Maybe it’s not a symptom of being the Guardians’ Hero. I have to admit that I’ve never been one to sit tight.
“You will submit on your knees with your head down, whether the princess is at your back or front. Understood,” the tutor states more than asks. My mind tunes in only at the mention of the missing girl.
“Where is the princess?” I ask. I hear Suyai sigh from the wall. She should be proud of me. I’ve held out for the entire useless hour of basic combat instructions as if I’m not a soldier. This tutor is nowhere near the level of my mother’s unit, and I fought alongside them.
The tutor must be used to spoiled rich kids who have never swung a halberd in their lives.
I’ve been bested in battle, and I’ve bested others. I’ve had to bare my neck by force, and I’ve knocked others' knees and forced them to the ground. Yes, I know how to spar.
The tutor sighs. “She will arrive when done with her more pressing duties–“
“More pressing than our fate?” I interrupt.
“Then we’ll do a round of hand-to-hand to get a sense of your energy–“
“Which you’re not letting me warm up for–“
“By then, we shall have established a connection and be done before sundown–“
“Just listen to me for one second, come on!” I all but yell.
The unnamed tutor doesn’t care.
My hand itches, and I’m one second away from doing something I might regret when the gate opens.
“I know you know how much I hate screaming, Taja,” the princess says, ever bored and ever commanding.
“My Princess,” the tutor says, “The hero is–“
“The hero is your responsibility right now,” the princess interrupts. “I can see that she’s obviously capable of shutting up, so it is your failure I walked in on.”
Obviously capable of shutting up. She’s not wrong. My tongue is dry in my mouth.
The tutor’s mouth falls open and promptly shuts. She struggles to say something for long enough that the princess sighs and rolls her eyes. The movement is magnetic. She blinks, and my eyes are able to leave hers and scan her face instead.
No bruise. I think of the healer and his cryptic words. How much healing has he had to do on her? Heat burns my lungs as I struggle to breathe. I don’t want to hold anything against him, but I can’t help it. Everyone complicit in this is an enemy, yet here I am with no one to fight.
No one except the beautiful girl stretching in front of me.
She takes off her sandals and tosses them aside as if they’re not beaded with more gold than most will touch in their lifetime. I do the same to my worn pair. They may have upgraded my ceremonial clothes, but my training gear has stayed the same.
“My Princess, whenever you are ready, you get first strike,” the tutor whimpers. I don’t have to look her way to know she’s bowing her head and kneeling.
As the princess’s private combat tutor, does she know what goes on behind closed doors and the hits? Does she stay quiet too?
My body is frenetic. Tense. Vibrating with a new type of anger.
The princess has perfect timing when she lunges. One more second and I wouldn’t have been able to hold back.
This is meant to be a simple hand-to-hand session to get a sense of our combined samay. The living energy inside us should twist together like the strands of fate. It’s a rite of passage for the princess and her champion, but it’s corrupted by the fact that I am the Guardians’ Hero as well. What should be a normal ritual now feels weighted.
Every hit I block, every strike that lands, it’s not an exchange of samay. It’s not hers against mine or a push and pull. It’s just one. Every contact point is fated, while every release is temporary.
My breath catches at the realization, and that moment of distraction is all the princess needs to kick me to the ground while yanking my hands behind my back.
Her breath is on my neck. The controlled huffs from exertion cool the sweat soaking my hair. The sharp knob of her knee digs deeper into my spine, but I don’t make a single sound of pain. The warmth of her weight overtakes my thoughts.
She is my princess, but her mother has made her my rival. She is the other half of my destiny, but her mother has made her my end. She is going to kill me, and yet and yet and yet.
