Anti Heiress

Chapter 2

"Get up!" I shout, pointing my sword at Ervan. He grins, pushing up his sleeve and parrying my sword with his own. It was much too hot to go riding. I suppose it was wishful thinking to assume otherwise, based on how scorching the weather has been. 

"Do you ever tire?" Ervan asks.

I shake my head. "I couldn't go riding. It's sweltering. The horses don't deserve it."

Ervan raises a dark eyebrow. "Probably for the better. The less water they'll need." It feels as if he's accusing me. 

"Probably. Which means I'll have to expend my energy elsewhere."

"I can't expend all mine, Your Highness. I have lessons later today."

"None more important than me," I argue.

Ervan stands and leans on the hilt of his sword. Drops of sweat fall into the creases and the small scars on his face. "Several more important, he protests. I have training with soldiers, other noblemen's sons..."

"But I'm the princess," I point out. I rest the blade of my sword on his shoulder. "And when's the last our army has seen war. If you refuse me, I could have your head cut off. I could do it myself."

"If you ever had to use your sword, you'd vomit," Ervan chuckles. "This is play. It's no easy thing when it's for real." I've traded my gown for a riding shirt and pants. I look like one of the illustrations of the pirates in books I used to read as a child.

"What battles have you been in?" I tease. 

"When your entire work is telling a man he's done something wrong, even a step or the way he holds a sword, you'd imagine the fights. You have a better stance than most of them, if only you had more weight on you."

"That doesn't matter."

Ervan narrows his eyes af if he's considering answering me. He swings his sword at me instead. Our swords clang together. Metal meets metal, echoing off the stone walls of the training room. My laughter echoes off the walls too. Ervan's always said I should remain serious and focused but swinging swords is so fun to me I can't help but show my enjoyment. He strikes again and I duck in time enough to not be decapitated. When my braid flies up, Ervan grabs it and points his sword at my neck. If he pushes any harder, I'll be a dead princess.

"Your hair would get you killed in a real fight," he informs me.

I smirk at him. "Cut if off, then. I'm not attached to it."

"I'd be executed before dawn." Ervan lets go of my braid. 

"Yes, you'd rather swing a sword at my head unannounced."

"I'm skilled enough to not have hurt you."

The door to the swordroom swings open and slams the wall. Instantly, all the other sounds, conversations, and distractions from the palace halls  fill the room. Malissa enters, the expression on her face unreadable. Ervan sheats his sword.

Malissa curtseys to me, her eyes averted to the ground. "Your Highness, your presence is requested in the throne room. An urgent matter." I hand my sword over to Ervan.

"Do I have time to change?" I'm sweaty and dressed like one of the pirates in the stories I read when I was younger. I hope Malissa at least brought some perfume.

Malissa shakes her head. "Your audience is required immediately."

"Hopefully, I'll be back," I tell Ervan before heading toward the door. He lowers his chin in farewell. I cross the room to meet Malissa. "What's the matter?" I ask. 

"I'm not sure. One of Arman's men pulled me from my embroidery to find you. He didn't explain."

As I walk down the palace hallways, the nobles bow and some try to make conversation. One, who I think I've never seen in my life, tells me he's praying I accept his daughter as one of my ladies. A woman passes by, carrying a garrish assortment of cushions I pray won't be present at my card game. Malissa trails behind me. I wish she was allowed to walk next to me. The hallways are stifling hot, and the court vultures hanging around doesn't help to cool the air.