The Curse of the Blessed by C Tarkington

Author:C Tarkington [Tarkington, C]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: C Tarkington
Published: 2022-08-14T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter seventeen

The next day after lunch, Mae walked out into the small western courtyard where she had been meeting Livi and Annie, expecting to find the two young women waiting for her. Instead, the prince stood in the middle of the space, less formally attired than she had ever seen him. He wore only a simple shirt and pants. His back was to her as he held a sparring sword, taking a moment to stretch before going through a few simple movements.

She watched him for a moment, unable to avoid admiring his slim but toned figure. She had decided to turn and leave and find Annie and Livi when he must have heard the swish of her skirt or her footsteps because he spun around.

He stared at her for one moment before giving a half bow. “Lady Maela, I didn’t expect to meet you out here. You must excuse my appearance.”

“Not at all, your highness. This is your home. My friends and I have been using this space to practice our magic, but we can find somewhere else.” She looked down close to his feet to see another sword lying by his discarded cloak. “You look to be waiting for someone, so I should go.”

“It’s only Lord Aimon,” replied the prince. “He is rather late, but I suppose something came up.” He bent over to pick up his cloak and the sword. “You can have the space, my lady.”

“You were meeting him to spar?”

The prince paused, his hand dropping off the sword on the ground, looking up at her and nodding. “It’s been a few weeks since we had time.” He sounded disappointed.

“Perhaps you should give him a few more minutes,” said Mae. “I’m sure he would have sent word if he couldn’t make it.” She walked further into the space. “Annie and Livi are late as well.”

“You never can tell with Thad,” sighed the prince as he stood. “You should wait with me for your friends. If Thad isn’t here by their arrival, I will relinquish the space to you.” He turned away and went through a series of moves, his sword slashing through the air.

“You have good footwork, but your arm is dipping a bit at the end,” commented Mae, thinking of the exercises her father put her through. “You will leave yourself open to an attack if you come across someone quicker than you.”

The prince turned his head and gave her a half-grin. “You are experienced in sword fighting?”

“I’ve never been in a true fight, of course, but my father taught me how to use a sword from a young age. He spent many mornings with me out by our orchard, making me learn proper footwork and fighting technique. He was known to be expertly skilled with a blade. I could not match him, but I know enough to hold my own. He insisted that I did.”

The prince considered her for a moment before bending over and picking up the other sparring sword. He held it out to her.

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