Hold It In

Someday My Prince Will Come

<Corinth POV>

   "Holy hell!" My brother shouted. Father had said we would practice fencing, but fencing was boring, and I got tired quickly and switched to swordplay. I was smoking Ethan, my older brother, and I just got him in an arm lock. I flipped my elbow inwards, and his blade skittered across the concrete, and I flashed a grin before hitting him in the stomach with the butt of my sword.

  "Good one, Corey," My little brother, Henry, called from down the field.

  I grinned and sheathed my sword. "Thank you. I try my best."

  Ethan's frown flipped. "Really wish Father would send you into war," He joked. "Then I wouldn't have competition."

  I laughed. "Of course. I like how you don't even consider Henry in this, by the way."

  Ethan rolled his eyes. "Sure, definitely forgot. Just thought you'd be more dangerous, the Altariths wouldn't try us if you were out there."

  I smiled with pride. If my older brother -the heir to the throne, no less- was telling me I was good, then there's no doubt that I'd be of some use of the field. It was a good day; there were no attacks, no proprietors to threaten Father, and the weather was fairly nice, for October. And to top it off, it was nightfall, and the sun was setting over the horizon.

  Until he jumped over the wall.

  "Prince Corinth!" One of Father's servants screamed, running across the field, waving his hands frantically. "A thief has penetrated the walls! The guards need help!"

  I groaned and ran from where he had came from. Royal guards were rushing around the palace halls after a cloaked figure, who was straight up owning them. They would lunge at him, but he would just jump up and push them to the ground, running the opposite direction. He glanced at me for a moment. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to not gasp. He was gorgeous. Black hair covered most of his forehead, and he had a few scars on his face, one long one going down his cheek. But the oddest thing about him were his eyes. They were a deep, royal purple. Purple.

  "By Jove," I mumbled. One of the royal captains grabbed him by his wrists, and he squirmed for a bit before the guard punched him across the face. Blood dribbled down from his lip. The captain punched him again, and this time his nose started to bleed. Then he threw him on the floor and tore his cloak off, dangling it up above him before walking out and tossing it over the fence. A few of the guards were kicking his mercilessly, and I could hear a stomach-turning crunch at last before he cried out in pain. One of them had broken one of his ribs, and they were moving to the next. I knew this at the time because I could see his ribs, and one of them was crumpled in. He balled up and whimpered, and the guards kicked him even harder.

  "Little street rat!" One of them bellowed.

  "Freak," Another one sneered.

  "Hey!" I pushed my ways toward the middle, unsheathing my sword and raising it up. "Back away! Get off!"

  "But sir-" One of them started.

  "Get off!" I shouted, leveling my sword to his throat. "I said get off!"

  He shuffled uneasily before backing up. The boy whimpered as I approached, but didn't further protest when I picked him up.

  "But he robbed the castle!" The captain exploded, shoving me backwards and making me nearly trip on him. "This is punishable of death!"

  I looked the boy down. He didn't have anything in his cloak; and there was no way he could hide something in his shirt when I could see his bones. "Did you steal anything?"