Prince Cole.
The name runs through my mind but I can't seem to comprehend it. My mysterious savior yesterday was the Crown Prince of Belmar? The man I was running around with to jewelry stores was the protagonist of the book?
How could I have been so blind, there were so many obvious signs I just assumed he was an interesting unnamed nobleman. He was running from his guards, he escapes from the palace where his every move is watched, he wears a tattered cloak to disguise his expensive clothes underneath. I didn't realize that running away to the general public was a habit of his since the novel is supposed to start tomorrow. He probably didn't get much of a chance to enjoy his usual rituals since he was shackled to the original Amalie during the Sonna Festival.
Ace, or rather Crown Prince Cole, is a little ways away when I lay a hand over my waist and bend to greet him with a bow. "Greetings His Royal Highness Crown Prince Accolodius. Blessings upon the Kingdom of Belmar." I look up before he allows me to rise, but I can't help but sneak a glance at his smug face. He's cockily grinning, trying his best to disguise his amusement.
"Please Lady Amalie, no need for formalities. I heard the daughter of the esteemed Ewell Dukedom was going to make an appearance at the knighting exams and I wanted to see it for myself. I'm just glad to finally be acquainted with such an impressive member of nobility." He bows in front of me, meeting me at eye level and dropping to a whisper, "So we meet again, Miss Amy."
We rise from our formal greeting stances and I want to keep asking him questions, but I know there's not enough time. My favorite character ever is standing right in front of me, and I'm forced to fight him for my own survival. Cole was described as the mightiest swordsman in the kingdom; intelligent, powerful, and swift. I could feel my chances of becoming an imperial knight dwindling, but the man in front of me was still human. I sparred with Garrison and the Duke everyday for a month, if I could hold my own against them then I might have a chance against Cole.
The announcer doesn't even wait for either of us to take a stance before shouting "Begin!" into the speaker system. My sword fumbles in my hands as I fail at gracefully unsheathing my blade. Cole lunges toward me with fire in his eyes and a smile still on his mouth. Our swords clash right before his blade could touch my nose, sparks threatening to burn the hair framing my face. Even with my eyes staring into his, teeth gritted from focus, I could make out the reflection of my skin on the metal in front of me.
"Careful, Love," he grins, still pressing his weight against me, "I'm afraid I'm not as gentlemanly as Willard." He leans back slightly before charging his sword against mine once more. I can't help but move back as our blades connect, each time forcing me more and more into a corner. We continue to parry like that, breaking apart for only seconds at a time before striking once again.
The re-split calluses on my hands tinge my hands like flames, threatening my grip with each passing blow. My eyes wince with each strike, stumbling further and further to my side of the stadium. I'm not sure if Cole notices my pain, but he relents a bit, allowing myself room to breathe.
"Fight me," he says, the goofiness in his smile replaced with something serious. "Show me you can be an imperial knight. If this is the path you truly desire, then prove it. Fight me." The smell of iron burns my nose, and I'm not sure if it's from my sword or blood from my hands. My eyes don't leave Cole's face, searching for some sort of sign of his next attack, some sort of tightened muscle to signify movement. That's when I realize I should take what he said more seriously. He's right, if I'm to become an imperial knight, I need to prove myself. I need to fight him.
Adrenaline fills my sight, pushing aside any sense of pain as I tighten my grip on my sword. My feet shift in the dirt slightly, separating to widen my stance and ground my balance. I'm too close to the wall to keep defending, but there's no way I can openly attack in offense against Cole. He made it clear that he could defeat me right then and there if he wanted to by allowing me a chance to prepare myself, and I can't blame him for it.
"It'd be a shame to deface the Crown Prince of such a powerful kingdom. Unfortunately for you, Your Highness, I don't have a choice to hold back." My right leg slides back as it launches me towards Cole. Both my hands are clasped just below my chin when our blades connect once again, a spark flying on either sides of us.
Cole seems a bit shocked by my sudden attack, but blocks it as I had his first. The smug smile of his is back, eyes scanning my face through our crossed swords. He lets out a chuckle, and I'm close enough to feel his breath against my cheek. "There's the fire from yesterday."
"'You must have quite a bit of energy to expend if you're wasting your breath with such frivolous remarks,'" I say, repeating what I had told him yesterday when we were being chased through the alleys.
A flicker of amusement flashes through his face, and I wonder if I didn't hit him hard enough the first time. I shift my weight to my right side, throwing off his balance as his weight continues to shift. Taking the opportunity, I lower myself and sweep his legs from under him. My body scurries closer to the center of the stadium as I stumble back to my feet, just in time to see Cole roll from his fall, landing upright again as if nothing I did fazed him.
"You move as if you don't intend to kill me," he says circling me with his blade pointed.
"Forgive me Sir but if I admitted otherwise, it'd be seen as treasonous." I don't look at him as I speak, but I can feel his eyes following me as we continue on cautiously.
"This is a duel, Lady Amalie," we stop moving, his hand gripping his sword as he prepares to attack. "Act like it." Cole launches for another attack, but this time I'm prepared. My feet shuffle to the side, and Cole falters behind me. I drag my arm outwards, the hilt of my sword hitting him in the back. Before I can pull my hand back, Cole grabs my wrist and spins me around so I'm facing him.
He has the hand with my sword immobilized, and I look up at him, faces inches apart. For a moment we just look at each other. From his dark curls to his hazel eyes, he looks exactly like the novel described him. I don't think I'll ever be over the shock of knowing that I had a secret rendezvous with the Prince Cole, but now isn't the time to get lost in his captivating charm.
We don't stand like that for long as I manage to wrestle my wrist away from his grip. "It's a pity you're so eager to stay away from me Lady Amalie. Am I the plague to you?" Cole laughs shaking off one of his hands.
"Do you often make it a rule to speak while dueling?" I say, charging at him with a strike he leans in to block.
"Only when my opponent has a tongue as sharp as yours, My Lady." Cole hooks one of his legs round my ankles and we fall to the ground, him toppling over me. His blade dips slightly as he continues to push me into the ground, nicking the side of my cheek. It doesn't hurt enough to notice, but I do feel a drop of blood slip from the cut.
I don't let his weight press into me for long, as my leg slips under him and kicks him off. My sword slices the backside of his hand, not deep, but enough to make up for the cut on my cheek. The two of us squat opposite each other, touching the injuries we both inflicted. Cole smiles, I try not to.
Cole must have pushed me closer to the wall than I realized because when he charges again, my back lands against the stadium, trying to defend myself. With a free hand, Cole manages to grip the wrist of mine holding my sword and pins it to the wall above me. I try to do the same to his, but he flattens his forearm so that my other wrist is pinned as well. Dammit, I think, he got me.
Of course I didn't think I'd win, but I think I let a part of me hope. I held out longer than I expected, and fought better than I did with the Ewell's knights regiment, but that still isn't enough. This is the end of the line for me. Cole's eyes search my face, trying to get me to look at him, but I simply can't. My gaze trails behind him, avoiding his stare, and lands on Queen Rista in her viewing box. There's no doubt about it, this time she's definitely laughing.
"The winner of the round is Crown Prince Accolodius of Belmar." The crowd roars in enthusiasm, erupting into chants of "long live the Crown Prince!" Cole doesn't let go of me until I finally relent and look at him. He seems amused, but I can't match his energy. He might not know this, but I failed to become an Imperial Knight, no noble will in their right mind will recruit the frail Duke's daughter to their regimen, and no matter how open minded Duke Ewell is, he will eventually marry his daughter away for her own sake. I can't inherit his fortune, that's going to Garrison, and I can't live at the Ewell estate forever. I'll have to marry eventually, but no matter what this is the last time I get myself involved with Cole.
I glare at him in frustration, feeling helpless with both my arms pinned, but also infuriated that he ruined the plan I've been developing for a month. Everytime Amalie and Cole are involved with each other in this world, Amalie will suffer. That's her fate and that's how my life here is designed. This is the last time he'll interfere with my life.
He must notice how displeased I seem with the outcome when he was having too much fun pushing me around like a rag doll. His grip around my wrists loosen and I rip away from Cole. I see his smile falter, but he clearly doesn't know what to say.
My hand drapes around my waist and I drop to a bow before walking away. "Congratulations, Your Royal Highness. Glory to the Kingdom of Belmar."
* * *
"That jerk, that pompous fool."
"Lucinda please." I understand her frustrations, but her pacing around the room with her blade ready to slice makes me worried for what actions she may be considering. "If anyone heard you speaking this way, you'd be tried for treason."
"I don't care, My Lady. He disguises himself and parades around the city with you on his arm. He fails to mention his title as the Crown Prince and drags you away with guards chasing at every corner, putting your life at risk. He taints your reputation at a duel in front of the entire Kingdom, and has the audacity to smile while doing so. He could be the king for all I care, next time I see him I'll slash his pretty, 'princely' face into ribbons." Lucinda's fuming a shade of red I've never seen before, and Charlotte is clearly too frightened to ask her to calm down. We're back at the Rose and Crown Inn, but I fear the building won't remain standing if Lucinda doesn't eventually calm down.
Charlotte presses a cotton pad to my cheek, cleaning the wound as she starts to patch me up. I'm not sure when it happened during the duel, but Cole managed to sever my hair tie, leaving my red curls to bounce in front of my face. "While I don't agree completely with what Lucinda is saying," Charlotte says, brushing ointment across my cut, "I don't disagree with her either. You'd think a Crown Prince would have more manners than to fight a lady into such a condition."
"Might I remind you both that the man you speak so ill of can have you both thrown in prison for belittling his behavior, no matter how appalling. Not to mention that he will be attending the Sonna Festival's closing ball tomorrow night." I lean over, pressing my finger tips to my temples. The only difference between Lucinda and Charlotte, and myself right now is that I've internalized my agressions.
I can't even stay mad at Prince Cole. He didn't really do anything wrong except win a duel fair and square. He kept secrets but so did I, and he didn't know the stakes that one match held on my future. All Cole did was fight like I was an opponent, not a fragile little girl.
I'm mad at myself that I wasn't good enough to defeat him. Of course a month of training in a doll like body would never measure up against the kingdom's finest warrior, but a piece of my old self grew greedy. Caroline Rosings, the girl I used to be, was never satisfied unless she was winning. I guess I forgot that I'm not her anymore.
Lucinda sits down across from me, staring at her clasped hands. "I can't bear the idea of you being in the same room as that man."
"There will be hundreds of nobles, aristocrats, and servants to distract the both of us." I stand to slip off my boots beside the door frame, "I doubt we'll ever cross paths again." It looks like Lucinda wants to say something, but this time Charlotte takes the initiative to escort her from my room.
"You've had a long day, My Lady. Please excuse us, we'll allow you to retire." Lucinda looks back wanting to protest, but Charlotte pushes her through the door frame and allows the door to shut behind them.
With them out of the room, I make my way towards my belongings piled in the corner. Flipping through bags and layers of clothing, my hand grips around the journal I made when I first came here. All of the events of the novel, all of the characters, and all of their motives are scribbled neatly on the notebook, chronicled like an encyclopedia of this world.
I flip to the back of the book where I wrote the details of my plan to survive as Amalie. The top of the page is clearly labeled with the header "Imperial Knights Exam", and I tear it out.