The School for Good and Evil: Return of the School Masters (fanfic)

Chapter 4

Tedros II smoothed his hair and undid his tie as he walked to Swordplay and Weapons Training. He'd left his peers speechless in Chivalry and Grooming, using every trick his father had taught him. It helped that he was the son of King Tedros of Camelot too, though he could sense some pressure to live up to the name. No biggie though.

His mother had wasted time explaining the challenges in the school and how to act and not judge books by their covers and so on, so forth 'til he finally left. She'd raised him and slapped his hand whenever he got out of line. He didn't need the refresher course in all things good and right. Yet she insisted on reminding him before handing him his bag and sending him off. He did miss his parents, but the freedom was exhilarating.

He opened the engraved door, gold plaque catching the light from the hall lights. The Swordplay room had pristine oak floors. A wall of mirrors took the left side, the rest a pale blue with murals of heroes fighting dragons and sending armies deep into the shadows. A rack of dulled blades took up the left corner nearest the door, staffs crowding the back left corner.

Other princes stood in wait near the door. Excited shock and impressed looks marked their faces as they met eyes with Tedros. As it should be.

One stood away from the rest, hazel eyes locked on nothing in particular. He'd been the first to bow, not picking much of a fight. He wore the same uniform as everyone else, a golden "A" stitched on his tie. His head inclined toward Tedros. "Welcome, your highness. I'm guessing your first day started well."

Refreshed by the coolness in his tone, Tedros walked over and responded, "Definitely. I can't wait for the mixed classes. How 'bout you?"

"Fairly good. I think Albemarle was shocked by my ability to complete the challenge."

Tedros laughed. "Why? You blind?" The prince's smile and blank gaze left goosebumps on his forearm. "Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't mean–"

The prince laughed heartily, joy filling the room. "No, no, you're all right. As long as you don't go easy on me."

The door swung wide, curt steps thunking on the floor. The man pulled his black coat off and tossed it in the corner, rolling up the sleeves of his red button-up. His black pants blended with his boots, but the dark scaled dragon hilt of his blade shined in the lights from overhead. Dark hair slicked back and light scars marking his features, he resembled a Never. The only Good in him rested in his sapphire eyes.

"Sorry I'm late, gentlemen," he said. "I had a personal matter to attend to before class. My name is Garth, but you'll call me Sir or Master. I will not answer to Professor, but you can try. Welcome to Swordplay and Weapons Training, probably the hardest class you will have this year. I reviewed the routine you came up with for the Orientation and I must say, you spared all creativity."

His gaze speared the crowd, heads turning away. "Please. I've seen that poor excuse for fencing too many times to be impressed. Especially since most of you were sloppy in your performance. You three need to work on footing, you two gripping your sword, and the rest not flashing the audience. A cheering crowd of princesses aren't going to follow you to every battle. And trust me, the bad guys won't be running in fear."

Tedros's lip curled as the others were reprimanded. Nothing flawed about his performance.

The devil's stare fell on him. "What's your name, hot shot?"

"Prince Tedros II, son of King Tedros and Queen Agatha of Camelot." A reverence filled the room.

Until a smirk tightened the scars on the professor's face. "Bet you think you did a good job, Prince Tedros II, son of King Tedros and Queen Agatha of Camelot."