Ch. 22: Great Spoils Indeed

In a matter of hours, the entire city had shown up for the 'fight of the century'. Prince Derrick made sure that the heralds rounded up as many people as possible to witness his supreme fighting techniques against his potential bride. Apparently everyone wanted to get a glimpse of the woman defending her rights to refuse marriage to a royal.

"Ez I swear - you always tend to get yourself into trouble. If you would just shut your big mouth, you wouldn't be in this situation." Richie was pissed as usual while he prepared me for the big fight.

"If I would have shut my mouth I would be betrothed right now." I defended myself.

"Yeah yeah, so what? How would that have been such a bad thing? You're a woman, he's an extremely attractive guy - so what if he's a pig and would not listen to a word you say? You gotta take the bad with the good."

I shook my head at his rude logic. I knew he didn't actually think I should marry him; he was just angry that I was now having to fight for my life again.

"I will be alright Rich. Don't worry about me."

Richie turned his head away from me, not allowing me to see his face, "Who said I was worried about you huh? You're the one who got yourself into this mess - now let's stop talking and finish getting you ready." He turned back to me with a forced smile. I hated making him upset, but what else could I do? I had to take a stand and fight this man.

We finished preparing my body with hidden weapons. Prince Derrick said I could use anything at my disposal; apparently he wasn't too concerned about me winning. I had heard some things while in the barracks about the Prince being an amazing fighter, although at that time everyone was referring to him as the King. If this was actually the case, I had a pretty intense fight awaiting me. Even though I thought the Prince was an idiot, I didn't want to underestimate him. I had to be prepared for anything that he were to throw at me, therefore I strapped myself down with the same weapons as yesterday's competition. If the Prince was allowing me to use anything, then I would use any method necessary to make sure this Prince would not win.

"Well you definitely don't look as good as you did in the dress, but I think the corset is a nice touch." Richie stood back to admire his work, one hand on his hip. I was dressed in an off the shoulder white tunic with a lace-up brown leather corset belt. My legs were shown off in tight fitting trousers with boots that came up to below the knee. Richie suggested that I appear somewhat alluring since that could throw the Prince off during battle. If he were more focused on my body, he wouldn't be as focused on the death-blow.

"Now, go out there and show this man you can beat his butt." Richie hugged me and gave me a kiss on the cheek before the doors to the room opened. Very quickly Richie backed up, appearing as an obedient servant once more. Surprisingly Prince Devin came to escort me to the arena.

After appearing shocked with my attire, Devin made a slight cough and said, "You ready to go?"

"Absolutely."

We walked out of the room, down one of the palace hallways in silence. Thinking that he might be a little uncomfortable with our first encounter, I finally broke the ice, "I apologize for having kissed you that day in the apothecary shop."

Prince Devin's face turned beet red but still not saying anything. Biting my lip, I explained, "It was the only way I could think of to keep you silent at that moment."

He remained silent until right before we got to the arena entrance when suddenly he looked down while saying, "Umm - cough - I'm just relieved that you're actually a woman." He then glanced at me, worry in his eyes, "Just try not to get yourself killed today alright? I know he's not going to intentionally try to kill you, but he is very skilled . . . just don't do anything that might enrage him." With that he rushed over to the podium, leaving me alone with a few guards to bring me the rest of the way.

The guards ushered me into the open arena. Blinding light caused me to raise my hand, shielding my eyes. There was a much larger group of people in the stone-tier seating this time. In the middle of the square-yard stood the tall elegant Prince. He was clad in golden armor with a beautiful gem encrusted sword in his right hand and few other small weapons on his waist belt. His handsome face was glowing with unrestrained happiness and pride - as if he knew that he would be victorious. I walked forward until I was standing right in front of him as he raised a hand to silence the crowd.

"Attention citizens! Today you will witness the glory of our empire through a wondrous competition between my future bride and I! Crown Prince Baymun will determine the victor since he has recently returned from war. To the victor will be great spoils!!" Prince Derrick then looked at me and quietly said, "Great spoils indeed, don't you agree wife?"

I smirked, but did not give an answer. Instead, my attention was brought to the podium - indeed the demon prince was quietly sitting on the throne seat with a tall darkly-clad man standing by his right side. Now that I thought about it, I had noticed that same guy in the banquet hall - never leaving the prince's side. `I bet that's his advisor or something.' Along with the demon prince, I noticed Prince Devin and little Iren sitting in the podium. Prince Iren was all eyes, with a huge smile plastered on his face. He was fidgeting in his chair, anxious for the fight to get started.

Prince Baymun waved his hand, indicating the competition could begin. Immediately Prince Derrick raised his sword, waiting for me to match his weapon choice. Instead of drawing out my own broadsword, I took a few steps back while pulling a dagger from my leg strap. The Prince chuckled to himself, then made a wide swipe with his weapon. Dodging, I moved around to allow him to attack again. Each time he would attack, I would dodge. I didn't raise my weapon once while taking my time to observe his technique. He seemed to prefer his right side over the left and his lack of helmet allowed his hair to keep falling into his eyes. The choice of armor was a bad fit too; after a few unsuccessful blows he appeared to be sweating from the scorching heat. 'He should have worn something lighter.'

After a couple more feeble attempts, the Prince said, "Are you just toying with me wench? If you don't wish to fight, we can begin wedding preparations immediately."

I smirked, but kept my cool. Now that I had noticed a few things about his fighting stance, I could make a move. Switching to the offensive, with my free hand I grabbed a throwing knife and flung it at an opening under his right arm. It met with flesh, causing the Prince to wince in pain. He brought up his left hand to pull out the knife as I quickly came forward to slash at an opening just above his right knee. It was a tight fit and I didn't slice very deep, but it still managed to piss him off. He pulled the knife out and threw it at me. I moved out of the way while pulling out another dagger to fight him two handed. He raised his long-sword, but had to place most of his weight on the left side causing him to go off-balanced. I slashed diagonally at his long-sword with enough force to knock it from his hand.

Now re-balanced, the Prince pulled out two daggers and began fighting me in close-combat. With every attack he made, I countered. For several minutes we were caught up in a frenzied struggle of slashing and parrying. After a little while, I began to see the effects of my two minor attacks. He was getting tired - but I didn't want to underestimate him. His tiredness seemed to be realized, for anger began to appear on his face. With every ounce of energy he lost, it was like he replaced it with growing rage and strength. Slowly, I noticed that he was a lot stronger than I was - I was a woman after all. His strength far exceeded my own, and since we were in close-combat it put me at a severe disadvantage. I attempted to draw back to get some distance between us, but every time I did he would pull closer.

Since I couldn't get away from him, I decided to switch tactics. "You seem to really want to win this competition Prince Derrick."

Still focused, he responded, "Seems you are beginning to realize I am the superior warrior wife."

I made a small laugh, "Perhaps." Then I dodged another attack while sidling up to his ear. In a breathy voice I whispered, "It does put a woman in the mood when her man is able to prove his virility in battle."