A Prince's Pride

*Aaron*

When I wake up, Milo is still fast asleep, his head tilted toward me, his mouth hanging open. I decide to let him sleep as I get up, leave Milo a note, and make my way downstairs, Oswald and one of the other guards accompanying me. 

Down in the dining room, I find Riley sitting with Gavin. She laughs as he throws a grape up into his mouth and catches it. When he sees me, he holds a grape up, aims at me, and throws it. His aim is so good, I don't even have to dip my head to catch it in my mouth, even though I'm walking. 

"Nice one, Your Majesty," says Gavin as I sit down. When one of the waiters notices me, she practically runs over to my table and gives me a low bow. 

"I apologize for your wait, Your Majesty," says the waiter, though I've only been sitting for about ten seconds. "Can I start you off with anything to drink?"

I look at the table and notice Riley and Gavin are both drinking mimosas, a large pitcher sitting in the middle of the table surrounded by eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns, and toast. 

"I'll just have some of this," I say, indicating the pitcher. 

"As you wish, Your Majesty," she says with another low bow. "I'll come by in a while and see if you need anything else." She bows one more time before walking away. 

"Wow, she didn't bow to me like that," Riley comments, looking over her shoulder at the server. 

"Well," I say, pouring myself a mimosa, "you're not an emperor."

"He's right, you know," says Gavin. "You're just a princess." He winks at Riley, then raises his glass. "Here's to you on your honeymoon, Your Imperial Majesty, Aaron Heris, Emperor of Theo, and Ruler of Midoor."

Gavin bows as low as he can without his forehead touching the table and both he and Riley start laughing. I ignore his teasing as I take a sip of my drink. It's delicious. 

"Where is Milo, anyway?" asks Riley. 

"Still sleeping upstairs. He looked so peaceful and I didn't want to disturb him. He's always so worried."

"To be fair," says Riley, taking a sip of her mimosa, "he has been through a lot."

I nod as I chew my food. 

"Well, I have a grand idea,” says Gavin. “Why don’t we let Milo have a bit of a lie in and the three of us take a little jaunt through the city? I lost a bet against your sister and I’d quite like to repay her with something pretty. Though, finding anything nearly as pretty as her will be an impossible feat, I’m quite sure.”

As Riley lets out a silly giggle, my eyes roll so far back into my head, I’m sure I see my brain for a second.

“I think I’ll pass,” I say. I really don’t want to be a third wheel to  my sister and her new…whatever he is.

“Oh, come on, big brother!” Riley begs. “It’ll be fun. We’ll stop by a few market stalls, go to a couple of bars, and there’s an archery range I want to stop by. With how they treat women here, I’d love to see some Sandalian men’s shocked faces when a woman outshoots them.”

“It’ll be fun, Emperor Aaron,” says Gavin. 

“Fine,” I say, draining my glass in three quick gulps. “Let’s go.”

As we make our way toward the front door of the hotel, four of the guards in the lobby join Oswald and they follow us out onto the street.

Though it’s pretty early, the streets are already bustling with people and camel-drawn carts. The Hotel Taj is set in the Royal District of the City of Wan, which houses the Kahl Majal, the Grand Court of Sandalia, and the homes of the wealthiest and most influential people of the country. Set right along Merchant Grove, getting to the rows of stands and shops is no task at all.

Immediately, I wish Milo were with us. This is our honeymoon, after all. If I’m being honest with myself, I’m still a little upset with him for the way he’s treated Olivia. She didn’t mean to do what she did. She isn’t our enemy. Sure, I wish it wouldn’t have happened, but we can’t change that now. 

And, considering how she’s carrying my child, she’s going to be in our lives. If she wants to be. I won’t force her to help raise the child if she doesn’t want to, but I won’t force her to be out of our child’s life either.

The first shop we enter is a clothing shop. It’s only now, that we’re surrounded by clothes, that I realize Riley is wearing a plain blue shirt and a pair of pants. I don’t know how I didn’t realize before, considering I can count the number of times I’ve seen her wearing something other than a dress using the fingers on my two hands.

Riley gasps as her eyes land on the very first dress she sees. Truly, it’s very beautiful. The fabric is a shiny green, almost as though it were made of melted emerald. It’s trim is lined with gold, with a delicate pattern of swirling silver trailing along the skirt. It looks long enough to come past her shins, though there’s a slit up the left side of it. Judging by how tight the bodice is, it will leave very little to the imagination.

“Is that the dress you want me to buy?” asks Gavin. I can tell from his tone that he both wants her to get it to pay off his debt to her quickly and that he’s worried about the price.

“Oh, no,” says Riley. “I’m buying this for myself.” She turns on me and adds, “And don’t you dare try to tell me not to.”

I raise my hands up in surrender. “I wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, my dear,” says a worker in the shop, approaching Riley and looking her up and down. I can tell the worker doesn’t know who Riley is, just by her expression. “I’m not sure if this is a dress you can afford. It’s 7,000 Sandar, after all.”

“Excuse me?!” says Riley, outraged, but I can see where the worker is coming from. In her plain clothes, with our guards standing at the entrance, Riley doesn’t look like a princess. 

“Forgive me, dear,” says the worker in a scathing tone, holding her hand out as if to snatch the dress from Riley’s hands, “but one can tell when they have worked for as long as I have in this field. You would not even know how to properly wear the garment.”

“Me, not know how to wear it?” she asks. “Look at yourself. It’s clear they don’t even pay you enough to shop at your own store. That dress was fashionable in 2406, maybe. So if you’re 200 years old, I can see why you’d like it. Maybe that’s why you do your makeup the way you do. Although, I must say it doesn’t make you look younger.” 

The worker is wearing a crumpled gray dress with an orange leather belt. The buckle on the belt has some kind of design on it, but it’s faded so much you can’t tell what it is. I don’t know much about makeup, but hers is exaggerated, like she erased her face with powder and drew on sharp eyebrows, then rolled her face across her makeup table, accepting whatever stuck. It’s similar to the jesters they host in the courts of Daila, though they call them clowns.

“And what would someone like you know about fashion anyway?” asks the woman, clearly incensed, her hand still outstretched.

“I,” says Riley, standing up to her full height, “am Riley Heris, Princess of the Empire of Theo and second in line for the throne of Midoor. Your jaw would drop if you saw my closet.”

It probably would. Riley’s entire collection of clothes equates to roughly 7 million Gold Crowns. That’s the total sum estimate of the four thrones sitting in my throne room.

The woman’s hand falls at the same time as her jaw drops. She looks between me and Riley, and I know she recognizes me. “Oh, Your Highness,” says the woman, giving Riley a ridiculous bow, which she holds and speaks looking toward the ground, “I did not mean to offend. I had no idea who you were. Please, pick out whatever you would like and I will give you a twenty-five percent discount.”

Riley looks around the shop, disgust evident on her face. “With the way you treat your customers?” she asks. “I wouldn’t spend a single coin here.” Riley throws the dress at the woman, draping it over her back, turns on her heel, and marches from the shop. I catch a glimpse of Riley’s face as she passes me and can tell how much she wants the dress.

When I turn and look back at the woman, she’s holding the dress in her hands, a sour look on her face.

“She is right,” she says to me. “Here, have the dress.” She holds it out to me, but I don’t take it yet.

“Are you sure? Won’t you get in trouble?”

“My daughter owns this shop, dear. I’m just watching it for her while she…” she snaps her mouth shut then, like she almost said something bad.

“She what?” I ask, but the woman shakes her head violently, holding the dress out to me.

“She’s just…uh…feeling under the weather. Nothing strange. Here, take this dress and go after your sister.” In a whisper, she adds, “Please, quickly now.”

I take the dress and follow Riley out, my mind racing. What had that woman been about to say?

Outside, Riley is fuming, talking very quickly to Gavin.

“...the nerve of her,” says Riley, “judging me just because I’m not wearing fancy clothes. It’s so hot here, I’d ruin all of my dresses with my sweat. That fucking bitch shouldn’t be judging people just because—” Riley stops when she sees me holding the dress. “You bought it? Aaron, you idiot! We shouldn’t be wasting our money on trash people like—”

“She gave it to me for free!” I say loudly, cutting her off. I want to tell her about the woman’s weird attitude, but people all around the street are looking at us now and I’m not sure now is the time. “Let’s just keep shopping. Here, Gavin, you hold this.”

Gavin takes the dress from me and turns to Riley, who seems mollified.

“Well, serves her right,” she says, crossing her arms. “She shouldn’t treat people that way.”

“I agree with you,” I say. “Look, why don’t we go to the archery range? You’re all riled up and it’ll be good to get some aggression out.”

“You’re right,” she says. “Follow me.”

Riley starts marching away so Gavin, Oswald, our three other guards, and I follow her. I’m surprised Riley has learned to make her way through the City of Wan so easily, considering how short of a time we’ve been here, but she must have visited the archery range during the time Milo and I spent together on our first day here.

As we make our way down the streets, I look more closely at the people around us and try to catch a snippet of their conversations.

“...she was picked in the drawing, the poor family…” one woman was saying.

“...maybe it won’t be her. Maybe she’ll come home…” a man was saying to his sobbing wife.

We pass a group of Krishan standing outside someone’s house, taking to parents who look stricken.

“...she was picked. We need to take her…”

Riley is too upset about the woman in the shop to notice and Gavin is too busy watching Riley’s ass that he doesn’t notice. As we pass the Krishan, they and the parents stop talking. The Krishan look at me with anger, silently telling us to pass without comment, while the parents look at me as if hoping I intervene. I don’t.

When we get to the archery range, I’m surprised to see it’s indoors. Inside, a man is standing at a counter, stringing a bow.

“Hello, hello!” he calls out jovially to us as we approach.

“Sirs, are you here for a little archery practice?” he asks me and Gavin. He doesn’t even glance at Riley.

“No, she is,” I say, pointing to her. 

His face shows utter shock as he says, “But she is a woman.”

“Oh, for the love of the gods!” shouts Riley, her anger boiling over. “I am the Princess of Midoor. I am not Sandalian. I don’t care about your rules, or your traditions, or what you think is proper. If I want to shoot a godsdamned bow, I’m going to.”

“But, women—”

“I’m going to stop you while you’re ahead,” I say, stepping between Riley and the man. “My name is Aaron Heris, I’m the Emperor of Theo and this is my sister. We’re here to shoot some arrows. So why don’t you just take our money, give us some bows, and let it be?”

“Of course, sir. Would the lady like some general archery instruction? No extra charge for a first time shooter.”

“Well, she actually—”

“You know what?” says Riley, suddenly sounding like an innocent, happy girl. “I would appreciate that. I’ve never actually held a bow before. I do apologize for my outburst. It was most unlady-like of me.”

The man’s face breaks into a smile and he looks at Riley like she’s some kind of simpleton who made a mistake.

“But, of course, Your Highness,” he says with a small bow of his head. He turns to a big, burly man standing at the edge of the counter. “Roda, please help the lady? Perhaps give her the smallest bow?”

“If it would please you, sir,” says Riley, “I’d like to try a full-size one.”

“You are a brave one,” says the man, “but I’m not sure you will be able to pull back the string.”

“I’ll try,” says Riley, nodding her head as if ready for a challenge.

“Very well. Roda?”

Roda grabs a medium sized bow as I hand the man some money and pick out a medium-sized bow as well. Gavin declines, saying he’s not much for archery and Roda leads us into the back.

A row of archery targets hangs on the far wall, while several men stand, aim, and shoot. They’re all terrible. Though they’re hitting the targets themselves, none of them land in the bullseye.

“Oh, wow, this is a bit intimidating,” says Riley in a small voice.

“Would you prefer a private room?” asks Roda.

“No,” says Riley, tensing herself up as if steeling herself. “Let’s get started. Do you mind if I shoot first?” she adds to me.

“No, please, go right ahead. I’ll watch and give you pointers if you need them.”

Riley gives me a wink but Roda, who stands behind her, can’t see. In truth, Riley is much better with a bow than I am.

“Allow me to show you the proper way to shoot,” says Roda.

He walks up to the standing line with his bow, explaining what the different parts of the bow are called. He grabs an arrow, notches it, explaining everything step-by-step. As he does this, the other men in the room take notice that a woman is being taught and smile to each other, talking in hushed tones. They all stop to watch as Roda lets the string go and launches his arrow. He gets much closer to the center target than anyone else, but doesn’t hit it.

“Here, now you try,” says Roda, handing her a quiver. Riley swings it over her head, bumping her head on purpose, and the men start laughing, covering their mouths.

“Oops,” says Riley. She holds the bow up, grabs an arrow, and notches it. Riley takes a breath as all the Sandalian men in the room look on with dubious looks.

Riley pulls the arrow back and first, landing her arrow straight in the center. One-by-one, she pulls out arrow after arrow from the quiver and hits not just the center of her own target, but each target in the room. 

“Now, to hit all the arrows on the targets,” she says. Again, she rapid fires each arrow, hitting the exact point each arrow already stuck in the board has hit, even knocking a few down.

When she turns to look at the men in the room, all of their jaws have dropped and it’s clear they’re stunned to see a woman can do anything but look pretty and have children.

Riley turns and looks at Roda. 

“Would you like any pointers?” she asks.

*Milo*

“Godsdamn it,” I say when I wake up and realize the feeling from last night hasn’t gone away. I’m not sure if it’s some kind of magical sense or I’m just worried over nothing, but I have a bad feeling. Something wrong is happening, but I don’t know what.

When I turn to look at Aaron, I’m surprised to see he isn’t in bed and instantly think this is what my bad feeling is about. That Phoebe followed us to Sandalia and is holding him hostage, but then I find a note from Aaron, telling me he’s going downstairs. I was hoping for some morning sex, but at least he’s okay.

I get up, get dressed, and leave the room to find Exavier standing outside.

“Good morning, Your Majesty,” he says. “Emperor Aaron went downstairs for breakfast this morning. He wanted me to make sure to tell you.”

“I saw the note,” I say with a smile. Of course Aaron would make sure Exavier would tell me too, in case I jumped out of bed in a panic and missed the note.

“That was a while ago. I doubt he’s down there now. Maybe he went out?”

“Probably. I’m fine with that. I want to get another lesson in with Rija today anyway.”

“Is that…wise, Your Majesty?” he asks. When I raise my eyebrow in question, he adds, “These doors don’t block much sound. We kind of heard you arguing.”

I’m kind of embarrassed, because if they heard that, there’s no way they missed Aaron’s moans last night, but I suppose they’ve heard them before.

“There’s nothing going on between me and Rija except magical training,” I say. “Let’s go get something to eat and head up to the palace.”

After we’ve eaten, I realize very quickly there’s no reason to head to the palace to find Rija. As we’re walking out of the Hotel Taj, Prince Rija is walking toward the door, a huge smile spread across his face.

“Milo, my friend!” he says, his smile widening. “Just the man I was coming to see! I was hoping we could have another lesson this morning.”

“Are you a seer?” I ask. “I was thinking the exact same thing.”

“Good. Let us now go to my training room.”

Rija leads us up toward the palace where the Krishan standing outside bow as we pass.

“Rija, why don’t guards follow you through the city?” I ask. It’s odd to me, because each member of the Midoorian Royal Family have sworn protectors and are surrounded by guards at all times. Riley’s sworn protector couldn’t come on the trip this time, but she’s still guarded everywhere.

“Ah, my father, the Sultan, only has his Trifecton, that is to say his eldest three children, guarded at all times. The farther down the line of succession you are, the less he tends to care.”

“That royally sucks,” I say and can tell by the smile on Rija’s face he didn’t miss the pun. 

“It does, as you say, suck, but such is my life.”

Rija leads us up through the palace until we approach a large, ornate door. When it swings open, I realize it’s not exactly a training room, it’s Rija’s bedroom.

“I though we were going to a training room,” I say. “Are you just changing first?”

“Oh, no,” says Rija with a laugh. “I train my magic in my room. Do not worry, I will not bite you.”

He strides inside and I follow him but, before Exavier can come in, Rija snaps his fingers and the door slams shut.

“Your Majesty?” Exavier asks through the door.

“What the hell, Rija?” I ask, but Rija holds his hands up in surrender.

“I did not mean it to close that hard,” he says. “It would be better, I think, if he waited outside. Our magic is powerful and neither of us have great control. It would be safer for him if he stays outside, I think.”

I can’t argue that, so I say through the door, “Don’t worry, Exavier, I’m fine. Just guard the door.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” says Exavier, in a tone that tells me he clearly thinks this is a bad idea.

When I turn back to Rija, I notice he’s taken several steps toward me, leaving less than a foot of space between us.

“Are you ready to get started?” he asks, looking at me with those big, brown eyes. I almost feel as if I could fall into them. His voice is soft and somewhat melodic. I feel my heartbeat quicken.

“Yeah,” I say. “Actually, I was hoping you could explain something to me.”

“Oh?”

I explain to him what happened when we faced Zelda, how I was almost possessed by magic.

“That is what we call an ascendent state. It is when you have allowed magic to consume you. It changes your communion from thought, as with most advocates, to will. Instead of your thoughts producing magic, your base desires are granted. It takes decades to master this ability, if you ever can. But this means you are a most powerful practitioner.”

“I see,” I say. “So what do you want to get started on?”

“First, let’s see what you have learned.” Rija steps away from me and I can feel his absence, as if the simple act of him moving away from me has left a hole in me.

I take a deep breath as I follow him into the middle of the room.

“Hold out your hands,” he says. “This time, we will only try to control the element of air, rather than fire. It is less dangerous and more fluid, so it may be harder for you to control.”

“How so?”

“Each practitioner has a natural element, called their elemental tune. Mine is fire. I can tell, from our interaction the other day, that yours is lightning. Lightning is rigid. Because air is much more like a flowing fluid, it is one of your opposites. Hold out your hands, like the other day.”

I do, and Rija places his hands on the outsides of mine. I feel a heat creep up from the spot where our skin touches. It spreads over me, warming my entire body. Rija’s magic flows into me and I feel the air between our palms start to swirl and fold, forming a ball.

“Like air, fire is fluid, so I am accustomed to controlling it. I know this is something you can do, where you can hold magic created by another person, but I want to practice what we call magical melding.”

“Piper has told me about that,” I say. “It’s when two practitioners use their magic in tandem.”

“Exactly. It is like that children’s game, tugging wars. We must ebb and flow together, our magic never overtaking the other’s. I am going to try changing the direction of the airflow and you should sense it, flow with me, not against me, so the bubble of air does not break.”

I nod, looking into Rija’s eyes. The ball of wind between us makes his hair and clothes flutter slightly, making me feel as though we’re standing on a windswept hill. I turn my focus to the ball of air in our hands and push my own magic into it, trying to match the flow of Rija’s. It takes me a moment, but I eventually get it down.

“Very good,” says Rija. “I’m going to take a step closer to you, so we have less space to work with. Easier to control.”

He does, and we’re less than a foot apart again. Heat radiates off his body, warming my front side, while the wind swirling around us cools my back.

“Try to do it without looking at it. It will teach you better control. Just look at me.”

I look up into Rija’s eyes. They glow slightly, an indication he’s using magic. I know mine must glow as well. I can still sense the magic between us.

“I’m going to change direction. Are you ready?” 

I nod and I feel the flow of magic start to change direction, and mentally lean into it. Rija does it gently at first, just changing the direction slightly, and it’s easy enough to keep up. Then, he pulls the magic in the other direction, sharply, I feel the ball start to quiver, but correct it. It takes a couple of minutes of this before I’m able to act in almost synchronicity with him.

Our magic dances between our hands and it feels as though we’re really dancing, as though our bodies are swaying in time to music we’re making with our powers. Looking into Rija’s eyes, I feel as if I’m falling, diving into him. My body sings as our magic swoops and swirls, folding together, combining, and separating.

I take a step closer to him as the music in my body swells and Rija’s eyes start to get bigger and bigger. As his pupils enlarge and I feel like they’re going to swallow me hole. I fall into his eyes as the wind around us swirls, a gust of something I don’t have a name for as our lips meet and he folds me into his arms, our bodies pressing up against one another, yearning for one another like a man who’s wandered the desert for weeks on end yearns for water.

Our kissing becomes heavier as the magic and music swells within us and I feel my feet leave the ground, our clothes being whipped by the wind created by us.

When I realize what’s happening, I pull myself away from Rija and we go crashing to the ground. 

I stand first and back away from Rija as he looks up at me, horror-struck.

“I am so sorry,” he says. “I got caught up in the—Milo, wait!”

I storm out of the room, leaving Rija behind, and ignore Exavier’s questions as he follows me down the hallway.

I have to find Aaron and tell him what happened, though I’m confused about it myself. Did he kiss me, or did I kiss him? Was it mutual? I don’t even know how I feel about it.

Someone grabs my arm and pulls me around to face them. I’m sure it’s Exavier, and I’m shocked he’s grabbed me like this, but then I realize it’s Rija.

“Milo, wait. Let us talk about this, please,” he says.

“Let me go, Rija,” I warn. I don’t know if it’s the look on my face or my tone of voice, but he releases me as if my skin burns him. But it’s my skin that burns from his touch. Even after he’s let my arm go, I can still feel the spot where his hand was. I look at him and am momentarily lost for words as I look into his eyes. I want to kiss him again, to be enveloped in his arms. But it has to be a byproduct of the magic we performed. That’s it. That’s all it is.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I say. “Aaron was right; we shouldn’t have done this.”

I turn to walk and Rija matches my stride.

“Where are you going?” he asks. 

“I’m going to find Aaron and tell him we kissed.”

I hear a gasp behind me and know it’s Exavier, but I ignore it.

“Are you sure you should be saying that near your guard?” asks Rija.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Because he will not betray you?”

“Not only that, but I’m telling Aaron anyway. Please, Rija leave me alone.”

“Milo—” Rija grabs my arm again and I get pissed. I turn on him and thrust my hand out, lifting him off his feet, and slamming him into the wall of a building near us.

Rija looks up at me with hurt and betrayal in his eyes, but I don’t care.

“Rija, leave. Me. Alone.”

I turn my back on Rija and start marching down the road again.

*Aaron*

Since coming to Sandalia, I’ve had a preconceived notion that the men here would be irreversibly misogynistic, so it was a surprise when the men of the archery range, rather than be angry or overtly surprised that a woman could outshoot them, they started asking Riley for tips, asking her to correct their form.

When we leave the archery range, Riley is in a much better mood. As she’s standing outside talking to the owner, the woman from the dress shop peaks her head around a corner of the range and waves me over to her. Oswald and our other guards are paying attention to Riley, so I’m able to meet her at the corner without being followed.

“Your Majesty, you must help me,” she says. “I wasn’t supposed to say anything to you. I really shouldn’t be, but I don’t know what else to do.”

“What is it?” I ask. “I can tell something weird is happening here.”

“Yes, the drawing,” she says. I’ve heard other people talking about a drawing, but it doesn’t sound like the kind of thing most people want to win.

“A drawing for what?”

“Every year on this day, all women between the ages of twenty and twenty-five must put their names up for a drawing. Five names are picked and those five women are taken into custody. The Sultan then has them fight to the death and the winner must sleep with him. If the woman does not become pregnant, he executes her. 

“A woman hasn’t beared a child for him in many years. My daughter, who owns the shop, was picked in the drawing. I—I don’t want her to go through that.”

“I’m sorry, but what can I do about it?”

“Go back to Midoor and bring your army here. Free us from—”

The woman stops speaking, looking past me with horror in her eyes. I spin around to see Riley, Gavin, Oswald, and our guards surrounded by Krishan.

“You are all coming with us,” says a tall, dark man.

“Attacking me is an act of war,” I warn. 

“The Sultan knows what he’s doing,” says the Krishan. Two others come from around him and bind my wrists behind my back. “Take them up to the palace!”

As we approach the Kahl Majal, I see Milo and Piper, wrists and mouths also bound, waiting for us. They look at me sadly as we’re led into the palace.

---

Author's Note:

Sorry for the delay on this. I've been really busy this week. I kind of rushed through this chapter, so I apologize if it's not the same quality you're used to. Still, I hope you enjoy it!

-Ottie