Arthur's [Point of View]
"...and with her, the alliance would secure the northern borders," Father declared, voice final.
The Duke bowed. "It would strengthen trade, unify banners and bring stability."
I tapped the table, itching to be anywhere but here.
Father's gaze snapped to me. "Arthur. If the council bores you, the training grounds may hold your attention better."
My eyes lit up. I was more than happy to be dismissed. "As you wish, Your Majesty."
I didn't wait for his rebuke. I grabbed Thomas by the sleeve and dragged him out.
When we reached the training grounds, my steps faltered.
A lady moved across the field like a storm, her sword flashing as though sunlight itself bent to its edge.
For a moment, I stood struck silent caught between fear and wonder.
I nudged Thomas. "Who is she?"
"That's Lady Morrigan Ausborne," he said, one brow lifting. "The Duke's daughter."
"Morrigan? How come I've never heard of her?"
Thomas frowned. "Strange. You two had your coming of age the same year."
"Huh? But I didn't see her at the ceremony."
"Probably because you slipped out to dance with a stranger." Thomas deadpanned.
"Don't remind me of that heartbreak. I'm still cursed."
Thomas smirked. "Cursed? No just stupid. If you'd asked her name, I wouldn't have spent three years chasing shadows."
I groaned. "I was caught in the moment!"
A voice cut across the field. "Thomas?"
A knight approached tall, broad shouldered moving like he expected the ground to obey him.
"Brian," Thomas greeted, his face softening. He punched the man lightly on the arm. "Still alive, I see."
Brian ignored the jab and bowed low. "Forgive the interruption. I am Brian Calil of House Ausborne. If there's anything you need, Your Highness—"
"You sparred with her?" I asked curiosity pulled at me sharper than reason.
Brian's mouth twitched. "Yes, but...I wouldn't call it sparring."
My brow rose. "Then what would you call it?"
"Surviving."
She moved like no one I'd ever seen and I wanted to know what it felt like to stand across from her sword. "Can I spar with the lady?"
Brian's hand brushed the hilt at his side, steadying himself. "Your Highness...are you courting death?"
"Death?" I blinked. "Hardly. I'm only curious."
He gave me a look of pity dressed as respect. "Very well. I'll inform my lady."
"Arthur," Thomas hissed, tugging my sleeve.
"Are you trying to get me killed because I reminded you of her?"
"Relax," I whispered. "How dangerous can she be?"
Thomas gave me a look. "Enough that even her father's knights won't cross her."
Across the ground, Brian murmured to Morrigan.
She froze mid strike, eyes locking on me.
For a heartbeat, the training ground blurred her figure, the only thing in focus. Then, with measured steps, she strode forward and thrust a sword into my hands.
"If His Highness insists on sparring," she said coolly, "I won't hold back."
A reckless thrill flared through me.
"Well," Thomas groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose like a priest at my funeral, "if His Highness insists on marching to his death...I say he lasts five minutes."
Bets flew like arrows, the training ground swelled into a coliseum dust rose and voices pressed in.
I shot Thomas a glare. "If I die here, you're getting buried beside me."
Thomas bowed mock-solemn. "An honor, Your Highness."
"You're supposed to guard me, not bet on my corpse."
"And I am guarding you." His grin sharpened. "I bet on you. Which means my life depends on yours."
Morrigan raised her sword. Sunlight ran along the blade and the field fell silent.
She lunged.
The shock shot up my arm and numbed my grip. I staggered, boots scraping dirt.
For four minutes I was nothing but a shadow, dodging strikes that would have split a lesser man. Her footwork was precise, each blow carried intent not just flourish.
My lungs burned. Was it three minutes? Four? Every heartbeat sounded like the clash of steel.
Then my heel caught a rock. I stumbled. Her blade came down, fast and merciless.
But I snatched a handful of dirt and flung it.
Dust exploded into her face. Her eyes widened a fraction enough.
Steel met steel, her sword rang against mine.
"Not bad, Mouse," she breathed, her voice sliding under my skin like a spell.
For one foolish second the world tilted. Her eyes caught mine and the crowd disappeared. Somewhere beyond us, I swore I felt the world watching waiting like fate itself had placed its wager.
The name slipped past my lips before I knew it was a strange foreign yet achingly familiar.
"You too, Amori."
Silence crashed in.
Her eyes narrowed, calculating the sound of it.
Then she laughed a short, amused sound like the bet had been hers all along. With a casual motion, her sword hit the ground. "Five minutes up. He wins."
The men erupted, their roars filled the field. All I could hear was her laughter and the jingle of silver coins.
Thomas nudged me, his grin sharp as a blade. "Amori? Really? Where in the gods' names did that come from?"
I groaned, covering my face. Why Amori? Because she's too lovely, that's why.
I glanced at my forearm...there, a shallow red bloom where her sword had grazed. It throbbed sharp and bright every pulse echoing.
The pain was terrible yet I welcomed it.
My first scar belonged to her. I should have known then nothing of me would ever remain mine.
⸻ ✦