Chapter 15 - Friendly Match

The monotonous day seemed to stretch on, surpassing any level of boredom I could have anticipated. To my disappointment, Valleria did not come to me that evening, prompting me to venture out in search of her. However, my attempt failed, as it was already well past midnight by the time I mustered the courage to seek her company.

The next morning, only Isac, my sparring partner from the previous day, arrived.

"You can't hide from me forever, even if you're a king now." He playfully taunted me while securing his forearm with a tightly fitted leather protector.

"I didn't try to." I grinned when we finally got going.

Stephen stood outside her room once again. It was probably part of their arrangement and I was able to see that pattern: he would be replaced by black-haired Jacob in the afternoon, and at night, Peter, the eldest, would take over. 

"Anything worth mentioning?" I asked him as I walked by. He mused, "She's going to ride the mare again today, so I asked the stable boy to return the stepladder from which the knights dismount at tournaments." He then said and I just nodded and continued on my way, pleased to hear that they weren't completely stupid.

Isac playfully nudged me and eagerly awaited an explanation, his mischievous grin failing to hide his amusement.

"I want her." I growled when he didn't let up. "I'll court her until she's mine."

"She doesn't seem to have much of a choice." He remarked cynically, but finally stopped poking me.

I finally got to spar after two weeks, but today as the only remaining crown prince.

As the sun cast its warm embrace upon the royal courtyard, I grabbed my favorite sparring sword and stepped aside to let Isac pick one too. Some onlookers gathered around, without the knowledge that the man in simple garments is to be crowned their next king in just a few weeks.

With a nod of mutual respect, the duel began. As I wielded my sword with a sense of regal poise, Isac already took the lead and began his attack. With each strike, our arms gripped the hilt of a sword stronger.

The clash of steel reverberated through the courtyard, a testament to the bond that existed between prince and knight. I was glad to have a friend like he was, our unbreakable bond was undeniable.

As the duel intensified, the crowd watched in awe as Isac's skill matched my own. He seemed to have an innate understanding of my movements, countering them flawlessly thanks to our countless squirmishes. Despite the intensity of our sparring, we sometimes bursted out laughing to soothe the mood. As the duel drew to a close, with a final strike that narrowly missed my shoulder, Isac stepped back, lowering his sword. Out of breath and covered in sweat, we decided we had enough.