Prince Zadkiel, page 29
“Oh, Saqoiya.”
“Someone has to befriend these Payonnians! Aaliya seriously thinks Zadkiel will choose her as his wife,” she said. “And once Zadkiel does eliminate her, her family is going to be furious. I’m doing what I can to keep positive relations with them and to prevent them from walking all over us. If they see us as weak, they’ll no doubt take advantage of our empire’s shaky situation with Baylor.”
This was concerning news. Their family continued to make complaints every day about this and that.
“The other contestants went to the royal wing already for a game of billiards, so I’ll take care of this ‘Princess Club’ in the morning when everyone’s present,” I said. “And then we’ll host a sleepover with all of the contestants on the rooftop tomorrow.”
Saqoiya’s shoulders slumped in defeat and she closed her eyes. I was a teenager once and knew the stomach-crunching feeling that came when I tried to gain the approval of those around me, and the embarrassment that came when my parents interfered. “And include Zendaya in your circle. Her spirits are down.”
“But—” Saqoiya stomped her foot.
“No.”
“She’s such an . . . awkward—”
“Saqoiya.”
“It’ll ruin my reputation. She sits and stares at us, mumbling things under her breath as if she’s trying to throw curses at us.”
“I. Don’t. Care.” I put my foot down.
“She even threatened to lick Aaliya’s face in her sleep.”
My hands remained on my hips, saying clearly that I wasn’t going to bend on this issue . . . but perhaps I’d have a talk with Zendaya about this. And her parents. No need to upset our Payonnian guest any further.
“Fine.” She stomped off.
It was hard to argue with an empress for a mother and win. I knew from experience.
“Good morning, girls!” I waltzed into the bachelorette pad in the early morning with a bright smile, before Zadkiel was to join them for breakfast. “Everyone, come out to the main area. I have an announcement.”
They surfaced from their rooms, some half-dressed, others with only part of their makeup on. Esperanza cautiously emerged with her servant holding her hair up so her hairdo wouldn’t fall out before it was finished.
I walked over to a sign labeled “Princesses Only” on the drawing room door and ripped it off.
“This entire section of the palace is for the contestants. Every one of you has equal access to all of these areas. And if any of you have an issue with this, then I can find a nice, new bedroom for you in the servants’ quarters in the basement.”
Seeing as none of the girls spoke up, I continued. “Also, we’re hosting a sleepover on the rooftop tonight with Zadkiel’s telescopes. He might even make an appearance, so dress appropriately.”
Although some girls were super excited about this and made quick comments about it, Aaliya glared at me.
“As contestants, all of you are required to come,” I said with a smile. “We have an eventful day ahead of us. I’ll see you outside at nine sharp.”
(Zadkiel)
The day was partially sunny with a few fluffy clouds that looked like candy floating above us. The clouds occasionally covered the sun, then revealed it again, teasing us with its divine rays. The soft scent of fresh rain permeated the air, even though the clouds had yet to give us any. Nonetheless, onlookers were prepared with umbrellas in case of a downpour during today’s competition: archery and sword fighting.
Last night, the bachelors in the palace and I had roughhoused in the sword-training room. I was able to update Nikko and my elven cousins on my dates, and to get advice. Of course, Nikko was confident that Anezka was the “only correct choice” for me in marriage. “A high-spirited succulent,” he had called her, as if dreaming of devouring her like candy or planting her in Zoella’s garden.
Today, the RMC would be back into full swing. A large gathering of nobles sat on chairs, hidden underneath tents, and stood about in little clusters to watch the events.
The prize for the competition today was a magic carpet ride—plus a date with me. The girls weren’t the only ones to compete though, as the young noblemen wouldn’t dare miss an opportunity to duel each other with swords like they were our favorite toys.
Because they were.
My mother drilled sword fighting into me. There could come a time where my life depended on it. She had said that “as the crown prince, it would be a royal embarrassment if you ever lost to anyone.” Thus, in the course of my youth, I’d had four of the best teachers in the land. Once I’d defeated my first teacher at age fourteen and couldn’t learn anything more from him a year later, she hired another, as I was to have a variety of perspectives on this matter. One was even a common street fighter, since they utilized different methods and philosophies when fighting.
The archery competition would come before sword fighting, but I was equally skilled at both.
I stepped onto the field and shot several arrows with the other noblemen. Even Makayla’s little brother joined in. After our fun was over, the girls’ archery competition began, and I decided to remain with them on the field.
“Nice aim, my lady,” I complimented.
Esperanza turned and bit her lip.
“Be careful, or I’ll take a bite out of that lip as well,” I whispered softly into her ear.
She hummed in delight.
Then I went down the line, seeing each girl. Opale wasn’t doing well. With her slightly plump figure, she seemed more like a homebody than an outdoor or energetic type. When I approached, she looked up at me, then lowered her eyes in respect. She thought too little of herself—not a good attribute for a future empress. Despite that, she had a soft, comforting energy and a deep intuition about her that I liked. Overall, I hadn’t figured out if I wanted to keep her after the eliminations.
“Nice shot,” I told the one girl who wore men’s clothing to the event. Pyper had hit bull’s-eye twice, nearly splitting the first arrow in half.
“I’m going to win this one today, Your Majesty,” she said, her green eyes peeking through her bangs to smile at me. “For you.”
“I have no doubt you’ll give these ladies a run for their money.”
“How do I shoot three arrows at once?” Makayla jumped over and grabbed my arm, taking me from Pyper. She wasn’t seasoned like these other girls, but despite coming in last, she kept a smile on her face and eagerly picked up the next arrow—somewhat like her enthusiasm during the polo match when she couldn’t ride the horses.
“Easy now.” Despite her unrefined behavior, I fully enjoyed being around her vibrant energy. There was still enough time for her to learn the ways of a noblewoman. “Master one arrow, then you can learn to use two at a time.”
“Well, I might not get another chance.” She grabbed three arrows and fumbled to place them correctly in her hand.
“All right, all right.” I attempted to slow her down. “I see I’m not going to convince you otherwise, and it’s better to do it safely.” My hand clasped over her tiny fingers as I corrected her finger posture. She held on to one arrow, then I slid a second and third between her fingers. She looked over her shoulder at me and smiled. Her curly hair felt like a pillow against my chest.
“Shoot vertically,” I said, so she wouldn’t accidentally hit anyone.
Makayla released the arrows, but they all went about five to ten feet, then plummeted to the ground, causing me to laugh.
“It’s harder than I thought.”
“Did you expect it to be easy? Many archers begin training as soon as they can walk.”
“But they make it look so easy,” she said, glancing over at Grace.
“They’re masters. And yes, they’ve been practicing since they were toddlers.”
“Hey!” Aaliya gave an irritating howl from a few rows down. “Makayla’s used more arrows than she’s allowed in this competition. You’re giving her an unfair advantage.”
“She’s not going to win anyway,” I said.
“Hey!” Makayla protested, but I raised a single eyebrow. “All right.” Her eyes rolled into her head. “I’ve only hit the target twice and these girls are getting bull’s-eyes every time. I’ll let them have this competition.”
I chuckled. She responded by pinching my side, tickling me.
“Hey, stop. Not out here,” I said.
She tickled my sides again.
“People are watching.” I stepped backward. “I need to see the other girls.” With that, I walked away before anyone else could notice that I had a weakness. If the attacker at the Yondragon Castle had tickled me, he would have defeated me in record time.
After walking down the line and talking to the remaining contestants, I returned to the royal box seats to finish watching the game. The top winners of the archery competition were invited to the second challenge, sword fighting. We intentionally wanted to eliminate the girls in the first round who might get themselves or others hurt while dueling—like Makayla, for instance.
But first, it was the boys’ turn to duel!
I pulled my sword, Excalibur, from its scabbard and listened to the metal ring. It was still perfectly polished from last night, something I always did myself. My servants knew not to touch my sword; I’d notice a fingerprint on the shiny surface from a mile away. With Excalibur ringing in my hand, I stepped onto the field and faced my first opponent, Esperanza’s brother. While this dancer had fancy footwork, it didn’t mean that Antonio’s strength could hold up on the battlefield.
The bell rang, and in one swift movement, I tapped his side, winning a point.
Sword fighting didn’t take long to win. In a split second, I could easily kill a man without him knowing what had become of him. Antonio was more alert after that, but he had nothing on me in the second round. I could tell his weaknesses and strengths just from the way he walked with his sword. Plus, he was among the boys who I dueled with last night, and I’d gotten a taste of his style.
Of all the opponents now dueling each other, my southern rival was the strongest, so I hoped to fight Zain.
Sword fighting was a combination of having strength, agility, balance, good footwork, and knowing the right angles of attack. I hoped to dominate the game as quickly as possible to impress the audience, and to warn others—like the attacker from the castle—what kind of an opponent I was. Of course, they’d used a pistol, but I thought that was a cheap move, a coward’s move! Real warriors faced each other in battle with swords. We looked into each other’s eyes. Searched each other’s souls. I wanted to meet that man again and duel him properly.
Zain put up a good fight against his opponent and defeated him in seven seconds. Too long. Was he hesitating? This meant the Payonnian heir and I were matched together in the final.
The bell rang and I used my knowledge of his weaknesses to tap him on his armor in seconds. A point for me. Yet I was disappointed it took me that long.
Zain’s lip started to twitch as he faced me for the second round. Fighting in anger was a losing strategy. This time, he tried fancy footwork to get me on my left side. But I tapped him on his chest for another point.
Like child’s play.
Zain’s face was beet red. He retreated to the side, took a swig of water, then turned back to me, more flustered than ever.
Once more, Zain charged me with his anger and I stepped aside, knowing he’d overstep again. Then I came back and won the round.
His eyebrow twitched with a look of disgust plastered on his face.
Fair was fair. I’d won and impressed every noble in the empire and beyond. Let that be a warning to the Payonnian Empire if they ever decide to march north. I walked off the field.
“The Prince of Payonna doesn’t look too happy,” my father said after I rejoined my family to watch the girls’ competition commence. We had special elevated seating for my family and a few guests, just above the competition. “Perhaps you could have . . . played with him a little longer. Teased him along to make him think he had a chance?”
“Whyever would I do that?” I wiped my sweaty forehead with a cloth.
“To not make enemies,” said Hedgewood, who sat in Saqoiya’s spot, since she was off flirting with Antonio.
Antonio had one arm leaning on the frame of a tent and a smile on his face. Saqoiya bit her lip, seeming to be forcing herself not to smile at whatever he was saying, but was struggling to keep up the act as her lip started to curl upward. Her face went flush. She quickly turned her head to the side so he couldn’t see her smile uncontrollably.
“That Prince Zain keeps looking at you like he wants revenge for his humiliation,” Hedgewood said.
“He won second place. He’ll survive.” I shrugged it off, but remained curious. My eyes shifted toward Zain, who was staring at me with the most menacing features I had ever seen on an opponent before. I nodded to him with a smile. He responded by spitting on the ground and turning away. Once inside his tent, he violently thrust his armor across the room. His family was certainly hard to get along with. Maybe they are right and I ought to be more careful with Aaliya’s family. . . .
Chapter 33
Magic Carpet Ride
The girls’ fight began. Nikko sat at the edge of his seat, narrowing his focus on the sword fight as if he were participating in it himself. He tried to remain composed as we were taught growing up, but occasionally jolted up, lifted his foot, or leaned forward or back with the movements of the girls’ clanging. And it was an exciting match indeed! The girls were ferocious, and let no misstep go without complete annihilation. Anezka’s braid, which fell down to her buttocks, acted as a weapon itself as it swung about. Her and Kaitlynn were neck and neck, but the Baylorian scored the last point, securing her place in the final.
The next two opponents, Pyper and Grace, were almost equal in abilities, but Grace was perhaps more refined since she was vigorously trained by experts growing up. Unfortunately for the Centaurian—who had more of a street style from fighting pirates—she couldn’t keep up. It was a shame, really. These two should have been in the final together, since they were the best of all the girls.
The two shook hands and Pyper wiped the sweat from her brow as she sulked off the field. To the side, her three brothers comforted her as she struggled to hold back tears. The final battle was between the two champions, Kaitlynn and Grace.
“Grace and Kaitlynn again?” my mother tried to whisper to my father, but not low enough to evade my keen elven ears.
Tension built up inside me as I felt the pressures of not being allowed to choose my own contestant. My mother never directly told me I couldn’t, but her little comments here and there put a strain on me, nonetheless. But I also wanted my mother to get along with my wife.
After a moment’s rest, the two girls curtsied to each other, then stared one another down like ferocious bulls wanting to decimate their opponent. The first point went to Grace, making me wonder if she’d allow Kaitlynn to score a single point at all. The Baylorian wasn’t the best female sword fighter among my group. Pyper could easily outwit her.
The bell rang and the second round began. When Grace thrusted forward, Kaitlynn didn’t defend herself. Instead, she stepped backward and Grace fell off balance. Kaitlynn easily scored a point after that.
Everyone in the crowd sat at the edge of their seats in surprise. Who knew the Perfect Princess was capable of making such a mistake?
“I noticed that the princess sometimes oversteps,” my mother said, staring at the field so she didn’t miss a moment. “Other than this one weakness . . . she has perfect form.”
My father turned to my mother with a mischievous smile. “Perfect form, just like you—”
“Oh, stop it.” My mother playfully tapped his arm, causing him to laugh hysterically.
Grace was red in the face after her single misstep. She took a moment to get a drink of water and listened as her mother scolded her.
“You better not lose! All those years of training, wasted,” I overheard her mother growl. “Get back out there and defeat her!”
Grace was breathing heavily. Tears formed in her eyes, but a lady like her wouldn’t dare let any fall in front of others. Entering a final match with high emotions never boded well for anyone. Her mother had only made things harder for her.
In the final round, the princess wasn’t as focused and repeated the same disastrous error. Kaitlynn clearly anticipated this coming and tapped her on the arm for the win.
My family and I were all out of our seats, not remembering at what point we stood.
One glance at Grace’s parents, staring daggers at her, and I knew she would be reprimanded harshly.
I stepped onto the field with a bouquet of flowers, but offered Grace a hug first. She faked a smile, but her eyes were watering. I could only imagine the pain she felt, losing at something her family had drilled into her. The humiliation. The fear of punishment by two overly strict parents. The weight of expectation. Sports were as mentally challenging as they were physically, and the pressure was too much for some, even for her.
I whispered into her ear, “You’re always a winner to me.”
She breathed heavily, then turned into her family’s tent to hide, and possibly to cry. But I had to give my attention to the actual winner.
Kaitlynn was out of breath as I escorted her to the royal seats. My mother held her breath and gripped the armchair when Kaitlynn walked by. Still, Kaitlynn curtsied, and honored her with the proper titles, which was an improvement.
After sitting down, the duchess stared directly ahead, stiff as a statue, clutching the flowers in her arms like a teddy bear. Meanwhile, I moved uncomfortably in my seat, not knowing how to ease the tension between my family, Kaitlynn, and I.
She was allowed a moment’s rest in the royal box seats while my father and his former RMC co-contestants all stepped onto the field to battle it out with each other. Hedgewood’s protruding belly jiggled every time he stepped forward to duel my father. The crowds were having a hoot and a few laughs, especially after my father tapped Hedgewood on the buttocks with his sword.
