryan smiled. “Relax your body and just lean a little bit.” Again, he demonstrated the correct way to do it. “Try once more.”

Taking a deep breath, Dan mimicked the attack perfectly this time. Ryan clapped for him with a grin on his face. A bright smile lit up Dan’s face and he swept into a low bow as if to say “Ta-da!”

“Dan has done it again!” I cheered from the fence with a chortle.

“Again? It’s the first time!” Ryan snorted. Laughing, Dan practiced the move a few more times before the pair moved on.