Chapter 3: A Friend, A Love

Chapter 3: 

“How was the dinner?”, Max asks as soon as I walk down to the east wing of the castle.

“You know.”, I say sighing, “Dinners with mom are always dramatic. She always has these grooms ready to marry me. Where does she bring them from?”. I say rolling my eyes.

“Brings them from thin air - like a witch”, he says motioning his hands in circles like performing witchcraft. I glance at him raising my eyebrows, he straightens his back folding his hands near his crotch.

“Sorry”, he says and I burst into fits of laughter.

Max is my real home. He is by my side since I was ten. All I know is he was one of the lankiest, shabby kids that strolled near the palace gates, and we found him bruised with men lurking over his body. I smile at the vivid memory of those eyes looking at me with pain.

“Adria focus on the areas of impact when you rise the sword. If you strengthen them, you can lift the sword.”, Evander says looking at me with a stern look.

“But Evander, it’s heavy. I cant pick it up. Can’t I have a lighter sword”, I say delivering a heart-shattering pout that always melts Evander.

“Not gonna work Adria. You cant get your way if you pout on the battleground. If you want to fight you fight strong.”, Evander says folding his hands over his chest, turning a blind eye to my pleas.

I sigh, bowing my head down, and dig a hole in the ground with the sole of my feet.

“I am a girl. No one will take me to a battleground”.

“And who said battlegrounds are meant for war.”, I look at him my eyes wide, bearing with questions.

“Princess Adria. A woman might not fight on the battleground of wars, but she has a fair share of wars going on in her life as well.”, I still don't get what he wants to say to me, so I furrow my eyebrows placing my hands on the waist.

He laughs ruffling my hair, “You will know when you grow up. You do have a very big fight.”

The gate to the south of the training ground clinks as someone smashes onto the iron bars. My eyes trail to look at Evander, as I launch on my feet to see what the commotion is all about.

It’s late afternoon, which leaves the entire training ground to me and Evander.

A lanky figure lies on the ground clutching his stomach. His clothes torn in million places, skin covered with dirt. His disheveled, unkept hairs invaded his eyes, and blood drips from his lips, as they quiver in pain. Small whimpers vibrate through his throat and my heart pains at the boy.

Evander pulls his body into a fetal position in his hands, rushing him to the stable. He lays him down on the haystack and the boy hisses. Evander immediately turns him on his stomach and I place my hands on his back, studying the structure of the bones.

“It’s broken.”, Evander  looks at me as my hands run over the stinky cloth of the boy,

“Broken bone. We need the healer.” Evander nods running in the direction of the palace.

I look on my sides, hoping to find water. A bucket filled with water holds my view,  I run towards it and crumple the ends of my dress in my fist to dip it in the bucket.

The fabric of my gown soaks wet, I clutch my hands tight removing the excess water, as I run back to where the boy lies.

I dab areas of his bruised skin covered in dirt, running the end of the cloth on his bloody lips. The boy hisses at every touch, and my heart pinches at his voice. I run my fingers through his hair tucking them over his head. His eyes open, looking into mine. They showcase pain. I smile at the boy, only to see him break down in tears.

Footfalls fill the ground as Evander returns with the healer tailing him behind. The healer runs his fingers over the back of his waist, running them all the way up to his shoulders.

“What do you think happened Princess Adria?”, the healer asks me.

“Broken bone”, the words come out more of a question rather than conviction.

“Where?”, he adds to his question.

“The upper right corner of his shoulder”, I say. The healer snorts at my answer, “Well, isn't that very obvious, what else?”, he says spitting every word from his mouth like venom.

“I… I don't know”, I say bowing my head. He shakes his head, smirking at me in disappointment.

“You should rather take weaving lessons Princess”, he says tending the wounds of the boy.

My head dips down in shame, and I watch the boy. He smiles at me through the tears, and my heart flutters at his strength.

Three weeks and the boy healed. I grew fond of him, why not he was the only person my age by my side. He said his name was Max, and he begged in the village since his parents died. I felt bad for him, so I requested Evander to keep him. Reluctant, yet agreeing he arranged all the details that could help keep Max along my side.

A small smile plays along the edges of my lips and Max walks beside me to the northeast wing of the palace. He has been by my side ever since. We trained together, in fact, he was my first real fight. We played together, learned together. He grew up along with me, to only turn into my personal guard after Evander died. The king never was home to even see him by my side, and the queen never cared what I did until I started to bleed between my legs.

The door to my personal chamber at the northeast wing opened with a loud screech. The northeastern wing is for all the help in the palace, but I have my chamber made here for all the rendezvous that need to be away from the gossip birds of my mom.

The red and black shadow of the room falls over my foot. The dark color scheme ignites a sexual vibe throughout the place. The stone of the room curve in smooth curves as soft light dances in the space, and the warmth of the rug sink into my feet.

Two men kneel near the fireplace, blindfolded. I smirk, taking in the muscular yet lean figures of their body. The man on the right has broad shoulders, as dainty veins run down his ever so muscular arms. His chiseled jaw clenched, as he gulps down the heat inside the room. I run a finger over his broad shoulders, pulling it across the hair on his nape. He shudders, under my touch. The silk strip on his eyes, flutters and I untie his blindfold.

He blinks his eyes, adjusting to the lights. He raises his head to look at me, immediately bowing. I smirk at the fear in those eyes.

The man on the left takes a deep breath, taking my attention. He is skinnier than the man on the right but muscled up in all the right places. The tout muscles on his chest, pull me in enough to dip my hands on the lines running through them. Tracing the lines on his stomach, I feel the needles that rise on his skin. He hisses at the touch, clenching his stomach giving it a much better shape. His jaw isn't chiseled, but his face has this sharp edge that no girl can ignore.

I slide my hands around his nape removing the blindfold.

“Good job Max.”, I say turning around to see Max standing leaning against the pole of the bed. He checks his nails rolling his eyes.

“Choose, I need to get him out before I sleep”, he says all bored.

I look at both men kneeling before me, their heads bowed down. My eyes linger on both, my mind not wanting to choose - who cares.

“Both”, I crook. Max raises an eyebrow questioning me. “I can't choose, so both.”.

Max opens his mouth to say something, I raise my hand to silence him waving him out of the room.

“See you in the morning Max”, I say. A lowly growl escapes his throat, as he walks out of the door banging it shut.