The King & the Stable Boy

XII: Her Prince

Noah

"Again!" Roman demands, helping me off the barn's floor.

I panted, wiping the sweat off my forehead.

"A rest," I reply, wanting to recollect myself before getting slammed down again for the fiftieth time that day.

"No. You said you wanted me to train you, and that's exactly what we're doing."

"May I get water at least."

"You can get water when you manage to pin me to the ground and since that doesn't seem to be happening anytime soon, conserve your energy in your attacks. Defensive and simple is better than combative and tiring."

I nod, getting in starting position, allowing him to throw the first punch. I grab his wrist, sidestepping so that my back is to his chest, making a sharp jab to his abdomen with my elbow, in one fluid motion.

The attack causes him to lose air for a second, allowing me to kick his feet from under him, causing him to lie flat on his back on the barn's floor.

Before he could attempt a tricky counter attack, I plant one of my boots to his chest.

"I win." I move towards the well and pump out some water into the cup, sipping it, watching him help himself off.

"How can you be tired already?" he questions me.

"I work with stallions, not against men and beasts."

"You've managed to pin me down on your first day, I'd say your holding back."

"I'm just caught up in my thoughts is all. Now come on, let's go inside and clean up." I tell him in response, motioning him in the direction of the home.

"Come on, just a few more matches then we can go." Roman responds, voice firm, unquestionable.

"Fine."

Twenty minutes later Roman was once again pinned to the ground, this time with my straddling him, a dagger pressed to his throat, and him wearing a shit eating grin.

I help him off, dusting myself off and he claps my shoulder.

"That was great! You're making fast progress. Shame the stables took you before drafting age, you could have easily been my second in command. Tomorrow we'll be focusing on shifted combat." he says. "Oh, and fix your collar. Your mate mark is exposed."

I nod, moving the fabric, and we both head back inside through the back door in the kitchen where Samara was helping my mother prepare lunch and swatting away Ramos' hands from the food.

"How was it?" she asks.

"The boys a natural born fighter. He could be a coachman for the king and also fight off assassins if the time came, I'm sure of it."

"Please, don't give me that much credit. We haven't even tested my archery." I say, grabbing a grape from off of the food platter, causing Samara to give me a death glare.

"You boys, out. You're distracting my helper." Ma says, shooing us away, a knife poised in a threatening position.

"Yes ma'am." we all say, leaving before she gutted us all.

Roman and I went back to our rooms to wash up, and as I stepped out of the washroom I noticed a pigeon on the desk.

I look to my left and see that the window was open, ma must have done so as I left to practice. I could see why today the air felt hot and stuffy.

I put my finger out for the bird to perch on it and it did exactly that without hesitating. As usual, I grab my message from its leg, this time petting the animal and scratching it under the beak.