Royal Mistake #6 Page 16

  “The only thing we need to be certain of is our love for each other. I’m certain of that. Are you?”

  “Yes.” I smile, though I know he can’t see me in the pitch darkness. “Yes, I’m certain of that, too. I love you more than—”

  I’m interrupted with a kiss. But there’s something not right about—something almost tenuous in his touch. I reach to cup his cheek, and that’s when I feel it. Something swollen about his cheek. Something crusted on there, too. If I didn’t know better…

  He flinches under my touch, and I hear him try to cover up what almost sounds like a whimper.

  I reach for the light and turn it on. It’s obvious now why my touch caused him so much pain—both sides of his face are swollen and a shade I can only describe as a mixture of red and purple. A color I’ve seen before—the start of bruising.

  “What happened to you, Andrew?” I resist the urge to touch his face again, knowing it will only hurt him. “Did someone—?”

  “It was Reginald. And I can only hope he looks a hell of a lot worse than I do about now.” He slides closer to me. “If you had heard the things he said about you—”

  “I would have pulled you by the arm to leave. I certainly wouldn’t have allowed you to…” My voice drifts off, and I let out a sigh. “Andrew, I think we’ve been over this. I do not need you defending my honor.”

  “Victoria, I will always defend your honor, particularly now that we are to be husband and wife.”

  “You do not need to—”

  He lifts himself onto his elbow and kisses me again to stop me from speaking. And there’s something different about this kiss. It’s not only passion I feel from him, there’s something deeper. Something that makes me melt and not want to argue any longer. Something that makes me understand what it means to him to be able to defend me as he has. Not that I will ever condone him fighting like a teenager, but I can hardly complain about having someone in my life willing to fight for me. I’m not sure I’ve ever had that before Andrew.

  He guides me onto my back, deepening the kiss before he slides an arm behind me. He pulls my hand into his, lifting my arm over my head as he lowers himself onto me.

  He stops, trying to suppress a moan I can tell is pain.

  “Andrew…” I kiss him gently on the side of his mouth. “We don’t have to—”

  “Of course we don’t have to, Victoria. But I very much want to.”

  I nod, shifting myself out from under him. “I realize that, and I want to, too.” I smile, gently running my finger over the buttons of his shirt. “But we have options… I’m sure we can figure out something…some way to do this where you don’t have to do all the work.”

  He stares at me for a moment, a slow smile forming on his lips. “I believe I like the sound of this, Victoria.”

  “I thought you might.” I smile again, reaching for the light.

  He grabs me by the wrist. “Don’t. I want you to leave the light on for this.”

  My smile turns to a grin. I’m only too happy to oblige.

  Andrew

  When I wake, my entire body aches.

  Perhaps I shouldn’t have exerted myself so much. I’ve never been much of a fighter—I’ve always considered myself above such crassness—but I have to admit that a part of me is pleased with myself. It felt good, punching Reginald. I know I shouldn’t have enjoyed it so much, but that fight allowed me to release some of the energy that has been building up in me these last few weeks. Victoria doesn’t have to worry—I have no plans to engage in another fight anytime soon—but I’m glad I gave that bastard a taste of my fist.

  I roll over in bed, wincing at the sharp ache that moves through my side. I should definitely visit the royal physicians today.

  First, though, my attention is focused on something much more important. Victoria seems to sense I’m watching her, because she stirs and slowly opens her eyes.

  “Good morning,” I murmur.

  She gives me a lazy, sleepy smile. But it only lasts a moment before falling away and being replaced by a look of concern.

  “You look awful,” she says, reaching out and touching my cheek.

  I suck in a breath as her fingers press against the swollen skin beneath my eye.

  “I’m sorry,” she says quickly, pulling her hand away. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. It just…well, it looks even worse this morning than it did last night.”

  “A few battle wounds never killed anybody,” I say lightly, trying to make a joke of things.

  But I can tell by the look in her eyes that her thoughts from last night still haven’t faded, that her concern for me and my actions go beyond the bruises on my skin.

  “I’ll go see the physicians this morning,” I say gently. “And I won’t let Reginald goad me into another fight. Frankly, I’ll be surprised if he dares to show his face again.”

  She raises an eyebrow. “You don’t think this whole thing will just make him more pissed off?”

  “Fair point.” As much as I’d like to tell myself otherwise, I have a feeling we haven’t seen the last of Reginald.

  Speaking of…

  “You don’t have to enter the tournament, you know,” I tell her again.

  She hesitates, and I can tell by the look on her face that she’s been at least considering the idea of dropping out. But after a moment, she shakes her head.

  “I said I’m going to do it, and I’m going to do it,” she says.

  I prop myself up fully on my elbow, trying not to wince in the process. “You shouldn’t feel obliged to—”

  “It’s not about obligation. It’s about standing up to a bully.” She sits herself up against the pillows. “And doing it in a way that doesn’t leave anyone with a black eye.”

  “If you want to face him in the tournament, then I will be there to support you,” I say, taking her hand and brushing my lips against her knuckles. “But if he even attempts to do something untoward—”

  “What do you think he’s going to do in the middle of the tournament?”

  I look at her levelly. “He had no qualms about insulting Montovia and suggesting my father is about to die in the middle of the street. I can’t even begin to imagine what he might say or do when he’s up against you. The man has no manners or morals.”

  She frowns, and I can see the wheels working in her mind.

  I tighten my grip on her hand. “As I said, you don’t have to enter—”

  “And what sort of message will that send? I’m not afraid of him, Andrew. I refuse to let some dick call the shots.”

  In spite of everything, I find myself fighting back a smile. The Victoria I know and love isn’t one to back down from a challenge.

  “The tournament begins at three this afternoon,” I say. “I have to meet King Maximilian this morning, but I should be able to be there for most of the competition. I certainly should be there by the time you go up against Reginald. The championship rounds won’t happen until the evening.”

  She nods, and I kiss the back of her hand again.

  “Shall I order us some breakfast?” I say.

  She shakes her head. “I think I’m going to go out to the gymnasium and warm up. And you should go see the doctors before you meet Maximilian. Maybe they can give you something to help with the swelling.”

  I frown. I didn’t even think about the fact that I’ll be facing Maximilian with a face full of bruises from his son and friends. No doubt the king has already received word of the scuffle, though I doubt his son gave him a very accurate description of the events. No doubt he’ll try and use this incident as leverage against me.

  I rub my forehead. This is going to be a very long morning.

  “Go,” Victoria urges me. “I’ll be fine. I always liked to spend some time alone before a big match. It helps me clear my head. And I’m sure you have a lot to do if you’re going to make it to the tournament on time.”

  I do. And as much as I hate to leave her, I know she’s right.

  �
�I’ll be fine,” she tells me again. “Go.”

  I lean over to brush my lips against hers. “I’ll be there this afternoon.”

  She smiles. “I know. And I’ll do my best to kick that dickwad’s ass.”

  I laugh. “Ah, I can’t wait to see the look on his face.”

  And in spite of the unenviable task of spending the next several hours arguing with King Maximilian, I have a feeling this is going to be a very good day.

  Victoria

  I spend the morning practicing in the gym alone. There are special rules for fencing in these competitions—some of them are much different than the Olympic rules I’ve been used to—and it makes me all the more nervous.

  Part of me had hoped William might show up this morning—truth be told, I could use the company. Andrew doesn’t want to pressure me about this competition—and he hasn’t—but I’m still feeling a tremendous burden, both to Andrew and to the people of Montovia. I’m not sure exactly what it is about William, but I can talk to him about things like that. Almost as though he’s my brother.

  I smile to myself at the thought. Perhaps I can find a place in this family, after all.

  The palace is deserted—or seems to be—when it’s time for me to leave to enter the competition. There’s no sign of Andrew anywhere—he’s probably still dealing with King Maximilian—so I head back to the town square without him, hoping I’ve committed the special rules of this tournament to memory.

  I wait for Andrew for what seems like an eternity, almost hoping he’ll arrive to stop me from doing something that might be the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. If Prince Reginald really is as good as everyone says he is, I probably have no chance against him. And it’s not that I’m a woman, either. I’ve beaten my share of men in fencing competitions, but I’m out of practice. And to say I’m distracted doesn’t really even come close to describing what I’m going through now.

  Torn. That’s what I am. Torn between wanting to help Andrew—to clean up this godforsaken scepter mess once and for all—and not wanting to make a fool of myself in front of the people I may very well one day lead. If I marry Andrew…

  If I marry Andrew… My heart is still doing weird palpitations at the thought.

  Despite Andrew’s promises, he still hasn’t arrived when the tournament finally begins.

  The first several rounds are easy—young townsmen who have entered for a laugh, for the most part, though there is one young man who gives me somewhat of a run before I finally beat him.

  The quarterfinal is a bit more of a challenge. The man I’m fencing keeps up with me touch for touch until I mount a rally near the end of our joust, scoring three points in a row before time runs out.

  I take a seat on the side of the stage to watch the other quarterfinal matches. Reginald beats his opponent easily—he’s quite skilled, and I can see why he’s won most of these festival tournaments around Europe. He’s probably good enough to compete on an international level, though I suppose as a prince, he has more important things than fencing to concern himself with on a daily basis.

  The third quarterfinal match is also over rather quickly—the reigning champion of a local fencing club soundly beats another member of the same club. And in the final match, William beats a young duke from a small province in Montovia.

  I’m still not sure who I’ll face in the semifinal match. Names are drawn before each round to keep the tournament fair, though I’m almost crossing my fingers that I don’t draw Reginald just yet. I’d much rather face him in the final—I know I can take William, and the other competitor seems like he will be about equal in competition.

  A big production is made about the drawing of the names. An announcement is made that Queen Penelope is unable to perform the drawing as is her usual duty at the festival and that instead, Princess Sophia will draw.

  She grins at me, then at her brother as she takes the stage. She draws Reginald’s name first. As for who Prince Reginald will face, I swear she cheats—I’m pretty sure I see her put the name back twice before she draws the name of the fencer from the club.

  “And in the other semifinal match, Prince William of Montovia will face Victoria of America.” Sophia grins, turning her gaze between the two of us. “Let the semifinal matches begin!”

  William is sitting on the other end of the row of seats, so I can’t ask him how he feels about me taking on Reginald in the final, should it come to that. I’m also not sure how he feels about me beating him in front of the Montovian people. It might be better for me to bow out now—somewhat gracefully, at least—lest I embarrass him. That’s really the last thing I want, and not something I had even considered when I entered this competition.

  Reginald, I have no problem embarrassing. William, on the other hand… It probably isn’t worth the humiliation for either of us.

  He walks over to me, holding his mask under his arm. He glances at the match between Reginald and the other young man before he turns his gaze to mine. “What do you think?”

  I shrug, watching the two men spar for a moment. “He’s very good.”

  William nods. “Can you take him?”

  “I don’t know. Can you?”

  He shakes his head. “It’s come down to me and Reginald too many times over the years. I’ve never beaten him, Victoria. I came close once…but it wasn’t really even that close.”

  I nod, watching Reginald easily score point after point on the other man with Lady Clarissa cheering for him from the front row.

  “It’s up to you, Victoria. I’m used to losing to him. But I do think you can put up a much better fight against him than I’ll be able to.”

  I can’t think of any way to respond—there’s no easy answer. I finally look back over at William. “How bad will it be if you lose to me?”

  He lifts a brow. “Bad.” He stares at me for a moment before he grins. “Though, I’ll happily lose to you if you can beat that bastard. Especially after what he did last night.”

  “Yeah.” I shake my head, turning my gaze back to the match. “God, that guy is a dick, isn’t he?”

  “That, he is.” William lets out a long breath. “But don’t feel that you have to do this to prove that as a point, Victoria. Everyone on the continent knows what a dick Prince Reginald is.”

  William’s voice must carry, because when the point is done, Reginald turns to look at us.

  William chuckles. “And he’s far too worried about what other people think of him.” He’s silent for a moment. “Though, come to think of it, it isn’t as though there’s anything on the line. I still haven’t heard anything from Andrew, have you?”

  “No.” I turn to look over the crowd, but Andrew still isn’t here. “I guess if the scepter isn’t on the line, we’re all just making asses of ourselves, aren’t we?”

  William laughs. “Some of us more than others, I’m afraid.” He pulls his mask on as the other match has completed. “Shall we then? I’m ready to make an ass of myself so you can make an ass of Reginald, Victoria.”

  I look at him for a moment before I pull on my own mask. I’m not sure I really want to make an ass of anyone—especially myself, but also not William.

  I know what I need to do. I need to withdraw.

  And I lift my épée to do just that when William turns to the judge, his own weapon lifted. “I withdraw.”

  My mouth falls open and I start to protest, but William pulls off his mask. “Take him, Victoria.”

  I nod, lowering my épée.

  William walks off the stage and Reginald takes his place. We both pull on our masks before saluting each other.

  As I feared, as soon as we begin to spar, Reginald begins to speak. “I’m surprised Andrew allows you to debase yourself in this manner, Victoria.”

  I don’t say anything and try to shut his voice out of my mind, instead focusing all my energy on learning how he responds to each move of mine. He has an interesting way of lifting his elbow each time I parry. I think I can take advantage of it, b
ut it’s a little too early to tell.

  We spar for far longer than any other point I’ve had so far today, with Reginald finally scoring the first point.

  We reset and begin the next point before Reginald speaks again. “You’re not bad.”

  “Thank you.” I see an opening and touch him on the chest, scoring my first point.

  He nods and we start to fence again. “I didn’t say you were good, however.”

  I don’t answer, trying to find any other weakness of his I can exploit. He may not have said I was good, but there’s no way I’m telling him that he’s very good. By far the best opponent I’ve faced in a long time.

  We trade points for the next minute, and he’s up by one point before he speaks again. “You know there is nothing on the line in this match, do you not?”

  “Nothing but your pride, Reginald.”

  He chuckles. “I have no intention of losing to you tonight, Victoria. Though I do think we can make this bout interesting.”

  He must lose his focus for a split second, because I’m able to touch him easily, evening the score again.

  “What do you say, Victoria? Are you in?”

  “In for what?” We cross weapons again, battling each other in another long point.

  “I’ll hand over the rights to Andrew’s precious scepter. Call my father off.”

  “In exchange for what?”

  He touches me on the shoulder with the tip of his épée, scoring a point. “In exchange for you calling off your engagement.”

  My brow furrows and I don’t raise my sword to begin the next point just yet. “Why? Why would you care about my engagement?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t. Not about you, at any rate. But your fiancé humiliated my sister. And for that, he will pay.”

  I shake my head, lifting my weapon to fight again. “How about if I beat you, you hand over the rights to the scepter, no questions asked?”

  “You won’t beat me, Victoria.” He spars with me for only a second, scoring a point on me easily. He looks at me for a moment before backing up behind his line. “Do you really think you’ve scored a single point on me legitimately?” He cocks his head. “Do you think I really lift my elbow like a chicken when I fence? Have you not been watching my other matches today?”