by Nora Cobb
No wonder she fucking hated me.
“But,” she finally said, turning to look at me. “Here I am. You know the one thing that I learned that stood out over everything else from my time being in an orphanage? It was that no one else was going to look out for me. I could talk until I was blue in the face and no one would believe me, save my current case worker, I guess, but even she could only do so much. I just quit trying to report things, honestly, and learned how to stand up for myself. So yes, Royce, I want to learn sword fighting. I want to learn everything you can teach me so that I don’t ever forget that I can defend myself.”
I wanted to be the person that taught her. “I will teach you everything I know,” I said hoarsely, wanting to go to America and find everyone who had ever made her feel like she wasn’t worth it and run my sword through them.
Never had I ever felt the need to be someone’s protector before, but I wanted to be hers.
She wiped her hands on her pants. “All right then. Where do we start?”
“Not with the sword,” I said abruptly, pushing it aside.
Anna’s eyes narrowed. “You just said you are going to help me, Royce.”
“I am, pauper,” I answered, coming up beside her. “But first, you need to know how to protect yourself if you don’t get the jump to throw the punch first.”
Realization dawned on her face. “Okay.”
I positioned myself, bracing my hips before I raised my fists. “Your stance needs to be wide, but keep your hips solidly over your feet or you will end up on your ass.”
She mimicked my stance and I gave it a once-over. “Pretty good.”
“What next?”
“Throw your fist like this,” I said, throwing a punch. “You should try to put your entire body behind it. It’s not about how big you are for the power; it’s about trying to make certain you do it right.”
“How did you learn all this?” Anna asked as she threw a few punches.
“Same as you,” I answered, frowning at her technique. “Keep your elbow up and don’t drop it when you throw the punch.”
She adjusted her arm. “You fought?”
“All the damn time. Just because you went to private schools doesn’t mean you don’t get into fights all the time.” I had done my fair share of fighting too, trying to defend my family’s name or honor. What had happened between Max and me was a common occurrence in schools growing up.
“Interesting,” she said, punching the air. “And sword fighting? When did you start that?”
“When I was ten,” I answered honestly, letting her have a small piece of my past. “Fencing is how I started. I used to participate in competitions and shit. It was an easy transition to swords.” It was a dying art, which was why I had started the underground sword-fighting club. “Have you ever seen a sword fight, pauper?”
She shook her head and I grinned. Well, she was about to. “Will you come somewhere with me tonight?”
Anna eyed me for a moment. “Yes,” she finally said. “I will.”
**
I met Anna at the end of the senior hallway a few hours later, grabbing her hand before she could protest. “You’re late.”
“I’m sorry,” she said breathlessly as I raced down the hall. “I couldn’t get away from Johanna.”
I didn’t answer, taking a series of twists and turns before I halted. “What you are about to see is very private to me,” I told her, seeing her eyes widen briefly. “I have to know I can trust you, Anna.”
She stared at me. “You called me Anna, Royce.”
I gave her a sharp nod. I had debated all day whether or not to bring her here, finally deciding that I wanted her to trust me and see that I could trust her as well. “Yeah, this is important to me.”
“You can trust me,” she said softly, giving my hand a squeeze. Hell, I had forgotten I was holding it.
“Keep your mouth shut and stay close,” I growled as I pushed open the door, not sure if it was a good idea to bring her here.
The sounds of swords striking against each other filled the air and I tucked Anna behind me as the door shut, my eyes adjusting to the dim lighting.
There was a small crowd tonight, mostly juniors and seniors, with the beer and liquor flowing freely amongst them. The ring took up most of the room, causing everyone to pack into every nook and crevice around it that they could find.
I nodded to the guy monitoring the fighting and the money tonight, grinning as I saw the stack of bills tucked in the envelope. With these rich-ass kids, one hundred bucks, or euros depending on who was paying, was nothing for a good sword fight and free-flowing booze. After paying Isauros off, I used the rest to pay for the booze.
But never had I ever brought a girl in here with me.
I chose to put Anna in front of me so that she could see what was going on.
Well, that was what I was telling myself anyway.
My hands found her hips and I felt her jolt in response at my touch. “Easy,” I said in her ear, pulling her against me. “I’m just giving you a better view. See that guy over there? He’s ranked number two this season.”
“Who’s number one?”
I chuckled, my fingers flexing at her waist. “Who do you think, pauper?”
She laughed. “Full of yourself, aren’t you?”
I leaned in until she could feel my breath on her cheek. “For good reason, pauper.”
One of the juniors squeezed in front of us and I pulled Anna flush to my body, groaning as I did so.
God, she felt too good against me like this.
“What are they doing?”
Snapping out of my leering thoughts, I focused on the ring and walked her through every step of the fight, pointing out the high points, and was surprised when she seemed genuinely interested in everything I was saying. When Ian nicked his opponent with his sword, the match was called.
“They actually draw blood?”
I heard the surprise in Anna’s voice. “Yeah, they do. We don’t run each other through or anything, but it is until first blood is drawn.”
She turned and stared at me. “You’ve been cut before in these tournaments?”
There was genuine concern in her voice. “How else do you think I became number one?”
To keep her from asking any more questions, I ushered her out quickly before anyone could stop me. “What did you think, pauper?” I asked, changing the subject.
Anna looked over at me as we walked up the hall. “You started all that, didn’t you, Royce?”
I shrugged, her excitement threading through me. “I did. Isauros hates it but she doesn’t have a problem taking some of the proceeds, so—”
“It’s amazing,” she interrupted, her eyes sparkling. “I’ve never seen it in person before!”
I drew her to the side, ignoring the others as they passed. “Really?”
Anna nodded. “I really want to learn how to handle a sword, and who better than to learn from the best?”
I grinned. Damn, I liked her. “You’re stroking my ego, pauper.”
She pulled away, throwing a smile over her shoulder as she walked away. “As long as it’s working, Royce.”
I watched her go, shaking my head with that grin still on my face. I would teach Anna how to sword fight, and I was going to enjoy every fucking minute of it.
Chapter 9
Anna
It was a week before I saw Royce again.
I went to my classes, hung out with Johanna, and tried not to think about the king that was slowly opening up to me. He hadn’t texted, he hadn’t sought me out, and it was driving me crazy.
I wanted to tell him that I liked spending time with him, even if he still called me pauper. Royce was surprising the heck out of me at every turn and I really didn’t know what to do about it.
In fact, I was a little nervous about my time with Royce. I was having far too much fun with him, honestly, and it scared me a little. He wasn’t supposed to be like this. I was supposed t
o hate him.
After, all he was a king.
Sighing, I drew up my legs to my chest, resting my chin on my knee. I was in one of the alcoves, attempting to do some homework so I could keep up with my classes, but I was spending too much time thinking about Royce and what he had shared with me last time we were together. He had asked if he could trust me and I wanted him to think that he could.
I wanted to trust him.
The problem? Royce was a king. I had learned my lesson about trusting a king before.
Yet here I was, starting to have some pretty interesting feelings for another king.
“Ugh,” I said, resting my forehead on my knee. For some reason, I couldn’t stay away from any of them. Was that the royal blood in me?
Did I like being treated like I mattered, only to be cast aside for some bigger plan?
Well, I sure didn’t want to let Royce go just yet. He was the complete opposite of Arthur: cocky and full of himself, unapologetic and crass. He called me pauper, though I was starting to grow used to his nickname.
Arthur had been far too nice at first, and I hadn’t known what to think of him. At least with Royce I knew where I stood.
I thought I did until last week, when he had pulled me against him, and my body had reacted thusly. Did I want Royce? I wanted to say no, but I would be lying to myself.
I did want Royce. I was curious about him, about what made him tick and what he was like outside of the crowd of followers that he had garnered.
I had started getting glimpses of that king.
My cell buzzed and I grabbed it from the bed, unable to keep from smiling as I saw a text from the object of my thoughts.
So, he hadn’t forgotten about me after all.
**
A few hours later, I hurried down the hall, taking a familiar path to the training room where I had met Royce the first time. I had dressed for training, choosing a pair of yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt to ward off the chill that had settled in the castle. Under that I had a thin tank top that would allow for agile movement during training.
I wasn’t going to lie; I was excited about the prospect of seeing Royce and training. After weeks of Arthur’s torturous training on etiquette, I was happy for the change in scenery for a while.
Slowing my steps, I touched my high ponytail before walking through the doorway, finding Royce’s back to me as he did some pull-ups on the bar in the corner. I silently crept in, watching as he finished his last set. His back and shoulders were chiseled with thick, corded muscle, though it was not hard to see the thin scars marking his skin.
Blood marks, from his sword fighting.
I gasped, unable to help it, and he dropped from the bar, turning to face me. His stomach was also dotted with them, though it didn’t take away from his gorgeousness.
“What?”
Realizing I was staring, I looked away. “Sorry.” My cheeks had to be on fire.
Royce came into my direct view a few moments later and I was relieved that he had put on a shirt. “You ready to start?”
“Sure.”
Royce walked over to the wall and selected two swords, far different than the one he had shown me the last time. “These are training swords,” he explained, handing one to me. “We will start with them.”
I took the sword, testing its weight in my hand. “It’s light.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, that’s the point.” He moved into a stance before me, one that I had seen when he was fencing. “You have to stay on the balls of your feet at all times. Sword fighting is about agility as much as it is about swinging this sword.”
Okay, so we were all business right now. I mimicked his stance, attempting to get used to the feel of the sword in my hand. It was hard to do both at the same time.
“Lesson number two,” Royce said lightly, tossing the sword from hand to hand. “Don’t overthink anything. You need to clear your mind, pauper, or you will miss a key move that could cost you your life.” Royce then grinned. “Or a cut.”
“How many cuts do you have?” I asked as I practiced my stance.
“I lost count at one hundred,” he answered honestly, moving into another stance.
I followed him, my muscles starting to scream from the unusual activity. “That’s crazy, Royce.”
He gave me a shrug, pointing his sword in my direction. “Grip the hilt tightly in your dominant hand, Anna. Make sure that you keep your thumb tucked or you will break it.”
I did as he instructed, touching my sword to his. “I’m ready.”
Royce grinned. “Not so fast. We are starting slow.”
For the next hour, Royce showed me how to do basic sparring, the sword jarring my arm with every clash. I knew I was going to feel this in the morning but honestly, I was having way too much fun to care. Royce was proving to be a very patient teacher, really good at helping redirect me when I did something wrong.
After a little while, I was meeting his moves match for match, my swings becoming surer as I gained confidence in what I was doing.
“Good,” Royce said as I parried another one of his thrusts, sliding my sword over his. “Keep your sword out in front at all times. If they charge you or start to push you backwards, come at them again. Don’t let them back you into a corner.”
“You’re really good at teaching,” I commented as I fought his advance.
His hair fell over his forehead, sweat dripping down his face. “I am really going to miss this about the academy.”
The confession caught me off guard. “Then don’t stop after graduation.”
Royce chuckled. “I have to. My father already has a shitload of work waiting on me the moment I go back home.”
I blocked another attack, biting my lip as I tried to best him, to find his weakness. “I guess it sucks to be you.”
He got closer and before I knew it, I was flat on my back, his sword at my throat. “Lesson three. Don’t engage in any conversation with your enemy. He will only distract you.”
I pushed away his sword with my own, distracting him long enough to hook my foot around his ankle. “Same to you, Royce.”
I pulled hard and he went down, grabbing a hold of my leg as I tried to recover. Both swords went clattering harmlessly on the mat, but I fell on top of Royce, my body colliding hard with his. He rolled over immediately, trapping me against his hard body and the mat. I could feel every hard inch of him and when he looked at me, I didn’t know what to do.
Especially when his lips collided with mine.
For a moment, I froze, feeling his lips against mine. Royce was kissing me.
Royce was kissing me!
My body reacted before my mind did, my arms gripping his hard shoulders as my lips molded to his in a feverish pitch. Royce’s lips moved over mine expertly, coaxing my mouth open with a gasp so that he could slip his tongue inside.
A moan escaped me, my hands thrusting into his hair as he ravaged my mouth, his hand sliding down the length of my body. The movement made my eyes fly open and I pushed Royce off me, scrambling back on the mat to put some distance between us.
Oh my God, I had been kissing Royce like my life depended on it!
“What the hell, Anna?” he said, pulling himself to a seated position.
I brought a shaky hand up to my swollen lips. “You kissed me.”
“Damn right I did and unless I was mistaken, you were kissing me back.”
Well, I couldn’t deny that. I had been kissing him back, very thoroughly at that. “It was a mistake.”
He arched a brow, letting his arms rest on his knee. “Really? You think that, pauper?”
I couldn’t tell him the truth, but no I didn’t think it was a mistake. It had felt right.
Way too right. “I’m kind of still involved with Arthur,” I said lamely.
Royce laughed harshly. “Yeah, and I am destined to be the king of England. You and Arthur haven’t been an item for quite some time.”
“That doesn’t mean we aren’t
going to be for the future,” I shot back, attempting to hide behind my words. I was so embarrassed that the kiss had made me want more and only if I could get it from Royce himself.
Dammit. I was lusting after my one-time enemy.
Royce shook his head. “I don’t believe you, pauper. Arthur was not the man for you, and you know it. He was just the one who got to you first. Remember, we were all supposed to share you until he went rogue.”
