CHAPTER 9 #2
A small crowd had started to gather at the edge of the ring, and I noticed a few people taking bets on who was going to win.
Another clang rang through the air, followed by the sound of metal hitting the solid ground.
Zendryk had broken his opponent’s sword and had knocked him to the ground.
I caught myself staring with my mouth wide open, but quickly shut it, hoping that he did not see me gaping at him.
His opponent laughed. “I concede, I concede,” and threw his hands up into the air in a joking manner.
Zendryk's chest rose and fell with each heavy breath he took, but he extended his hand out to him and helped him up from the ground. His friend slapped him on the back. “Feel better?”
“Thank you, Ulric.” His white shirt was drenched with sweat, highlighting the rippling muscles beneath.
He reached down and pulled the wet shirt above his head, exposing the years of hard work.
His body was a masterpiece; that’s what should have been painted in the portrait that hung on the walls instead of the miserable King and Queen.
Hidden between the dips and curves of each muscle were little scars.
One scar in particular caught my eye, starting at the top of his chest and flowing down to the left across his abdomen, ending right before it crashed into the two perfect lines that formed a “V”.
His head turned towards me, catching me with my mouth slightly apart, looking at him in awe, wondering how that scar came to be.
He flashed me with a wolfish grin, and I responded by rolling my eyes and looking away from him, knowing I had been caught eating him up.
He walked over to the drink table and poured a glass of water from a silver pitcher.
His scent drifted on the wind towards me, and I was met with a medley of morning frost on grass and a whisper of freshly cut oak; it was intoxicating.
Ulric came up behind him and poured himself a drink, but opted for the mead instead.
“So, what woman has gotten into your head, Zen?” He asked after chugging down half of his drink.
“Mind your own damn business.” He shot back.
“If you tell me, I will tell you about the exquisite blonde from last night.” He motioned to his chest with his hands, implying she had large breasts. Pig.
“Just because you will fuck anything that moves, doesn’t mean I have to.” The message was said to Ulric, but was meant for me.
Am I to believe that he didn’t have a different woman in his bed every night? Hell no, they line up in front of him, ready for whatever he would give them.
“You only live once.” His friend laughed and chugged the rest of his drink. “At least if I die tomorrow, I know I had a happy ending.”
They both laughed at the blatant and vulgar pun.
The sound of Prince Zendryk’s hearty laugh brought out my smile, only slightly, but I quickly caught myself and stopped, pressing my lips together in a straight line, forcing them not to betray me and give him another point in this game that we were playing.
After lunch, everyone stayed outside, enjoying the beautiful summer day.
The sun was shining, with not a cloud in the sky, but a cool breeze was blowing, offering relief from the beating sun.
Prince Zendryk and Ulric exchanged stories from the battlefield while lounging on the grass.
Ulric had joined the Prince and had his shirt off as well; the sun glistened off their tanned skin, hitting the curves of their muscles in all the right ways.
They both looked older than they were, probably from the years of battles and days in the sun.
From what I remember at The Academy, the Prince was around twenty-five, but he looked closer to thirty in person.
I kept sneaking peeks at them throughout the afternoon, and I told myself that just because I couldn’t indulge in them, it didn’t mean I couldn’t look.
I remained outside for beverage service while the other servants tidied and prepared for dinner service in the dining room.
I refilled their glasses with water, wine, and mead all afternoon, listening to their endless stories.
I never realized how many battles were occurring near our borders; the most recent battle was against the House of Flame.
Apparently, they believed they were stronger than the House of Darkness and had tried many times over the years to overthrow them.
According to Ulric, they lost again and returned home with their tails between their legs.
The rest of the afternoon continued, and I found myself enjoying the stories the two men shared, taking turns as they went back and forth, adding details here and there.
The lightheartedness of their conversations reminded me of Maya; I wondered how she was settling in at her manor.
My headache was getting worse as the day went on, and as dinner drew closer, Ulric left to wash up. Prince Zendryk remained outside, lying on the grass, both arms behind his head, eyes closed. I was lost in the sculpted mountains of his arms as they flexed behind his head.
“Avyn.” His voice carried over to me, bringing me out of my daze.
I walked over to him with the water jug, ready to refill his glass, but when I got there, I noticed it was still full. “Yes, sir?”
“Why didn’t you meet me last night?” One of his eyes opened, and he peered up at me.
“We are not allowed to fraternize with the royals, sir.” One of his eyebrows raised in speculation. “At The Academy, we were taught not to even talk to the ones we serve.”
He didn’t respond for a moment, letting what I had just said sink in. Finally, he said, “You can talk to me, Avyn.” And with that, he sat up and pushed himself off the ground. “I’ll talk to you later.” Giving me a quick wink, he walked towards the house, leaving me standing there.
He must be really frustrated that I wasn't deflecting his usual advances. I wondered how often, if at all, he was told no. I was a challenge to him, and there was no way he was going to win; this wasn’t the battlefield he was used to, and I was going to make damn sure that he would lose.