Royalty, Romance Novels + Secret Attackers

Getting Called Out

I'm walking the castle grounds when I spot a small group of women standing near the stables. I pick out Gia in the crowd and make my way over to her.

"What's going on?" I ask.

A lady pipes up, "He started a few days ago, sparring every day. Samantha saw him first then she told Tiffany. Its been spreading around court. All the ladies love coming to watch him."

"You never told me that your boyfriend was shredded." Gia exclaims.

I shrug. Honestly, I never noticed. And, glancing over to him, he was always fully clothed anyway.

Actually looking now, his upper body is toned, and his muscles bunch up under his skin as he parries the attacks from the instructor. He glances over to the crowd that's gathered and somehow picks me out.

The ladies around me sigh. "So good." Someone says.

I don't get what the big deal is about. To me, his abs are about as exciting as those bags of air companies put in online orders to pad fragile items. I guess maybe all those muscles are worthwhile if your fantasy is being carried. Personally, I'd pass.

I roll my eyes at the lot and turn my attention back to the fight. The instructor swipes his sword to the right, aiming for Gus's left side. He parries and swings the sword away, then aims a blow at the instructor's head. The instructor counters and their swords are held there as they both try to overpower the other. Gus looks over to me again.

And there's more fighting. Gus glances over to me again. Honestly, he'd probably would have beaten his instructor by now if he didn't keep looking this way.

I sigh. "Well, this is boring."

Gia snaps out of it. "Where are you going?"

"Back to the castle. Besides, I'd rather be in the fight, than watch it." I call over my shoulder.

"You're crazy!"

I shrug.

I pull closed the door to the kitchen behind me and open the fridge. The jars jangle as I paw around looking for a good munch.

The kitchen door opens and closes behind me. I glance back.

My brows wrinkle when I see him. "Weren't you just outside practicing? What are you doing here?"

He shakes his head. "No, I was done. I came for an after practice snack," he answers, a little out of breath. He picks up an apple on the counter and bites into it. "Delicious."

"Huh," I say as I watch him. "Anyways, you had quite the audience there."

He sheepishly rubs a non-existent stain from the apple. "Yeah."

"Don't know why. You couldn't even win."

"It was sort of an off day," he admits. "Usually I win at least a couple fights."

"Uh, huh." I murmur.

"You don't believe me?"

"I don't know," I answer truthfully. "I never imagined you were a sporty type."

"My dad encouraged it. It's the only sport I was really interested in, with my love of fantasy novels and all."

I nod and start to open the fridge.

He reaches above me and I step back.

"Excuse you!" I exclaim, annoyed he didn't ask me to move.

"I needed a," he looks in his hand, "mug."

"For your apple?" I ask in disbelief.

"Uh, no. I was thirsty." He fills up the mug at the sink and points at the door. "I should probably go take a shower."