Lance

 

Prince William was less skilled with swords than he was with lances, but he still selected a sword.

“Choose a lance. I want it to be a fair fight.”

“But I am taller, with longer reach-”

“So are those I will face on the battlefield. Take the lance.”

He set aside his misgivings. He’d beat her with the lance first, then practice his sword work with her.

 

“I did not mean to startle you,” Prince William said.

She glanced at the sun. “The fault is mine. I have exceeded my time.”

“Exceeded your time…but surely you could practice with me?”

A whisper of a frown furrowed her brow. Then she nodded once.

 

Everyone else had fled the training area except Prince William’s guards and a small boy dressed in too-big hand-me-downs.

His dark head was bent in concentration as he flew through a series of katas that should have been far too advanced for his age.

Prince William approached, and faster than a bolting horse, the boy spun around and knocked the lance from William’s hands.

William stared in awe, first at his empty hands, then at the child in front of him.

She was a girl.

 

Prince William sucked in a breath as he entered the training room and hefted his lance.

He was already strong, despite his youth. He would take after his father, the Great Unifier, in that.

His smile dimmed as he thought of how many had died during the wars. While their had been minor skirmishes and uprisings since, peace ruled most of Arendur.

Peace he had to be strong enough to maintain.

He tightened his grip on his lance.