Page 21 of The Princess's Pet

“And you think yourself a capable King?” she asked, and I heard derision clearly in her voice.

“Perhaps, Princess. Would you wager a date, if I win our spar today?” he asked, confidence dripping from his every word, and the way he lifted his arm wide as he spoke.

“And if I win?” she asked, and I almost choked, I couldn’t believe she would entertain such a wager.

“Hmm.” He thought, rubbing his smooth chin. “If you win, I will allow you the pick of my prized stallions,” he suggested.

“The Halvorsen warhorses are the best in the world,” the Princess mused. “We have a deal, Lord Halvorsen,” she agreed. My stomach twisted uncomfortably.

They moved to the red sparring area that the Princess had pointed out to me. They bowed briefly before straightening, and the older man that I assumed was the tutor for this practical class yelled in a language I didn’t recognise, and the spar began.

Metal clashed against metal, over and over. It seemed to me that they were evenly matched. Even with Lord Halvorsen’s larger size, the Princess did not seem to flinch or struggle when he brought his sword down heavily towards her, and she blocked with her own. It was difficult to watch the Princess fight. I found myself looking away more than once.

It seemed that there would be no victor, but as Lord Halvorsen appeared to be tiring, the Princess did not. He stumbled backward, blocking a heavy high blow towards his shoulder, and before he could recover, the Princess dropped, her long leg swiping out, and sweeping Lord Halvorsen off his feet. She held her sword to his throat in the next moment.

The smile on the Princess’s lips and the way her breath came slightly heavier, a few strands of hair falling from her pleat, and I wouldn’t have minded the Princess’s sword at my throat, if it meant I was the one she was looking down on.

“You owe me a spectacular warhorse, Lord Halvorsen.” The Princess laughed as she let him stand, offering her hand to pull him up.

He chuckled good-naturedly as he accepted her offered hand.

“I should never have doubted your skill, my Royal Highness,” he said, smiling too happily for my liking. “Let me know when you would like to visit my family stables, and you will have your choice pick. There are foals due this summer too, from strong mares and prize stallions,” he added.

“I’ll get in touch,” the Princess replied shortly. “I had hoped for more of a challenge, Lord Halvorsen. You have not proven yourself capable of much and certainly not worthy of being my king,” she chastised, and Lord Halvorsen became crestfallen, a frown marring his handsome face.

“Perhaps not yet, my Royal Highness, I am not discouraged so easily,” he quickly recovered, but there was less confidence in his tone.

The Princess only hummed, turning her back to him dismissively, and I liked the way his face flushed in response.

Flynn came forward and the Princess handed over the sword she used.

She walked towards me, hips swaying with her steps.

“Did you enjoy the spar?” she asked when she reached me, removing her gloves and handing them to me.

“I liked the end, Ma’am,” I told her.

“Do you mean that you found the sparring so uninteresting that you were happy for it to end?” she questioned.

“I liked watching you knock that cocky Lord on his backside, Ma’am,” I clarified, and she grinned knowingly at me.

“Come, I need to get changed; we can eat at home,” she said, and I followed her closely out of the loud and dangerous room, trusting that the Princess would guide me safely past the others currently sparring.

8. The Princess Speaks

Once back in her rooms, she led me to the bedroom and opened the closet. “The clothes here to the bottom right are yours. I’m going for a shower,” she explained, before, very much like in the changing stall at the Academy, she began to undress, without any care for my presence there.

“Okay, Ma’am,” I said as I averted my gaze and left the room, my mouth going dry at the expanse of her hips and navel that I had briefly seen when her shirt rode up with her arms.

I got a glass from a cabinet and poured a glass of water, making sure to keep my eyeline away from the bathroom and bedroom door, as I heard the Princess walking around and then the sound of the shower.

As the Princess showered, I looked around the living/kitchen space more closely. I hadn’t allowed myself to explore the space, though I was very much curious. It was the Princess’s home while she studied at the Academy, and while I had concluded that it was also where I would be staying, I still felt a little guilty, like I was invading another person’s privacy.

My main target of curiosity was the tall but narrow bookshelf hidden in the corner near the entrance door. It was packed full of books, overflowing with some smaller books lying stacked acrossthe top of others, with no space on the actual shelf for them to take a place.

My fingers ran over the spines, and I read the titles. It seemed the Princess was enamoured with history, but the books that lined the shelves weren’t histories of times and places and wars, but histories of people, individual people. Some titles included names I had heard before, famous rulers, but there were also titles with names of characters I recognised from myth and legend. I was more a romance girl myself when it came to choosing a book to read.

I was engrossed in simply inspecting the titles and covers of the books, not really looking for anything to read, but wanting to know more about the Princess who I was irrevocably tied to.

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