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Yes, My Lord

All Rights Reserved ©

Summary

Cerys is the leader of the Fordinbridge Army and she's been casually hooking up with Prince Dorian for a few years and they've managed to keep it quiet but Dorian is about to become King and instead of explaining his worries, he's trying to cut her out

Status
6yrs ago
Chapters
1
Rating
n/a
Age Rating
13+

Chapter 1

“You’ll have to do better than that Dorian, pathetic parry!” Cerys kicked the fully armoured man square in the chest and watched him clatter to the floor.

The Prince watched from his balcony as she trained, his white drapes fluttering around the open double doors. With a warm drink in his hand he’d rest on the stone edging and watch his Soldiers from above. Every morning, she’d get up as soon as the sun rose, grab whoever she could find and drag them out onto the square, whether they were ready or not.

“Attack could come at any moment. You need to be prepared!” Dorian got up from the stone floor. “Anyone with the slightest bit of common sense won’t attack in winter at 3AM Cerys, it’s impractical for everyone! Be realistic will you! ” The Prince laughed slightly too loudly as he drank from his mug. Cerys turned to the balcony.

“Good morning, your highness!” She curtseyed sarcastically as best as she could in her armour. “Good morning Soldier!” He called down. She handed Dorian’s sword back to him.

“Have you got time for a round of practise Your Highness or have you a busy day?” Oscar held up a finger and disappeared into his room. She smirked, he’d be down as soon as he was changed. Oscar had never denied her a sword fight. The pair of them never seemed to get ill or feel the cold. They could both fight for hours out of sheer determination to beat the other. Neither ever accepted defeat. At the moment, the Prince was winning but only until the next match. He never got more than 3 points ahead before Cerys beat him into place. “Go and sit on the wall Dorian, the Prince will show you how it’s done.” Oscar walked through the courtyard alleyway in full armour, the guard loudly shouted, “PRINCE OSCAR!”

Cerys fell to one knee with her hand over her heart, following the rules. Oscar took up his position. “Get up.” He whispered just loud enough for her to hear. She smirked and went for him, no warning given.

Their swords met and their eyes locked. “Playing like a bitch today then,” he spat as he forced her to take a submissive stance. “Always... Sir.” She spat back. He hated that. It was the Prince or Oscar, though no one was to call him Oscar with his father around. He insisted on the old ways. Her little comments would only get her into more trouble as he locked himself around her wrist and knocked the sword from her hand.

“2 points ahead. It’s getting close now Cerys. Do you want to submit?” She dropped her head, she’d already been going for 4 hours, there was no way she could keep going and complete formal training this afternoon. “Yes. But purely so I can finish my duties today as a Soldier, NOT because you win.” He let go and handed her her beautifully finished sword. “You keep telling yourself that sweetheart. Dorian, dismissed. Go and get some rest.”

The young Soldier left the courtyard and wandered back to the barracks. His bed was by the door so he tended to be grabbed the most often. He was grateful for the Prince to send him back to sleep. The Prince started to head back to his room but Cerys ran after him. “So, when do with think the Red Hawks will begin the war?” The Prince put a hand over her mouth and shoved her into the nearest wall. “Will you shush? I know you think you’re so covert having a codeword but the word war worries people.” He backed away from the blushing knight in armour and opened the back entrance to his bedroom. “You’re lucky it’s early.” He grabbed her by her hair and threw her in the direction of the stairs. “Go on... slut.”

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