Authors: K. N. Lee
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Fantasy, #Romance, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Epic, #Sword & Sorcery, #Teen & Young Adult
“WHEN WILL YOU
visit Brenton,” Princess Pria asked Prince Aric while he licked cream and honey from her navel.
Aric looked into her eyes with a wicked grin. “When you break your engagement with that old man you’re to marry.”
Pria rolled her eyes. “He is not just an old man. He is the king of Lhionaire, the second biggest kingdom of the nine. It’s even bigger than yours,” she said, grabbing a fistful of his long blond hair. “Now get back up here.”
Her lips tasted as sweet as the honey they shared on the tiny toasts his servant had placed on the floor next to Aric’s pallet.
He deepened the kiss, exploring the soft wetness of her tongue. He bit her lower lip. “Its fine if you won’t leave King Ellid for me. You’re too old for me anyway.”
Pria’s face reddened. She extended her arm between them, pushing him away.
“You are such an insufferable bastard,” she said climbing up from the plush blankets and pillows.
Aric rolled over onto his back, his head resting on his folded arm.
“I was joking,” he said. You’re not that old.”
She glared at him. “You better be ready tomorrow,” she hissed, putting her simple green dress back on.
“I’m always ready,” Aric said, grinning.
“Good,” she said as she tied her bow around her waist. “Because I plan to grind your face into the coliseum floor. With my boot.”
Laughing, Aric came to his feet. Naked, he walked over to her. She was angry. He couldn’t let her leave with a frown on her face.
What would people think? What would that do to his reputation?
She huffed as he approached her.
“Get away from me, you brute.”
“Come now,” Aric said, unfolding her arms from across her chest. “You have to know that I was only joking. I adore you.”
Pria glared up at him, but as planned, his charming smile softened her face. She sighed and kissed him on the cheek.
“How can I stay upset when your eyes remind me of the sky on a summer day?”
Aric tilted his head. “When did you become a poet?”
She grinned at him as he leaned down to kiss her on the lips.
“Goodnight, Pria,” he said. He opened his door to let her out into the corridor of the east wing of the Rhene palace.
Her guards waited outside his door, ready to escort her to the west wing where all of the royal guests were staying. Two burly men in the customary blue and white armor of Brenton. They averted their eyes from Aric’s nude body.
Aric nodded to them. “Make sure she gets back safely.”
Once Pria turned the corner, he closed his door and hurried to change into his clothes.
If he was quick enough, he could head to the tavern in the Lower City for a mug of mead.
Aric quickly pulled on his brown leather pants and a white blouse. With his pants tucked into his boots, he was prepared to blend in with the common folk. He pulled his long hair into a sloppy ponytail and put a cap on.
The night was still new for Aric, despite those in the palace preparing for bed. They’d all wake up early for the last day of tournaments, but Aric didn’t need a full night’s sleep.
He needed excitement.
And possibly another girl to keep him warm for the night.
The night air was fresh and slightly cool as Aric stepped from the side doors of the palace.
He paused when he saw a guarded procession of Seers entering the palace courtyard.
Lifting a brow, his attention went to the female Seer with the bright eyes.
Even in the pale light of the moon, he was astounded by her delicate features. No Seer he had ever seen looked like the maiden before him. Standing only a few feet away, she would hear him if he spoke to her.
What would he say to her, and why would he try?
Seers were chaste and committed to service. There was no point trying to have a conversation with them other than to be lectured on the gods and their history.
But when she glanced at him, he felt the wind change. Something eerie was hidden in eyes. He felt it in his soul that she was special.
She held his gaze for a bit longer than was acceptable for strangers, but Aric didn’t mind. He could revel in her beauty until the end of time.
When she broke their gaze, Aric let out a slow breath.
What had come over him? He turned to continue heading to the Lower City. Brows furrowed, he put his hands in his pocket.
Somehow he felt as if he knew her.
Aric glanced back and nearly lost his footing when he saw her gazing back at him, a glow in her eyes.
A glow?
He shook his head as he left the palace grounds.
It must have been the lighting.
ARIC STOOD AT
the center of the grand arena, waiting for the match to begin. The ancient stone coliseum was in excellent condition, as stunning as when it was created thousands of years ago. Comprised of nearly a hundred aisles it reached to the clouds.
Gods had once fought in that same arena.
Being in line for the throne, Aric had always felt the pressure to be the best. The hundreds of spectators cheered him on when he drew his sword.
The crowd wanted a show. He’d give them one that would go down in history.
With his red and gold shield in one hand, his sword in the other, Aric watched as his mother and father arrived.
The cheers rose to a thundering roar as Queen Nevah and King Lavi entered the coliseum.
Aric looked across the platform at his opponent, a female warrior from the western kingdom, Brenton.
Princess Pria watched him, a cocky grin on her beautiful face. She winked at him and turned her attention to his parents.
If they only knew how sneaky their
innocent
daughter was.
There was no way that he could let that woman beat him. He hid a grin of his own. He’d beat her and bed her again later that evening.
Good plan
.
The cheering continued as his parents walked hand-in-hand to the balcony that overlooked the coliseum.
In a slim white gown, Queen Nevah still looked as young as a woman of her late twenties. Aric and she shared the same pale blue eyes and blond hair. Her hair was braided and twisted into a bun that had a golden comb stuffed into it to hold her hair in place.
King Lavi was a stark contrast to his beautiful wife. With olive skin, dark brown hair, and a large muscular frame, he towered over the queen. His thin brown eyes cast a look across the crowd.
He made a slight gesture with his large hand for everyone to quiet and the spectators sat in their seats in obedience.
“Good citizens of Rhene,” Queen Nevah said, loud enough for all to hear her, yet with a voice as soft as a child’s. “As part of our final battle of this day of celebration, the king and I are pleased to present you our son, Prince Aric the Valiant and Brenton’s own, Princess Pria the Swift.”
Pria the Swift
, Aric thought to himself with a laugh. She had indeed made a name for herself in the arena before arriving for their annual winter festival. He grinned, remembering her moans as he pleasured her just the night before.
The crowd clapped and shouted encouragement to the young warriors.
Aric loved the attention, and soaked it all in.
The crowd’s cheer elevated as the princess pulled free her sword and readied them with a slash through the air with in a sharp whistling sound. Her black hair was pulled into a long ponytail, her silver light armor glittering in the sunlight.
His grin vanished. It was time to get serious.
Aric became focused as he readied his sword and shield.
King Lavi took a step back, and raised a hand.
“Begin!”
Pria ran at him with such speed that Aric was taken aback.
Aric raised a brow as he held his golden shield against her tirade of strikes. He staggered backwards at her surprising strength. The loud crashing of her two-handed sword resonated in his ears.
Pria may have been slim, but it was apparent that she was composed of pure muscle.
He quickly found himself fighting as seriously as he had against all of the other assembled princes from the surrounding kingdoms. The winter festival was one of the few events that kept the kingdoms from war.
It soon became obvious that this show was about more than entertainment for Pria. Aric saw the determination and intensity in her gaze.
Pria fought as if her life depended on it. She was skilled beyond her years and the clashing of their weapons could be heard well by the spectators on the higher levels. Sparks flew all around them from the impact of their steel against steel.
Aric swallowed, sweat slinging off his forehead. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he also didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the entire kingdom. He took a deep breath and held his sword a little tighter.
His thin eyes went from pale blue, to a silver glow.
He saw Pria lose a little of her color when she saw the glow in his eyes, and her stance changed to one of defense.
“Not fair,” Pria said. She wiped a fallen strand of hair from her face and readied herself.
“Come now, Aric,” Queen Nevah shouted from her spot above the battle. “Show the Brentons what real power looks like.”
Aric chanced a glance up at her, and Pria made a quick kick at his legs. He grabbed her leg and tossed her across the coliseum. She flew yards away and landed on her rear.
Aric frowned up at his mother. She hid a grin as she folded her hands before her. He may have been a cocky young man, but he was against an unfair fight.
Pria wasn’t a descendant of the gods that used to walk their world. With only a small part of the bloodline, Aric had certain abilities.
Unsure of whether he should heed his mother’s command, or trust his own judgement, Aric watched Pria push herself to her feet. Instead of taking a defensive stance, he relaxed his shoulders and lowered his weapon.
Pria paused her approach when she realized what he was doing.
“Have it your way,” she said.
She charged at him with all of her speed and strength.
Aric sighed. He hated to do this to the princess.
Ripples of power flooded his body and he closed his eyes. The crowd gasped, as Aric’s shield knocked Pria’s sword from her hand.
All sounds faded and all light went with it. Aric felt as if he was alone.
No one knew what it felt like to just vanish in plain sight. Apparently the power skipped his father and grandfather’s generation, reappearing in Aric, making him a nothing more than a prized possession.
Aric took in a breath. He saw Pria standing there with a look of fear on her face. She swirled around, searching for him. She scrambled to pick up her sword and resorted to slashing at nothing but air.
In this moment, she was the enemy, and for as long as his power lasted, she was defenseless against him. The wind swept in from the open ceiling. The sky was a dull yellow, as the sun shone its face. Such was rare in these times. The golden rays spilled on Aric as he closed his eyes to the warmth on his cheeks.
It was as if the gods spoke to him in that moment.
Aric enjoyed that moment of solitude. It was a rare occasion to have a moment of peace, and ironic that he found it during a sword fight.
Aric’s arms felt heavy and there was a pressing pain in the forefront of his head. He could feel his energy draining. It started to flee his body with each breath and step he took.
He wanted this to be over.
“Here,” Aric whispered to Pria, giving her a clue as to where he was. She spun on him and brought her sword down across his. Relief flooded her face.
It didn’t last long. He knocked her down to the ground and pinned her on her back.
In the end Aric had his knee in Pria's chest, his sword at her smooth chestnut-colored neck. He reappeared and she closed her eyes. She worked to control her breathing.
“Bastard,” she shouted at him.
That stung.
“So this is why I was called out here,” Pria said once she opened her eyes once again. “All of my years of training, and you made a fool of me.”
Aric stood and held a hand out to help her up.
Pria glared at him. She came to her feet and turned on her heels to walk away.
She didn’t even glance back at him.
Disappointed, Aric watched her leave.
So much for bedding her that again that evening.