Page 28 of Fit for a Prince (Fit For A Crown #1)

“Then it would seem you’re already fitting right in,” he said as he plucked another sword off the rack.

His thin shirt clung to him, already growing damp from the increasing precipitation.

Wet clumps of hair stuck to his forehead, highlighting his intense eyes that could easily become a distraction.

“On my mark,” he said as he stepped back into the sparring ring. “Ready?”

“Ready.” I raised my sword.

“Begin.”

I moved first, getting a feel for the sword with a quick swing that I intended to miss.

Atlas dodged it with ease. He moved much more quickly without having the heavy wool shirt restricting his movements.

The wool did have some benefits though. With my arms warm, the blood raced through them and allowed my movements to be more precise.

I side-stepped his first swing, catching the smallest glimpse of another weapon lodged in his belt during my move.

A slingshot.

Without thinking twice, I swiped the slingshot from his belt, tucking it into my sleeve as I moved back to gain some distance.

“Interesting move,” Atlas remarked as he casually twirled his sword. “You know, you could have simply requested your weapon of choice.”

“Since when has anything ever been handed to me?” I dropped my sword on the ground and scooped up a few small rocks. “I know better than to ask for what I want.”

I flung the first stone, aiming for Atlas’s shoulder but instead watching the stone ting off his sword. He blocked it like it was nothing, slowly walking forward so he could continue fighting with his sword.

“Then how am I meant to know what to give you?” He blocked another one of my stones, my heart racing as he got closer. Should I pick up my sword? “Mercy? Or ruthlessness?”

I shot another stone, loosely aiming for his neck but still getting blocked. Since when was he this good? My hands started to shake, and I tried to convince myself that it was only from the cold. I hadn’t wanted to expose my real skills to him...but I didn’t plan on being humiliated today either.

“You’re not the merciful type,” I said, narrowing my eyes as I flicked another stone. I put some effort into this one, and while Atlas still blocked it, the ricochet hit him in the foot. He flinched but didn’t slow his daunting walk forward. “If you were, then you would have married me already.”

He stopped where I was barely out of reach from his sword. I primed another stone, the slingshot feeling like an extension of myself as I waited for the perfect release.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” His voice was low, his tone somber and as cold as the air. “Marrying you would be far from merciful. Tying you to this kingdom would be this cruelest thing any of us could do.”

“I was already tied to Damon once.” I exhaled, my warm breath dissipating in front of my clear shot. “I can handle cruel.”

I fired the shot, and his attempt to block it lined up perfectly with my expected trajectory.

It looked like I was aiming for his chest, when in truth I had anticipated him blocking his chest and exposing his right elbow.

The stone hit him straight in the tender nerve cluster that locked up his entire arm .

There was no doubt he felt the pain from the blow. His entire body tensed like he’d just jumped into a frigid pool, and he let out a sound that was somewhere between a growl and a swear word as bad as the one I’d written in my note. But impressively enough, he didn’t drop his sword.

“Nice shot,” he groaned as he rubbed the feeling back into his arm.

“Or just a lucky one.” I shrugged. “Hard to say.”

“Not from my perspective.” He tossed his sword to his other hand and ran forward. I side-stepped his swing, shocked to find that his movements were just as powerful with his non-dominant arm, or perhaps even more so.

Was he not right-handed at all?

“What’s this?” I ducked under another swing, finding myself dangerously close to his boots that could have easily kicked my teeth in. I scampered back, scooping up another couple of pebbles from the ground. “Were you going easy on me before?”

He swiped a few inches above my head, and the sound of slicing air was almost deafening. He pulled back, pausing to take in the look on my face with a dastardly smirk.

“I wasn’t the only one.”

He was right .

“I don’t know what you mean.” I fired another stone and it clinked harmlessly off his blade. “I would never fire a stone on your left .”

He immediately blocked his right side, and I shot his left just as I’d promised. The stone only grazed his shoulder, but he still muttered a curse.

“I tried to warn you.” I smiled, then fired two more as he came running toward me. I tried to slip around him, but he caught me by the shoulder with his hand—a move that typically wouldn’t be allowed in a sword match.

I tried to wiggle free, but it was like trying to struggle out of quicksand. All I managed to do was bury myself deeper into his grasp until he had my back pressed against his chest and a thick arm locked around my throat in a chokehold.

“And now I’m warning you ,” he whispered in my ear, his heart hammering into my back as he panted behind me. “Accept my mercy and give up on me while you still can. You don’t want to have anything to do with me, my family, or my kingdom.”

I tightened my grip on the slingshot, wondering if I could hit him in the gut with it hard enough to get him to let me go.

His sword was also hanging loose in his left hand, and his right arm was barely even holding me into place.

There was no tension around my throat, making his hold more warm than steely .

“Accepting your mercy means accepting death.” My voice was breathy and my throat was hot.

I felt like I was suffocating even while my airway was completely clear.

I was completely wrapped up in his arms, but not in the cozy way that you’d want to be with a prince.

He was the anaconda, and I was the prey that he couldn’t quite swallow.

“Trust me, death is better.” His grip loosened, and he settled his arm on my shoulder, still ready to strangle me at any moment.

“Then why not just kill me?” I asked, my head lowered to catch our reflection in his frosty sword. “If you think I’m better off dead, then why let me tag along at all?”

He released me, his arms practically melting off of me as he slipped away and stepped back. “Because I’m a prince, not a gentleman. I know when I’ve got something valuable within reach. I’m far too greedy to kill you myself.”

Valuable?

My breath caught, but I didn’t turn around. All I’d wanted to do since meeting the princes was prove my worth; how long had Atlas already been aware of it?

“And you’d let something of value simply die?” I tugged on my borrowed sleeve, Atlas’s scent still surrounding me even as he stood behind me .

“I suppose that’s the part where I’m attempting to be a gentleman,” he said, his voice growing more distant by the second. “Let this be your final warning, Diaspro. Don’t marry. Abandon your hopes of survival, or pay the price of living.”

“Does that price include you?” I looked over my shoulder, finding that he had already turned away, his face toward the icy ground and the sword he’d dragged across it.

“Even if it did,” he said, “death would still be better.”