by C. M. Owens
Her eyes flick to a very familiar man near the front—Dale Sterling—as his lips twitch under her steady appraisal.
“And some of you are here just because I like you.”
A few rounds of laughter ring out, and Dale winks at her as he crosses his arms over his chest. The fucker is wearing chainmail and non-legging bottoms. He’s a level-sixteen queen’s guard? Seriously? He had to cheat to get that far.
Harley’s face turns more serious as someone hands her some really ornate white staff thingy. I don’t know what it is. Level-two squires don’t get to see the queen in the game, and there’s a lot of information to absorb.
She lifts the staff, and everyone makes that unified noise again.
“Between game rounds, we’ll have some out-of-character fun. During game rounds, you’re required to stay in character or you’ll be sent to the tent grounds to keep from stealing the magic from anyone else,” she says as my eyes begin scanning the crowd for the girl I’m wearing leggings to impress.
Again, another statement I never thought I’d utter.
“Squires have been assigned to princes or princesses based on careful compatibility screenings, since we have very few true level-twos here,” she goes on, that part directed toward me, even though she never looks this way.
“In one hour, we’ll convene for our first round. The details of your first mission will be delivered by your assigned scribes. Take note: if you are among the few here who can’t speak Azrayan, you will be considered mute for the game rounds, so don’t break character.”
I feel like that’s directly pointed at me and possibly Dale, since he bristles and gives her a narrowed glare as she grins.
“Use this hour wisely to plan and strategize with your teams. Your princes and princesses will be waiting for you beyond the tented land,” she goes on. “And may the light serve your cause!”
“Hovehlah!” they all shout in unison while pumping two fists in the air.
I’ve heard that word on the game. I can’t remember what the hell it means though, and the helpful subtitles aren’t a thing in real life.
With just a little nudge, her horse takes off, and Harley rides off toward the tent grounds again.
Everyone starts running, and I just stare, finding myself at the back of the pack before long. Despite all the crazed commotion, I stand still. Apparently, in a bustling crowd like this, you stand out if you stand still.
Dale Sterling’s eyes collide with mine when I look over again, finding him standing still as well, and he levels me with a glare.
I’m finally going to get hit by a Sterling. Fuck my day.
“Nice tights,” he calls as he starts walking off.
“They’re leggings,” I remind him as I jog to catch up.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asks like he’s too tired to deal with me right now.
“I figured that much would be obvious,” I point out, smirking when he makes a frustrated sound.
“This is serious to Britt. She’s spent months working on her numerous outfits. You’re more of a novice to this than even I am.”
“I spent twenty-eight hours making it to level-two because that game is too fucking smart for me,” I say as we continue walking down the trail, the only two lagging behind.
“They have an actual language. Harley hired a team of world-class linguists to create the Azrayan language. Half the time, you’re going to be mute. This is a pointless waste of your time, and an unnecessary distraction to Britt, who already has a horde of groupies around her tent.”
I pause, idly wondering if I’ll be assigned to her tent or not. I will owe Harley for life if so. But then his words start to register.
“Wait, what? What do you mean groupies?”
“You’re stalking Azrayan royalty. You have your groupies. She has hers. Actually, she has a lot more than you; hers are just scattered across the world,” he continues. “The vast majority of her social media following is game related. Not Sterling Shore related,” he adds as we start weaving our way through the tents. “Harley started helping her cultivate a following the day she hired her, and Britt holds the coveted record for quickest, non-programmer ascent in the game.”
A small smile graces my lips when I finally spot Britt just for a split second, seeing her red hair in intricate braids that show off her very realistic pointed ears.
A body steps in front of the little bit of her face I could see, blocking her from me.
Just as I start to head there, Dale grabs my arm very firmly at my elbow, and I turn, looking at his cold, steely eyes.
“Careful. Be very careful. I don’t think you realize the damage you did.”
I…don’t know what to say to that. All it does is annoy me that he’s still holding me back from finding Britt.
I clear my throat, glancing down.
“Yeah. I’m being careful. I’m easing off when she needs me to, but if I don’t push her, she’ll stop looking back completely. It’s what she does. I can’t let her do that to me.”
“Thirty minute warning,” Harley calls.
Dale doesn’t release me, and I don’t move.
He drops my arm and gestures around us.
“You’re about to see what a broken heart does to someone like Britt. Please remember when flashing your camera in her face to get some ‘genuine emotion’ that you’re the reason behind the sad eyes and practiced smile this time,” he tells me, definitely taking a jab.
I deserve it. I really have talked a lot of stupid shit about them.
“I’ve had some time to reflect,” I assure him tightly.
He releases me completely.
“Is this where you tell me I’m not good enough for her?” I ask him. “Because I’m still working on that.”
He snorts derisively.
“I don’t get to make that call. She already reasoned how right you were with your demands, and hated herself for not—”
“I know I fucked up, but I’d rather not talk about it right now. Another time?”
He cracks his neck to the side before giving me a slightly annoyed look.
“You’re the first person she’s allowed herself to care about who has walked away from her since the day she came to live with Dane. Remember that too.”
“Form a proper assembly!” Harley calls in warning, as I stare at Dale for a minute. “Form a proper assembly!”
“My relationship with her has to be different from yours—for obvious reasons—and I know where I fucked up. I should have just pushed and backed off. Then pushed and backed off again. You get the picture. But challenging Britt on any level is a win for me. I’ve spent three months putting a lot of thought into this.”
I step toward him, feeling slightly more confident again.
His lips thin as he glares at me. It’d suck to be punched by him when I’m wearing his clothes.
“I really wanted to hit you today,” he says like he’s annoyed with me.
I pat him on the shoulder. “I know,” I tell him before turning and walking away.
It’s been a shit time of getting here, but it all immediately feels worth it when I work my way closer, finding a gap to squeeze through to the front as Britt finishes up whatever she’s saying.
“What if they come in from the right?” a dude with a larger-than-necessary smile asks, drawing her attention to him before she can even notice me.
I notice Dale going in the opposite direction, and I finally glance around to see something…happening behind me. Dark tents are dropping down on top of the lighter ones, and men are scurrying around to make the change.
Wait…this isn’t the same tent section I was in earlier. Where did those black skull torches come from?
Why is there ominous drumming going on?
Everyone else starts looking around as well, and excited chatter starts flitting through the air. I turn back around in time to Britt walking away in an outfit similar to the one I saw her in that day in the park.
Sh
it.
I make a move to follow her, but she disappears into a tent that immediately gets blocked by two dudes in chainmail. Before I can attempt to figure out what’s going on, fireworks burst into the air, and a screen that wasn’t hanging just above the tents before suddenly lights up.
A collective breath is inhaled by almost everyone around me as I look around, trying to figure out what magic show is about to go down.
Loud, suspense-thumping music begins a slow build as the game I barely understand starts running a trailer on the screen. The words in the game’s language, so I don’t understand a single one.
I catch a glimpse of digital avatars before the glare of the moon interrupts it again.
“It’s happening. It’s really happening. Oh, my sister is going to hate me even worse than she already does,” a girl says from close to me as she sways, eyes on the screen.
I have no idea what’s going on, because that glare is terrible, and cutting off half the screen from my angle. What I can see makes no sense. It’s all swirling dark magic and a convulsing avatar’s mummy-wrapped body.
I’m not as advanced of a player as all the rest of them. Obviously. Have to start somewhere.
I swear, some people even squeal like they can’t believe their dreams are coming true, and it’s driving me insane with the suspense.
“What’s happening?” I finally break down and ask the chick who is dancing in place.
“Azraya is about to have two queens, and it’ll be a whole new branch of the game,” she says as she sways again. “The pure Valkyrie princess has been poisoned and consumed in darkness by the forbidden elven tree thought to have been lost with the eradication of Valhalla.”
It’s literally like learning an entire new world, and I have no idea what she just said even in English. This video is all in that language, which just makes me feel all the dumber.
“Everyone wondered how Harley would be able to rebrand herself with a partner, and she’s so creative that we knew it’d be epic. This is everything,” she says like she’s swooning.
I blink a few times when spotlights suddenly blare down from above us, and the entire camp erupts into cheers on both sides of the trees, like there’s a separate section.
A speaker pops above us before a man’s voice comes over it. My phone starts buzzing like it’s possessed. I regret signing up for so many alerts related to Britt, because I can practically feel the battery draining as it continues to vibrate in my hand.
Apparently there’s an English version of that trailer that just went live as well.
“The camp you’re in now is the camp for whose queen you’ll loyally serve for the entirety of this rare retreat,” the soothing, unknown male voice says. “The flags will be raised in times of war, and lowered when it’s time to break character.”
The voice continues to ramble on about rules and such, while I try to catch up to what’s going on. I pull on the black garb someone shoves at me like I’m being babied. Everyone starts grabbing weaponry that has been lined up, but my eyes trail to the girl who has changed and is walking out of the tent.
She’s wearing a black dress meant to bring men to their knees and heavy black eye makeup that really should not be so hot.
The second her gaze lands on mine, she freezes and her eyes widen. I can visibly see her fighting with herself not to dive back in her tent.
Just what the actual hell is going on around here?
“What are you doing here?” she asks in a surprised tone as she blinks rapidly to see if I’ll magically go away.
Her dress looks almost exactly like Harley’s, and it’s really fucking sexy next to her red hair that’s still intricately braided along the sides and woven into some big curls in the back.
I open and close my mouth a few times, eyes dipping to the warrior-queen slits that ride up her thighs. I know it’s meant for practical combat purposes—though there will be no actual physical altercations and it’s all for show—but…fuck me.
My eyes rake up and down her a few more times, trying to remember what the hell I was going to say, as she comes closer so she can talk quieter…presumably.
“This is a really serious event for Harley,” she says as she glances around. “And I have a lot to do.”
“I’m your squire,” I tell her idly as I reach out to feel one of her soft curls, my thumb brushing her neck. “At least I think I am.”
She doesn’t try to pull away, so I step closer.
“I’ll tell you how many hours it took me to get almost to level two whenever you need a laugh,” I add.
She almost smiles, but manages to stop herself.
“I’m going to be the guy giving you your paintball arrows that are so fucking cool—”
“Harley’s idea,” she interrupts. “The arrows, I mean. She does them at a lot of her…”
Her words trail off, and she just stares at me for a second like she’s lost her train of thought when my thumb rubs up the side of her neck, gently stroking there. Subtly pulling her closer, my gaze stays on hers.
“I kept your toothbrush,” she says very randomly, catching me so off guard that I just…don’t know what to say.
“I didn’t do anything unsanitary with it,” she feels the need to add.
I feel my smile spreading before I can stop myself, as she shakes her head and carries on.
“I kept it because you had another one and would just presume I threw that one out. It was the only thing of yours left behind in the house, and I kept it.”
“I never moved yours. It’s still sitting in the holder on the sink,” I tell her as I step closer again.
“That’s unsanitary,” she immediately fires back. “I put yours in a sealed bag.”
My grin only grows, but she abruptly pulls back, clearing her throat as she starts backing away.
“I have to go,” she says as she turns and starts walking quickly toward the area where everyone is gathering.
I spot Harley walking toward me very quickly, and I dart another glance around.
“Do you see what this is?” she asks as she comes to stand beside me.
“Yeah,” I tell her, watching Britt as she moves toward a solid black horse off to the side. “I wrote a few sad songs in the same amount of time she created a gothic branch of the universe and became the dark queen.”
She nods like she’s impressed that I’ve caught on.
“It’s genius in so many business directions I can’t list them all. It’s the perfect way to rebrand us. It’s going to make us a lot of money and generate some really good buzz. The players will decide which queen is winning at all times, so that reduces our involvement and frees up so much of our time.”
She sighs like she regrets she has to add the but I hear coming.
“But it’s breaking my heart, and it’s also really hard to keep up with her current pace. She’s speeding toward a burn-out because she’s avoiding her pain by throwing herself into work. She needs a life, and you didn’t hurt her on purpose. That’s why I gave you the invitation.”
She gives me a supportive clap on the back.
“Fix it, please. The sooner, the better,” she adds before walking away.
“Hey, what am I supposed to do for Britt? I thought I was her squire,” I call as I chase after her.
“Sorry. I lied. Even though we let the big secret leak, we kept up the charade that Britt would still be a princess. I’m known for flair. You’re going to be with Prince Norven. Not that it really matters.”
I don’t even get a chance to ask questions, because she hauls herself up on her horse, and rides away like it’s perfectly fucking normal.
I’m still working on adjusting to how hardcore rich people roll.
At the end of the day, this is just fun for her, and she uses business as an excuse to play like a boss.
It’s like hearing Vince explain why having a stripper pole installed was a practical business expense.
I’d probably enjoy it, if I had any ide
a what the hell is going on right now and who this ‘prince’ I’m now assigned to like cattle is.
“Goggles on!” someone shouts.
I have no idea what the next words are, because they’re in that language. The crowd, who is apparently way more abridged on what’s going on than I am, erupts into a frenzy just as I’m pelted in the leg with a paintball arrow.
It hurts a lot less than being hit with a paintball gun.
It’s not a kill shot, but I still have to run with a limp. I make it five steps before I’m hit with an arrow to the chest and have to drop.
At least I know the rules to this part of all this, but…now I have to hope no one steps on my ‘corpse.’ I just thought the costume was my biggest setback of the day.
Chapter 40
BRITT
“It’s not as much fun being back here as it is being out in all the action, is it?” Harley asks me as the primeval battle rages on well outside of our hidden tent in the woods.
“It’s fun not knowing who’s winning, though,” I tell her as I anxiously tap my foot, wondering if Base is already gone.
This is so far outside of his comfort zone. He really shouldn’t be here right now. He’s going to ask a lot of uncomfortable questions. I could see it in his eyes.
“You say not to meddle,” I very reasonably point out to her. “You always tell everyone not to meddle.”
“I’m only a hypocrite because I haven’t had any sleep for three months, and I love you, but you have to deal with this at some point. You’re too smart; people won’t let you play dumb,” she says as her eyes flutter shut.
She snaps them open again, and then takes a sip of coffee as she yawns and puts it back down. “I like to sneak in and play sometimes at some of the smaller ones. They usually don’t recognize me, since my avatar is the only pictures I use for profiles and no one really cares what I look like, most of the time.”
Her head lulls to the side as she falls asleep mid-ramble, because we have put in a lot of hours to get this done quickly. I was tired too…until Base Masters showed up as a squire.
