Page 5 of Crown of Hearts
“Yes, how would you ever get along without bossing me around all the time?”
I could tell he was getting frustrated. I wasn’t fond of the idea of meeting with the Darwicks, but Rhen was right: they were a powerful family, and if they were not my allies, then I’d better keep my enemies closer.
“Careful now, sir.” I turned and started walking back to the palace doors. “It is a queen you’re addressing.”
“Yes, it is.” Rhen replied with mild satisfaction, at what I presumed to be hope that I would finally step into my role.
Chapter 2
Cai
“You’re not yourself this morning.” Thatcher swung his fist towards my left cheek.
I ducked and barely managed to avoid getting hit.
“You’re distracted,” my oldest friend and confidant said, with a hint of amusement on his face.
“Am not.” I aimed a punch at him, which he blocked before ramming a fist into my stomach. I gasped, stepping back as the air escaped my lungs. Thatcher huffed out a laugh at my rather incompetent defence.
“Yes, you are. You’re thinking abouther, aren’t you?” He wiggled his eyebrows, holding up both fists to ready himself for another hit.
There was no proper explanation for why we were throwing punches at each other in a sand ring before ten o’clock in the morning. We had been having breakfast when the topic arose of our training days as two ignorant youths. I had an early start preparing for my role as soldier and king, while Thatcher was only too eager for an excuse to knock me on my behind.
He swore on his honour that he had bested me the majority of the time. I swore he was a liar. Next thing we knew, we were fighting in the dirt, just like the old days. The familiarity of the act held a sense of comfort, which is probably why I didn’t want to call it quits just yet, even though I had plenty of responsibilities to attend to today.
I shook off the blow to my torso and put up my fists again. “I’m afraid I don’t know who you’re talking about,” I responded.
“Your lady across the mountains, your forbidden love, the Queen of Everness. What would you like me to call her?” hedrawled out, somewhat dramatically, and I looked Thatcher in the eye.
“I’m not thinking about Lara,” I said. The mere sound of her name made something in my chest ache.
Thatcher shook his head of curly blond locks and smirked at me. “You should see the way your eyes light up when you say her name.”
He was enjoying this way too much.
I kicked behind his knee and tackled him to the ground of the fighting ring, which was just outside the gardens. Though the weather was acceptable, there were few guards on this side of the palace. Usually, they trained during the earlier hours of the morning and then again in the late afternoon. This meant Thatcher and I had the training yard to ourselves, which I had no complaints about. The last thing my men needed to see was their king fighting in the dirt with one of his lords, for no other reason than childish ego.
“Fine, don’t talk about her. I know what you’re thinking in any case.” He shoved me off, hard enough that it caused me to stumble, allowing him to land a kick to my side.
I staggered and pushed myself back into a standing position, just out of his reach. A drop of sweat ran down the side of my brow. I took off my shirt and tossed it outside the ring, needing the distraction to catch my breath. Thatcher used this time to get back up.
“Then you know I’m thinking that I’m about to kick your arse.”
He let out another laugh, and then groaned as I punched his nose. It wasn’t long before a little blood started to drip. Had it not been for his arrogant expression and the multiple bruises that were likely to cover my body, I might have felt bad. Instead, I was somewhat sleep-deprived, distracted by all my duties and obligations, and trying my best not to think aboutElara. Something Thatcher clearly wasn’t interested in helping me with.
I didn’t want to let him know how much it irked me. Didn’t want to let anyone know that I couldn’t seem to shake the feeling of being overwhelmed and that this fight in the ring was the only steam I’d let off for days.
“You can say what you like—” he pinched his nose with a grimace — “but I’ve known you since before we could talk. Don’t for a second fool yourself into believing that I don’t know what you’re thinking.”
He sprang at me, taking me by surprise. Thatcher and I shared roughly the same build and height, which is why most of the time there wasn’t a definite winner when it came to our sparring. Thatcher feigned left and then dashed right with a lunge. He knocked me to the ground and pinned my neck with his arm. Not hard enough to restrict my breathing, but with enough force to keep me down.
“Just admit that I’m a better fighter than you,” he urged. A small line of blood trailed down to his upper lip. I hoped I hadn’t fractured anything seriously.
“I might. But it’s only because I’m the more mature one out of the two of us,” I forced out, tired and slightly sore.
He beamed and sat back in satisfaction, releasing his grip on me. “You know you give up quite easily for someone of your stature.”
Thatcher wiped the blood from his face, and I sat up, trying to catch my breath.
