I rubbed my cheek but it didn’t really hurt. “It’s fine.”
Charging in, Zyacus said, “My turn,” and stepped in front of Aramis. I moved out of their way, my stomach suddenly dropping at the predatory gaze Zyacus had as he put his fists up.
Dragon’s fire, this is going to turn into more than a practice bout.
Aramis had to have sensed the intensity because as soon as the first strike flew, his expression hardened.
Before I knew it a couple fairly hard blows had landed from both of them and then they were grappling on the ground. Rolling, punching, and grunting like a couple of animals. I sighed. Ugh, men.
Some of the closer groups had even stopped to watch them. Our Professor stood with his arms crossed, nodding as if this was standard.
They got back up and went right back at it, fists colliding into faces, ribs, Zyacus landed a hard knee to Aramis’s gut. His breath whooshed out but he charged, driving his shoulder into the prince until they hit the ground again.
“This isn’t how we train!” I yelled when everyone else started shouting and cheering them on.
I spelled to the professor’s side. “Are you going to stop them?”
Slowly shaking his head but not taking his eyes from the fight, he said, “It’s good for men to get their aggression out sometimes. Especially when it’s over a girl.” He finally looked at me. “They’ll likely become good friends after this.”
“Only men would be great friends after beating each other up out of anger.” Then I caught onto something he said. “What do you mean over a girl? What girl?”
A pointed look from Professor Roldaheim followed my question.
Me?
Zyacus cracked Aramis with a hard right hand straight to the jaw and blood sprayed from his mouth. Aramis swayed but kept on his feet. With a remarkable recovery, a quick spin kick and his heel collided with Zyacus’s head, sending the prince to his hands and knees.
“Get up!” I roared as Aramis then kicked him in the ribs.
Lora shoved her way in beside me. “Aramis stop this right now!”
Rolling with the kick, Zyacus sprang up, but held his elbow close to the side that took the blow. He also had a swollen left eye. Aramis looked even worse with a cut on his forehead releasing a steady stream of blood down his face.
They went at each other again, taking and exchanging hits. I winced at the sound of bone crushing into flesh. “How long will you allow this?” I demanded from the professor.
“As long as it takes for one of them to concede or lose consciousness.” He paused. “Or until you, your highness, command me to stop it.”
If I commanded him to stop the fight then Zyacus could get upset with me. I would in his situation. So I folded my arms and kept peeking at Lora who averted her eyes whenever her brother got hit hard.
Finally after the two of them rolled on the ground for what seemed like several minutes but was actually probably less than thirty seconds, Zyacus got the crook of his arm under Aramis’s chin and around his neck.
“Tap out!” Lora screamed as her brother’s face turned an alarming shade of red. But he refused. Stubborn bastard.
“Enough, stop this now,” I commanded.
Professor Roldaheim sprang into action. All it took was a tap on Zyacus’s arm for him to release his opponent.
Aramis gasped for air, turning onto his side coughing and breathing heavily.
Zyacus stood, brushing off his uniform.
The class erupted into applause. I’m sure none of them had expected such a glorious well-matched fight during class.
Lora rushed to her brother’s side and then slapped him on the shoulder. “You idiot! You can’t fight the Prince of Hesstia like that in class!”
Zyacus must have heard and held out a hand to Aramis. “He can fight me like that anytime. You’re a tough bastard.”
Aramis’s swollen lips pulled into a grin. He took Zyacus’s hand and stood. “So are you. I kind of expected you to be—soft. You’re one of the best I’ve ever fought.”
Lora, looking extra small standing beside the two of them, blurted out, “What in the name of holy phoenix would ever make you think he was soft? I told you he was Tournament Champion.”
Aramis shrugged. “I thought everyone took it easy on him. I didn’t.”
I cleared my throat. “Now that you’ve got that out, the two of you need to go to the infirmary. You look terrible.”
Clearly agreeing, the class burst into laughter.
Chapter 12
Dinner proved that with this new Headmaster, things would definitely be different this year. He asked that the princes and I wear our crowns and something more formal than a uniform. Going against what previous leaders had thought, he believed future kings and queens should stand apart from the others. We shouldn’t be treated the same or interact with the students as if we were simply one of them.
“It sets a precedence for them to undermine you when you became rulers. You are not their equal,” were his exact words when he’d called the three of us into his office. He looked pointedly at me when he said, “There will be no more dish duty.”
Not that I wasn’t pleased, but I wondered how my parents felt about this or if they even knew. Also of note, professors would no longer be able to reprimand us. I half smiled thinking of Professor Deg and his vendetta against me. I briefly wondered if this is how it had always been for Zyacus. I’d never seen him punished for anything.
The seating arrangements went from three long tables that each kingdom sat at to several smaller round ones. Cloths of red, blue, and gray covered the interspersed tables so that the kingdom’s colors and students would sit next to each other. Zyacus, Aric and I sat at a rectangular table on a slightly raised platform overlooking the room. As I sat between the boys, munching on a carrot I had a difficult time distinguishing
