Page 8 of Kingdom of Today
As the son of a marquis, Roman had grown up among the gentry. “Don’t stop there. Tell me what you’ve heard.” I kept my volume as low as his, ensuring the guards heard nothing. “And while you’re at it, finish what you were saying earlier, about Cyrus. Why is his shot at king low?”
“Hang on.” Roman led me into the commons, a spacious room divided into a trio of sections designated for entertainment, studying, and dining. But he didn’t stop. On we went, entering another hallway before descending a flight of stairs. Rather than huddling up in our next classroom, he kept me in the thick of a crowd, dozens of conversations taking place around us as trainees and soldiers rushed here and there. He bent his head and told me, “I heard the HP and his grandfather are feuding. Started recently. I don’t know all the details ...” He paused, giving me a chance to respond.
“I don’t either.” At Roman’s look of disbelief, I added, “Honestly, I know nothing about a feud.” Cyrus hadn’t mentioned it. I wondered, though. Did it revolve around me, the nobody girlfriend? I mean, our relationship was a recent development as well.
For victory, I would absolutely, unequivocally end the relationship. At least publicly. And temporarily.Don’t vomit.“You mentioned High Prince Felix is the front-runner. Do you know why?”
“A year ago, a glower killed his wife. He’s been on a revenge tour ever since. Across the board, his stats are mind-blowing.”
Okay, forget recruiting him. He wouldn’t be interested in becoming a glower like me and Cyrus. Although, there must be more to the story of his wife’s death. A mistake of some sort. Murder wasn’t the Soalian way. That much, I knew.
“Look,” Roman said. “Whatever caused the quarrel between grandfather and grandson, Cyrus will have to patch things up if he wants to win the crown.”
I raised my chin, determined. “Mark my words. Cyrus will be the next king of Ourland.” Quarrel or not, we would find a way. Nothing would stop us now.
Chapter Three
In fear, there is no safety, solace, or stillness, only a path to ruin.
—The Book of Soal1.18.3.26
How I survived weapons training with Roman tethered to my side, I may never fully understand. Before class began, we secured the nexus of chain to our waists, both of us grimacing as we realized only a few inches separated our bodies—and there was no way to undo it. The fasteners cinched tight.
As we trained with weapons, he operated with total abandon and zero qualms. He spun this way and that, taking me along for the ride as he wielded his spear with expert precision, protecting us both from the hologram we fought. Anyone who got in our way got mowed down. By the end, bruises marred my legs, but I didn’t mind. Roman took the time to help me learn from my mistakes, surprisingly patient and endearingly amusing.
At lunch, he ate his meal bar and half of mine. He also drank most of my hy-water. A blessing, honestly. I was resolute: no bathroom breaks today. Standing at his side duringhisbreaks was bad enough.
I even survived running a complicated obstacle course during drills, chased by a horde of holographic feeders. Actually, I excelledat the course; mostly because Roman tossed me over walls whenever necessary.
We didn’t collide until self-defense class, now taught by some unknown baron rather than Cyrus. My partner zigged when I zagged, and I ended up with a ton more bruises and several cuts. Completely my fault! I remained distracted, continuing to mull the possibility of a breakup with Cyrus.
Again and again, I told myself the separation wouldn’t be permanent. Once the heat with Mr. Vyle died down, we could get back together. And yet, even the thought of a temporary split-up hurt worse than these physical wounds.
A bell rang, signaling the start of free time. The chain opened without prompting, falling.
“Thank goodness.” I rushed to the bathroom, where I peed for an eternity. After washing my hands, I headed to the commons to swipe a meal bar and extra hy-water, which I guzzled like a madwoman. Well, notmadmad. To my surprise, my energy didn’t rally as I emptied the third carton but tanked.
Though my team congregated in the entertainment portion of the room, eager to socialize, I trudged to my old cell. My shadows remained outside it, in front of the bars, flanking the open doorway. I tumbled into my hard, uncomfortable bed, done with the day.
Hmm. The mattress. It was much softer than I recalled. And there wasn’t a chain attached to the wall to ensure I couldn’t harm anyone if I broke with Madness in the middle of the night.
But. What would happen when I got a new roommate?
Spotting a digital reader on my pillow, I reached out to press the chip in my palm against the ID pad at the bottom-right side of the device’s hard outer shell. Maybe I’d find a note from my sweet prince.
Or not. A schedule appeared.
LADY A.R.
Tuesday–Thursday
0500–0530: Wake up/Breakfast
0530–0730: Warm up/Work out (Gym A)
0800–1000: Realms and Travel (Room 2)
1010–1230: Weapons (Room 6)
