Chapter 22
Twenty-two
James
Today was not a good day.
My many sleepless nights had started to take a toll.
Fog clouded my mind, leaving me half dazed, and my emotions teetered wildly.
I feared what would come out of my mouth if my slipping control broke.
The desire to throw every object on my desk across the room grew steadily throughout the morning, which was a good indication I needed to leave.
My staff eyed me warily, and they didn’t deserve my impending emotional overflow.
I headed for the training hall, needing to be somewhere not my office.
I also hadn’t trained much—well, I’d whacked things late at night in an effort to sleep, but mindlessly hitting things didn’t really count as training.
No, I needed to truly train. I’d also promised a few of my knights I would train with them, Sir Collins in particular. I’d only had one session with him, and the competition was coming up soon, so I’d best focus on him a little more.
My mind on archery tips and such, I completely didn’t realize Queen Beatrice was coming my direction until she hailed me.
“James! Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
I blinked, switching mental topics, and greeted her with a quick bow. “I’m off to the training hall.”
She looked as if she’d just left some garden party. The light, flowing dress of pale green suited her, and she’d worn several tastefully selected pearls. At her heels were Ramsey and a knight I had a nodding acquaintance with. Damn if I could remember the name, though.
Queen Beatrice gave me a warm smile. “Delightful. That’s how a prince should be, well-rounded in all disciplines. I did have both Victor and Royce trained as boys, but the second they became adults, they dropped the training entirely. Such a disappointment.”
Somehow, that didn’t surprise me. Royce would rather be standing in front of blood samples. Victor would rather be lounging about in bed. Neither of them had the right mindset or passion to pursue a martial art.
“Are you training in your archery or swordsmanship today?”
A valid question, since I could do both. Archery had my heart, however. “Archery. Well, really, I’m training someone in archery today.”
Her brows needled together and her look of happiness faded sharply into unease. “I’ve heard rumors you train your knights?”
Now what was this look for? “Well, yes, on occasion.”
“James, truly, if you have to train them, then they’re not fit to be your knights—”
I threw up a hand to stop her. “That’s not why I’m training them.
They’re all very good. Three knights in particular want to compete in the Wilton Archery Tournament.
They know I’ve won said tournament five years in a row.
All I’m doing is standing off to the side and giving them tips to help one of them win. ”
Her expression didn’t clear; she wrung her hands, more agitated, if anything. “That’s not my point. You’re a prince now. You shouldn’t be using your time like this, training people beneath you. It’s demeaning.”
Sleep deprived as I was, my temper already hung by a thread, and my already tenuous control snapped.
I forced myself to stillness but there was no checking my expression.
I didn’t know what my face was doing, but it was enough to turn her pale skin almost ashen.
The knight almost reacted, and I saw from the corner of my eye Ramsey quickly stop him. I ignored both.
“Might I remind you that until a month ago, I was one of those people beneath you?”
She swallowed hard and looked embarrassed.
“Because I was born a bastard, I know exactly how stupid the whole idea of bloodlines and nobility is.” My tone was flat, but inside I shook with anger.
How fucking dare she say that. To me, of all people.
“I am a prince only in name, Beatrice. And only to serve my country. I didn’t do it to rejoin a family who cast me aside because my father couldn’t be bothered to pull out in time.
Now, I’m going to train. Never say such disgusting words to me again. ”
I sidestepped her and deliberately walked at a normal pace, not rushing to get away from her.
I wouldn’t apologize for the crudeness of my words.
Beatrice held an overly inflated opinion of her own birthright and shouldn’t.
She’d done precious little to earn the right to keep her status as queen, in my opinion. Barely more than the bare minimum.
She’d been complaining about the incompetence of her nobly born son just yesterday and she still spat out such rhetoric?
Didn’t she even see the hypocrisy? The irony of what she said?
How dare she berate me for being a decent human being?
She’d already had so little of my respect, but even that bit disappeared now.
This damn attitude of hers had caused so many things to go wrong in my first life, including my disastrous marriage.
The gall of that woman, questioning why I chose to spend time with my own knights. People who had literally died protecting me. I couldn’t believe how thick she was.
When I reached the training yard, I realized I had beaten Sir Collins there. Fine, I’d put some arrows into a target, try to rid myself of the anger coursing through me. I was in no fit state to teach right now.
I grabbed my usual bow off the wall and a quiver of arrows, then went to the farthest target. It would challenge me the most and help me focus. Or that was the hope, anyway.
Nock, aim, release.
I breathed through each pull and release, more from habit than anything.
Nock, aim, release.
The sound of the arrow whistling through the air right before it hit was rhythmic, soothing, as natural to me as breathing.
Nock, aim—twang.
The sound was entirely wrong, and I grimaced as the bowstring snapped, lashing out, although fortunately only glancing off my chest. It stung, but my jacket had mostly absorbed the blow, and I could ignore the minor pain.
Instead, I stared at the bow in my hands, the string hanging in half off either side, and resisted the urge to break it over my knee.
“Son of Zinos!”
Captain Rowan jogged up to me. “I was called?”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re funny.”
“I do try. How long has it been since you’ve restrung your bow?”
“For the life of me, I can’t remember. But clearly I haven’t replaced the string in a while.
” Target practice bows needed their strings replaced at least once a year, just from the wear and tear.
Hunting bows could go up to three years, sometimes, but my bows?
I always replaced the strings once a year.
Until this year. Apparently, I’d had too much on my mind to remember.
His tone turned gentle. “Are you all right?”
“I’m not hurt,” I said with a sigh. “Just pissed off. I ran into the queen in the hallway, and she said something she really shouldn’t have.”
“Sounds on par for her,” Captain Rowan surprised me by saying.
Ho, what was this? Had he finally started to lower his guard around me to be the very frank man I knew him to be? Well, well, well, perhaps today wasn’t a complete shitshow after all.
I rewarded the candor with, “Yes, unfortunately, it is. She had the audacity to say training all of you was beneath me.”
“Ah, I can see how that would upset you. You do not believe any life is above another’s.”
“That I do not.”
Captain Rowan took the bow from my hand. “I’ll have the string replaced for you. Why don’t you and I spar while waiting on Collins?”
In all honesty, I wasn’t in the mood for people today. I wanted my Edwin. That’s all, just Edwin.
But I couldn’t go to Edwin and vent like I normally would. I couldn’t pour my heart out to him and have him listen, advise, and soothe me. I had no one to turn to for comfort, and the loneliness ached like an open wound.
So, while I didn’t really want people, I chose to accept Captain Rowan’s offer. Someone was better than no one, and I’d promised my help to Sir Collins. I wasn’t in the habit of breaking promises just because I was no longer in the mood to keep them.
Captain Rowan and I squared off, swords in hand, and he barely let me settle into a stance before launching the first foray.
Now, I was good with a sword.
Captain Rowan was very, very good.
He let me know it in short order, too.
I had no room to think of Beatrice, Edwin, or anything other than trying to keep my footwork together and Captain Rowan’s sword from hitting me.
I scrambled to respond to his attacks, barely defending, and tried in vain to find some way to counterattack.
Shit, I knew him to be excellent with the sword, but he was better than I remembered.
If only he’d lived to see the end of the war, I would have made him fight the Demon King. He’d have finished off the fight in three moves!
Captain Rowan caught my sword hilt with his, grinning at me. “How you doing over there, Your Highness?”
“Might I remind you,” I panted out, “that you’re not supposed to hurt me.”
“I don’t know what to say to you. Defend better.”
“Ha! I’m laughing to avoid crying.”
Captain Rowan grinned, not at all abashed about the fact that he’d just chased his boss around the training hall. Fucker.
Also, clearly, I needed to spar more. I felt woefully inadequate in this fight, and he was literally pausing to let me get my wind back, which was just embarrassing.
“You’re off the hook,” Captain Rowan said, stepping back and unlocking our hilts. “Collins just came in.”
“So not only are you good enough to chase me around but also to keep track of your surroundings while doing so? Dammit, man, there’s no need to twist the knife in my ego. It’s already lodged up to the hilt.”
He gave me a condescending pat on the shoulder, then took the training sword from my hand and sauntered off.
I wiped sweat off my forehead and turned, watching Sir Collins approach.
The knight stripped off his uniform jacket as he moved, observing me with a commiserating look. “Captain get you?”
“Man’s a storm on legs,” I insisted. “I stood no chance. Does anyone actually beat him?”
“Not us, that’s for sure.” Sir Collins shrugged. “He keeps sparring with us because he claims the only way to get better is through practice. Mind you, none of us can beat him despite all that practice. I think he’s using us for practice.”
“I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised. All right, let’s get you a bow.”
Sir Collins gave me a look askance. “You’re not joining me? You normally do.”
“I have to restring mine. Don’t mind that. I’ll set you up to practice first.”
One thing was for sure, my anger had abated for the moment, so the practice session had done me good in that sense. I felt ready to train Sir Collins. He was truly talented and had a very good chance of winning.
After I trained him, though, I’d take a nap.