The Great Paintball Hunt

Hindsight really was a terrible thing. And if regret could solve any of his problems, Perry would've given in to it a long time ago. 

"In accordance to the prince's wishes, this last celebration shall be renamed," the Master of Ceremonies announced for all of the many - truly, many - people gathered in front of them in the arena. "It shall now be called, The Great Paintball Hunt."

Sparks flew from her hands and showered them all as the people there all glanced at each other in clear confusion. Perry couldn't blame them. Especially since he had never given the order to rename the hunt the great anything. 

He shot the Head Servant a sideways look, but the older man simply bowed and smiled at Perry, clearly pleased with himself. 

"Curious," the King remarked. "How did you come up with the name?"

"Um…" Perry scratched the back of his neck, his whole body feeling itchy thanks to the heavy 'soft' armor he had been forced to wear. "Because… the, uh, cotton balls have paint on them." He closed one hand into a fist and hit his other open palm. "So, you know, paintball."

Perry shrugged. If there really was a hell, he was so going to end up there after all of this was said and done. Not just for stealing someone else's idea, but also for impersonating a prince. As well as all the other questionable things he'd done since arriving in this place. 

"Ah, how clever, my son." The King patted his shoulder affectionately and Perry felt his insides shrivel up and die a bit.

Yep, definitely going to hell. 

"At the sound of the gong, players will mount their rides and head off to the The King's Wood. As an addition to this Great Paintball Hunt, the First Prince will participate as The Great Foggy Mountain Beast. Any player who stains him with their color shall be awarded two hundred and fifty points," the Master of Ceremonies shouted. 

Perry wished, not for the first time, he could find a hole to hide in. 

As the Master of Ceremonies continued to outline the rules the Head Servant had already explained to Perry, he glanced down at his so-called soft armor. Since they wouldn't actually be hunting anything with real weapons, his armor consisted of a thick vest embroidered with delicate silver thread depicting something that might resemble a tiger, but that had a long reptilian tail and a crest on its back. 

"Is this The Great Foggy Mountain Beast?" Perry had asked the Head Servant when the man handed him the vest. 

"Yes, Your Highness. And it is an honor to wear it."

Perry had to take his word for it since his brain was having some difficulty believing a creature like this even existed in the first place. 

Hoofbeats and horses nickering brought his attention back to the present and Perry watched as Palace servants led horses to the waiting party gathered in the arena. 

"Am I… expected to ride a horse?" Perry asked no one in particular, mentally kicking himself because this was definitely something he should have considered sooner. 

"It is not a requirement, Your Highness," the Head Servant informed him. "But it does give you an advantage. See, some of the nobles have forgone theirs."

It was true. As Perry watched, some of the people wearing gold and silver soft armor waved the horses away as they checked their weapons. 

Perry let out a relieved breath and turned to Mal who had been hovering silently behind him through all of the unnecessary ceremony. "Are you riding a horse?"

He remembered that during the competition, the animals seemed to not be so fond of him. 

"No," Mal answered. Unlike the rest of them, he wasn't wearing soft armor. Perry didn't know if it was because he didn't have one or because he didn't want to wear one. 

Without his permission, his eyes traced the line of his collar and came to rest on that small tear near his heart. It bothered him even more now, as they were about to head out and Perry, as the most valuable target, was about to be hunted by all of the fifty or sixty people standing there. 

He shuddered and forced his gaze away. All he had to do was hide. Hiding was a good plan, right? The Head Servant said the hunt would end at sunset, since stumbling around in the woods after dark wasn't safe. Well, he hadn't said it exactly like that, but it was the only way to describe what Perry would be doing. 

A gong sounded. Once, twice, three times. Perry jumped and blinked at the sudden sound. A collective shout of joy erupted from the nobles mounted on horses as they rushed out of the big stone gate, the hoofbeats of their horses making the wooden platform Perry and the Royal Family stood on shake. 

Jumping into the cloud of dust left in their wake, the nobles who'd chosen to go on feet and the servants followed. 

Perry felt his stomach revolt against him. Realistically speaking, how embarrassing would it be for Perry to throw up in front of the King and Queen? All the nobles were gone, so it wouldn't be that bad, right?

The King grinned at Perry. "I shall see you for super, son."

He clapped Perry on the shoulder again and Perry gave him a thin smile. He waited until the King had turned his back and was disappearing back into the Palace before turning to Mal. 

"I guess we should-"

"I would have a word with you, my son." The Queen's voice interrupted him. 

Perry couldn't think of anything he wanted to do less than talk to the Queen. Well, maybe participate in this damn hunt. But even though most of the nobles and Palace servants were gone, there were still eyes on them. And Perry had a charade to keep up. 

"Certainly," he answered. He couldn't bring himself to call her mother. Or Queen, for that matter. Maybe he would have no choice in the future, but not right then.

"The woods can be a dangerous place, even the area that has been cleared for the hunt." She swallowed and reached out both hands, taking Perry's left hand between hers. The gesture was so shocking that he didn't react. "You must be careful. There are those who will use this as an opportunity to consolidate power." She turned brown eyes up at him and her expression was so soft, so sincere, Perry almost believed her. Almost. "Please, take care of yourself. Hide if you must."

She didn't need to tell him twice. His plan was to find a cozy cave or maybe a tree big enough to support his weight and wait all of this out. He didn't care one bit if he lost, so long as he lived to see another sunrise. 

Her eyes still staring up at him reminded him that he needed to give her some form or answer. "Oh, of course. Don't worry about me. I have backup."

He pointed one thumb over his shoulder at Mal and the Queen turned her attention to him. Perry took the advantage to slide his hand from in between hers, fighting the very real urge to wipe his palm on his clothes. 

"We are not familiar with each other," the Queen began.

"Nor will we be," Mal said in a voice loud enough for only the three of them to hear. The Queen's eyes widened and she looked as if she was about to admonish him when Mal spoke again. "I am your son's bodyguard, your majesty."

The Queen looked down and clenched one hand into a fist. "Of course. And as such, I expect you to show the talent you so brazenly displayed for all to see in the competition and keep him safe. You may be his bodyguard, but that is an order from your Queen."

Mal took a long time to answer. Perry adjusted the straps of his soft armor, the ones on his left side and the ones over his shoulders. Should he intervene? Say something? Dance the macarena to distract the Queen and break the tension?

"I will protect him," Mal finally said. "Because he was the one who called me here. Not because you have ordered me."

Okay, Perry couldn't take much more of this. He clapped his hands once and pointed to the big open gate. "Well, since all of that is settled, let's head out, shall we?"

He gave them both a big smile and climbed down the few steps leading down the wooden platform.

Before they could leave, the Head Servant hurried over to them and bowed his head. He glanced around before pulling a folded piece of paper and discreetly handed it over to Perry. Without saying anything, he bowed again and left. 

Perry tucked the piece of paper into his sleeve and kept his smile firmly in place. He might be a sorry excuse for a prince, but years of intercepting notes in class had taught him never to unfold paper containing potentially sensitive information out in the open.

His booted feet sank into the sand of the arena as he left the platform behind. Perry mentally cursed all the heavy clothes and equipment he had to carry for this silly hunt thing. 

"Shit," he hissed as he patted his back and realized his bow and quiver were nowhere to be found. 

"I have them," Mal's smooth voice informed him. 

Perry startled and scowled at Mal. "I'm beginning to think I should borrow Galana's bell and hang it around your ankle or something. You being this quiet is not good for my health. Or natural."

Mal hummed as if considering the thought. "Having a bell as an ornament would be amusing. I do not believe I have ever had one. But it would defeat the purpose of silently eliminating the threats against your person."

Perry huffed out a breath, already tired of walking and they had barely made it to the gate. "You talk about eliminating people and threats a lot."

"Life is death," Mal observed blandly.

"Not where I come from," Perry mumbled to himself. 

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Mal catch up to him and walk beside him instead of behind. "What is it like where you are from?"

Perry stared at him. "Uh… you know, like this." He gestured with both hands to the empty arena around them. 

Mal seemed almost disappointed by his answer but didn't say anything. Perry searched for a new topic of conversation as they neared the arched gate. 

"What color are my balls again?" His neck and cheeks immediately burned bright red as he ran the questions over in his head. "I mean the, uh, arrows. My balls on the arrows. No, wait, I mean the arrows, what color are the arrows?"

Mal's lips twitched but he kept a straight face. "The arrows are a regular reddish brown, Your Highness. I believe they are made from birch wood."

"Yeah, sure, the arrows are brown because they are made out of wood, I get that." Perry waved his hands in a circular motion as he tried to explain himself. 

"Not all arrows are brown. Some are made from ash and are almost white. Others are made from gray dogwood and are, of course, gray. And there are arrows said to be made from the Tree of Life itself and are rumored to be pure gold. But I admit I have never seen of those and do not know if they are myth or simply lost to time." Mal counted the different types of arrows on his fingers as he spoke and Perry found his embarrassment shift to annoyance. 

His bodyguard was very good at getting his emotions to pivot like that. Perry narrowed his eyes at him. "You know what I mean. What color is the cotton thing at the end of the arrow I need to shoot at people to win this thing?"

It was important to know because it wasn't like the thought of shooting at people made Perry break out into hives or anything. No, not at all. 

In fact, since his plan was to hide, he was just asking to steer the conversation away from his growing certainty that his bodyguard probably knew he wasn't the real prince. 

"Blue," Mal said and Perry couldn't help but notice he sounded a little disappointed. 

"You don't like blue? They are the kingdom's colors." Perry gestured to the banners flapping high over the arena and hanging from the stone walls all around them. 

The banners were a deep blue with silver details. A silver lake was painted at the bottom with a pale blue moon rising over its horizon. Perry had yet to see the lake depicted there and to him, the moon looked like a regular gray. But it did look pretty.

"I would prefer a different color," Mal said. 

"Like what?" Perry's curiosity was peaked - and not just because his bodyguard wasn't purposely annoying him by answering in circles. 

Mal turned to look at Perry. "Dark red."

"Why?" Perry asked, dreading the answer. He expected something along the lines of 'because it is the color my enemies weep when I dispatch them', or 'because it is the color of blood under the moonlight'. Something along those lines.

Instead, what Mal actually answered almost made him stumble. 

Mal's green eyes studied him for a moment before he finally said, "Because it looks good on you."