It was true that I was home more than Father. Even though I escaped the barrier and explored the sea, Malik found me and brought me back much too soon. Therefore, I was mostly in the palace, available to hear petitions and any concerns the people might have. It didn’t mean I enjoyed it, though.
When both Father and I were absent, that responsibility fell to Salvatore, the head member of the king’s council. He was an older and highly irritable male who had the personality of a dried out piece of seaweed.
No…the dry seaweed was more amusing.
“I know what’ll lift your spirits.” Troy smiled and grabbed my hand, leading me farther through the garden.
Entwining our fingers, I walked beside him.
Affectionateandloyalwere the words best used to describe Troy. He frequently held my hand or linked his arm through mine; anything to touch me. Our friendship was closer than most, but purely platonic. He enjoyed physical contact and sought it from me. He knew I wouldn’t hurt him or try to take more than he was willing to give.
Wary of otherscould be used to describe him, as well.
I smiled when I saw where he was leading me—to the arena.
“Strange,” I said in a slightly cocky tone. “I was unaware you wished to have your pride damaged today.”
“You think you can beat me?” Troy grabbed one of the knives and tossed it back and forth in his hands.
“Unless your atrocious aim has gotten better, then yes,” I answered.
Malik chuckled from behind me, and Troy tossed him a playful glare.
“You stay out of this,” Troy said, pointing at the guard. But the laugh in his voice took away any punch to the words. “Or I’ll have to whip you, as well.”
“Oh, please,” Malik responded with a sly grin. “I could beat you while blindfolded with one hand behind my back, young one.”
Throwing knives was one of my favorite pastimes. As prince, it was imperative for me to train and learn specific skills, like defensive and offensive combat. I also trained with various weapons, such as knives and a bow and arrow.
I could wield a longsword, but I preferred daggers.
The soldiers trained in an arena, learning land-fighting techniques, but they also trained outside of the barrier. When I was little, I used to sit at the edge of the dome and look out into the sea, watching the men train and move through the water. They’d been graceful and deadly.
I’d once dreamed of becoming a soldier, until I was told fate had other plans for me.
As they continued to banter, I picked up one of the knives and moved it around in my hand. Seeing the target at the end of the field, I raised my arm and took aim. As I flicked my wrist and sent the knife hurling toward the target, I felt an amazing rush of excitement.
Yes. This is exactly what I needed.
***
Malik was going to murder me. Or at least chain me to the wall once he realized I was gone and hunted me down.
I had to admit it was incredibly foolish to run from him. Father had chosen him as my personal guard because he was the best.
Before my birth, Malik had been the captain of Father’s army; a warrior so renowned and feared that enemies were said to have pissed themselves once they discovered it was he who led the force.
Father had wanted only the best to watch over me. Not only because I was his son, but because I was also rare.
Nymphs were a dying breed and very few remained. And I was a nymph that also had god’s blood running through my veins. Among our enemies, I was a prize unlike any other.
“Lor?”
I froze at the voice.
I’d snuck out of the palace early that morning. It had been tricky with Malik outside my room, but I’d waited until he left to find the other guard for a shift change—because even a warrior such as himself needed to rest—and then I’d made my move.
Troy knew me better than anyone.