The crisp midday air breezed over the two young swordsmen, who stood face-to-face, their wooden swords pointed at each other. Neither made a move. They were still—Kyra was calculating her every move while Gabriel watched her, inching forward as she inched forward. The tensions were high, and neither had made a move in a while. Isaac stood by the courtyard doors, watching them with anticipation. Kyra launched forward, jabbing the sword towards his shoulder. Gabriel thought quickly and moved back; however, Kyra was perceptive. She ducked down faster than Gabriel could think and whacked the wooden sword on his ankle. The prince lost his balance and fell on his buttocks.
Isaac and Kyra waited for his reaction, wondering when he was going to storm off, although he promised not to. And he kept his promise. The young prince held his hand out for Kyra to grab, and she did, pulling him up.
“It looks like you’re getting used to defeat.” She cracked, smiling at the young man. Gabriel softly smiled, letting go of her hands as he wiped his bum, getting rid of the dust from his bum.
“I'm not getting used to it. More so, learning to accept it—for now.” He replied, his smile turning into a grin.
“Good. We’re going to have to learn martial arts and how to be agile,” she said, looking him down, “so you know how to use that big body of yours.” She added. Gabried nodded, and the two split up and headed in different directions. Thus, they began their training.
******
Snickers, screams, and singing meshed together to create a disharmony of sounds. A chorus of clapping overshadowed the nefarious actions being conducted behind the stage. A tall, lanky, pale-skinned woman with a large black wig, filled with pearls and flowers. She was adorned with various jewellery, and she wore a pale blue illustrious gown. She continued belting high notes, lifting her hands to her sides. The classical instrumental reached its peak, and it got dramatic. Finally, the last high note was hit, and the crowd stood, erupting into a louder cheer.
The standing ovation was long, dramatic, and loud, echoing across the theatre. The singular light went out, engulfing the arena in darkness. The soprano got off the little stand she stood on and walked off to behind the stage. Upon entering the area, a sinister aura coated her body as meek-looking women stood in the line. One young woman was on her knees, with her neck encased in a spiked collar, digging into her neck.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
The young woman’s face was pale as blood continuously trickled down her neck. Her screams echoed across the entirety of the song and had died down by the end of it.
“I’m guessing she failed to successfully infiltrate the palace.” The singer spoke, her icy blue eyes staring down at the young girl’s limp body. A gremlin-like man nodded, his rat teeth moving around as he did. With a single swipe of the singer’s hand, the young girl’s head came off, tumbling to the ground and splattering blood everywhere.
“I’ll do it myself. I am Catherine Mycal. The greatest entertainer Aerion has ever seen!” She mindlessly boasted. “Fetch me peasant clothing and a new mask.” The man scurried away and grabbed what she needed. She grabbed the fair-skinned mask, which had ginger hair sprawling out of it, and placed it on her face.
{Would you like to transform into this mask? Yes/No}
Catherine agreed, and her body slowly morphed into the mask. Her lankiness changed into a curvaceous figure with a fuller face. Her blue eyes dulled into brown, and her black hair changed into frizzy, gingery hair. She stripped in front of the woman, man, and show staff and wore the green, tattered kirtle.
When the great actress looked like a peasant, she rushed out of the theatre and towards Irion Palace.
******
The sun had set, and both Kyra and the prince were breathing heavily, sweat dripping down their bodies and onto the grass. The entire first half of the training session had been Kyra flipping Gabriel on the ground and trying to fix the prince’s heavy and slow strikes. The second half, however, had Gabriel learning a little bit of agility. He dodged and even landed successful attacks on the young girl, much to Isaac’s surprise.
The said girl took a deep breath and stood up straight, wiping the sweat from her face with the back of her sleeve.
“I’m so fucking hungry!” She yelled, throwing her hands up in the air. Gabriel looked at her with widened eyes before his expression softened.
“I’ll have the cooks prepare a hefty dinner.” Isaac spoke.
“And make it meaty.” Kyra replied, running after the crimson-haired butler. Gabriel stood in his spot, looking down at his calloused hands. With the amount of time he had spent training with the sword and learning new techniques, he was finally learning something. Finally getting something through his head. He looked over to Kyra, who had her arm wrapped around Isaac, mindlessly requesting the various dishes she wanted to eat.
It was all thanks to her. The young prince walked up to them and gently shoved them inside.
“There’s only so much my cooks can do. So try and be a little courteous.” Gabriel joked.
“I'm a hungry woman. So try and be a little courteous.” Kyra joked back and nudged him gently. Isaac watched the young people interact with a sense of warmth.