My Champion

1 - Ill Advised

Eugene can feel the door buckling, the wood shaking beneath his back as he desperately tries to hold it closed.

One more chapter. One more and then he'll deal with the lesson and lectures and all that boring real life stuff.

His eyes skim over the words, chasing the brave knight deep into the forest after the dragon.

"He raises his sword, steel flashing in the moons pale light. "Beast! Face me if you dare! I am not afraid-"

With a solid kick the door flies open, sending the poor prince tumbling face first into the dusty pantry floor.

Pushing his dark curls back, Eugene peers up through the swirling dust. His new bodyguard looms over him, the older man's face a disappointed, yet bored, scowl. One white gloved hand descends, picking the prince up by the back of his jacket like a naughty kitten. Eugene scowls, reminding himself he is 24 and not a goddamn child. No matter what tall, quiet and scary seems to think.

Setting him back down, his bodyguard (what is his name? Has he spoken a single word since he was hired?) dusts him off, snatching his book away and tousling his hair into a more intentional mess. Speaking of hair, not a single strand of his own steel grey hair was out of place. The ponytail at the nape of his neck undisturbed despite kicking open a solid wood door and manhandling him like he was an oversized child.

Still without a word, Eugene is shooed out into the hall, where his waiting tutor is ready to draw him back to lessons.

A prince can never be too educated, his father liked to harp. But the increasingly tedious and niche lessons were a very poor cover. As long as his father lives Eugene has no purpose, unable to fulfill his sole duty of being king. So he must maintain his image as a studious and dedicated ruler, not a fanciful child reading fantasy novels and plotting adventure.

Passing his maidservant, and best friend, they share a secretive smirk. Unbeknownst to his father, this farce was ending whether he likes it or not.

. . .

Eugene sits side by side with his best friend, tossing peas at the swans.

"I scrubbed pans til my fingers almost bled last time you roped me into a plot! You may be prince but-"

Eugene shoves Punzie, knocking her off the bench. She scowls up through her blonde hair before pelting the inconsiderate royal with a handful of peas.

"You dick!"

Rolling his eyes, he grins. "You're either in or you're out. No more whining about Madam what's her face. We're adults, and I'm tired of pretending we're not so we can stay under everyone else's control!"

Brushing off her skirts and tossing one of her braids over her shoulder, Punzie plops back onto the bench. "Easier said than done."

"It is easy!" Eugene stands, waving his arms as he paces and rants. "I packed us bags, I have money and a plan and horses! Thats more than any grand adventurer ever starts with!! How many stories have the hero thrust out into the world with nothing more than their wits and a sword??"

"This isn't a story, Gene! We could get hurt!"

"I'll hire help!" His hands settle defiantly onto his hips and she struggles to challenge this newest declaration. With a groan, she throws her hands into the air.

"Fine!"

As he marches triumphantly back toward the castle, Punzie shares a long suffering look with a swan. "I don't know why he doesn't just ask his father for a title if he's so bored. He could be a Lord, or a Duke. Or he could just go on vacation to play hero."

The swan honks and she nods, glumly, "I just hope this childish sneaking out for a grand adventure plot doesn't blow up in our faces."

. . .

"A new moon!! Its perfect darkness as our cover!" Eugene states this like it's profound, Punzie stares longingly in the direction of her bedchamber.

Satchels on their backs, swords and daggers on their hips, and two very tired horses reluctantly letting them lead them out of the stable later, and they stand at the exit to the courtyard.

"Farewell, cruel confines!!" Eugene whisper proclaims, mounting the horse and flipping off the castle.

Punzie mounts her own steed, heart racing in a mix of fear and excitement. "Cruel?! You're a spoiled brat!"

Eugene laughs, head thrown back and she wishes she could flick his exposed throat. A bitter wind swirls their clothing and hair, chilling them and beckoning them out into the world.

Without another look back, they set off. Unaware of the third set of steps, trailing them like a shadow.