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“Oh good, me too,” Dagmara said.

“Don’t worry,” the suave voice sounded behind them. Sabien approached the group, sauntering down the hill. “I can be on the princess’s team.”

“Against me?” Claude clarified.

Sabien shrugged, tugging his shirt out from his belt. “It’s just a game.” Pulling his shirt off his head, he threw the garment to the side, his tan skin already slick with sweat. “Right, Princess?”

Dagmara cleared her throat. By the guardians, he was attractive. “I don’t care whose team you’re on, Captain. There’s no doubt Claude will beat you regardless.”

Claude’s eyebrows raised. Finally, he smiled, and gave in. “I’ll take Sacha and Pierre, you take Martine.”

“No,” Dagmara replied. “Pierre and Martine should be on the same team. I’ll take Sacha.”

“That isn’t necessary,” Martine said under her breath.

“It’s just a game.” Dagmara smiled. “Sacha?”

The burly guard let out an affirmative grunt.

“Fine,” Claude let in. “Pierre and Martine with me.”

With one swift movement, Claude grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it off. Dropping it to the grass, he revealed his broad chest. He kept eye contact with Dagmara as he did it, as if telling her this was what she had asked for. “Yes, I’m playing.”

Butterflies erupted in Dagmara’s stomach, and she forced herself to keep eye contact with Claude as opposed to staring at his accentuated muscles. It was beyond difficult. She thought Sabien was attractive, but there was something captivating about Claude that made her feel drawn to him in a way no one else had made her feel.

Claude started onto the field, and Dagmara and Hugo were quick to catch up with him, the guards trailing behind. Dagmara didn’t miss the way Martine eyed Pierre as he stripped. She hoped the way that she had stared at the king hadn’t been as obvious.

“We can’t play against the king!” Hugo yelled.

All at once, the shouting and rough-housing died down. It was as if the entire field went silent. Everyone stilled and watched as Claude approached.

Everyone exclaimed his title before bowing.

Claude froze in his tracks.

A teenage boy with a bruise covering the right side of his face had the ball in his hands. He approached his king cautiously before throwing the ball. It was heavy, thudding to the ground and bouncing once before landing a few paces in front of Claude’s feet.

Claude remained still. Dagmara wondered how long it had been since he had interacted with his people this closely. He had become the imaginary figurehead his father didn’t want the king of Ilusauri to be. She assumed the late king of Ilusauri would want Claude to play Soulaye with his people, just as he had.

But everyone was scared of Claude now. There was no doubt that they watched him with fear.

Dagmara rushed forward, shoving Claude’s shoulder with as much force as she could muster. It was time to prove that Claude was simply one of them. He only stumbled slightly, but it made her point. Dagmara raced forward, stealing the ball and yelling, “Let’s go, Sailonne!”

The crowd erupted in cheers and cries as the game resumed, and Claude joined them, screaming, “For Lousevve!” An even louder cheer filled the air.

The game resumed, and Dagmara had the ball for mere seconds. The teenage boy clobbered her in the side, sending her crashing to the ground. The ball flew from her hands and was gone from her sight in a flash.

She knew her dress was already marked with grass stains and dirt from the hard fall. She pushed herself to a seated position, catching her bearings. Her shoulder was already killing her from the force of the blow.

Claude was standing before her. “You alright?” he asked, extending his hand down.

“You can’t help the other team!” she scolded.

“I have her,” Sabien said, cutting between them. Before Dagmara could object, he hoisted her underneath the arms, and she was on her feet in one swift motion.

The side of Claude’s mouth lifted into a smile, his eyes only on her. “Fine, you asked for it. You already shoved me once.”

She shrugged. “I’ll do it again. Better be careful.”