Chapter 1
I somersault, knees hitting the ground as my opponent lunges at me.
“You’ve gotten faster since last time,” he says, spinning back round to face me. He wipes his sweat from his forehead, tracing his bottom lip with his tongue.
“Gotta at least make this a challenge for you,” I quip, side-stepping another attack as my enemy jumps at me from the air, his sword slicing nothing but wind.
The crowd roars with anticipation, leaping out of their seats. To me this is just any ordinary sparring match. But for the crowd, this is special. Their crown prince, versus emerging leader of the royal guard, Kylo. A rare open training match at the colosseum to keep the citizens entertained.
I charge at Kylo. A metallic clash reverberates as our swords meet. For a moment, it’s just the both of us. We push against one another, neither one giving ground. Our biceps tremble with force, hands clutching firmly to our hilts.I grip my combat boots into the ground, curling my toes. My calves burn and my thighs ache, but I stand my ground.
Kylo grunts, gritting his teeth. He exerts a sudden burst of energy, and I stumble backward, tripping over my own feet. Kylo reacts instantly, kicking me to the ground.The air escapes my lungs. I collapse, coughing, trying to catch my breath, but I have no time to recover. Kylo places a firm foot on my chest, the tip of his sword dangerously close to drawing blood on my neck.
“Give up,” Kylo says, “you’ve lost.”
Adrenaline courses through my veins as I hook my legs around his ankles, sending him crashing down in a cloud of dust.
I instinctively leap to my feet and flip him around. I straddle him with my legs, pinning him to the ground. The crowd pumps their fists in the air, voices vibrating around the arena. My cheeks flush, and the back of my neck prickles with heat despite this familiar position.
I lean in closer, my blade resting on top of Kylo’s neck.
We’re so close now. His breath is warm, shrouding my face. The both of us labour intensely, chests heaving. Sweat trickles down his dust coated face, and his usual dark spiky hair falls to his sides, all clumped and matted.
I narrow my eyes, and he briefly meets my gaze. His green eyes catch the afternoon sun’s rays, lighting up like emeralds.
He smirks. His signature lop-sided grin which always makes my stomach lurch. How the fuck does he still look this good, even in the middle of a fight?
“What’s the matter?” Kylo asks, squirming beneath me. “Too craven to deal the final blow?”
I whip my head back. Behind me, in the centre of the arena is the hourglass. The particles of sand have almost run its course, the few remaining grains slipping through the narrow tunnel. If I wait a few more seconds, this will all be over. I won’t have to deal the finishing blow.
But what does that say about me? That I’m a weakling? A coward? I can already imagine my father’s dark expression. His stern eyes daring me to fail.
I gulp.
“Too scared to mar my pretty face?” Kylo taunts.
“Never,” I growl, jumping back into action.
I switch the sword to my left hand, balancing it between my thumb and finger. At the same time, I press down hard on Kylo’s left shoulder with my palm, keeping him in place.
I raise my right arm in the air, elbow jutting out towards the sky, prepared to strike.
“Do it,” Kylo murmurs, eyes half closed, “hit me already.”
My fist flies towards Kylo’s face, air slicing in its wake.
The horn blares.
I freeze, hand hovering mere inches above Kylo’s face.
Behind us, the audience clamours in their seats, screeching as if this is their first time watching us in action.
I retract my arm, freeing Kylo from beneath me. He dusts himself off, eyes glazing over his injuries. Then he looks me up and down, biting his lower lip.
“Thought you’d never let me go,” Kylo jests, reaching out his hand.
I smack it away.
“Next time, I won’t hesitate.”
We both turn to face the crowd. The crowd cheers.
“The winner…” the referee raises my arm, “Prince Elias!”
Despite all the balled fists waving in the air, and the throngs of gleeful faces, there is only one face, one expression that matters to me. My father’s.
