Nothing Gained, Nothing Lost

Nothing Gained, Nothing Lost

 

“SORRY. Let’s try it one more time, please!”

The powerful voice echoed pleasantly underneath the bright blue sky.

I laughed alongside Tiara as we sat back and watched Arthur spar. Clad all in white, he launched at his partner. Perhaps this time he’d finally land a hit. But in an instant, his momentum shot the other direction, and he struck the ground so hard that I could feel the reverberations beneath my feet. Tiara covered her mouth and shrieked, but Arthur’s opponent wore a serene smile.

“Wonderful as always, Sir Arthur,” Prime Minister Gilbert said. “I do admire your ability to absorb so many blows.”

Prime Minister Gilbert applauded, while Arthur, still sprawled out on the ground, let out a sigh.

“Thank you,” Arthur grumbled. He was on his back in the dirt for the tenth time this day.

Stale sat beside me with his arms folded and legs crossed. He pursed his lips at Prime Minister Gilbert. “Arthur, land a hit already. I want to see you knock Gilbert around.”

“I’m sorry, Prime Minister,” Arthur said. “One more time, please.”

“Of course. As many as you like.”

Stale’s heckling propelled Arthur back onto his feet. He brushed the dirt off his crisp uniform and prepared to face the prime minister once again.

This little arrangement had started about a year and a half ago, during the party at Prime Minister Gilbert’s house to celebrate his upcoming wedding. At the time, the prime minister said he wanted to thank Arthur for helping save Marianne, but all Arthur asked for in return was a chance to train together.

From then on, when they found time, they would go to unoccupied spaces to spar. Stale alone still seemed displeased with this development, perhaps because it meant the loss of his training partner. He’d had Arthur to himself for a while, and the two had become best friends, but now Prime Minister Gilbert, a man he still didn’t entirely trust, had stolen some of his time. Stale wasn’t great at hiding his irritation either. On top of that, Stale had to face the fact that he wasn’t enough of a challenge on his own to keep Arthur’s attention.

Stale only tended to come to these bouts when I was there too. Otherwise, he would just pout and rage on his own.

“Gilbert of all people…” Stale muttered, his voice laced with venom. A year and a half and he was still indignant about this whole setup.

I stroked his hair to try to calm him down. He pursed his lips and didn’t say another word. He shifted as though embarrassed to endure the gesture in front of the prime minister, but he didn’t reject me.

“Would you like to try too, Prince Stale? We could have ourselves a mock battle. It would be a nice chance to hit me,” Prime Minister Gilbert said.

“As nice as that sounds, I’ll pass. I’d die before I sparred with you,” Stale snapped.

He turned his whole head away from Prime Minister Gilbert with a “hmph!” The prime minister just shrugged at Stale’s immaturity and remarked mildly that Stale’s refusal was “unfortunate.” Yet Stale would never cave.

The prime minister returned his attention to Arthur, who stood ready to face him. They’d been practicing more than just swordplay, so when Arthur held up his bare hands, Prime Minister Gilbert was prepared. Arthur seemed to have picked up some martial arts moves from him too. At times, their hand-to-hand bouts became so intense that it seemed like a sword would only weigh Arthur down. But Arthur never gave in or let himself relax. Just when he would fall to the ground in defeat, he would leap back up to cry, “One more time, please!”

Yet this time, Prime Minister Gilbert hesitated before he and Arthur could begin their next bout. Based on his expression, beating on the boy who saved his beloved must’ve been painful for him. He stood there for a moment without a word; perhaps he was coming up with an alternative way to honor Arthur’s wish?

Just then, he clapped his hands together. “Why don’t we have a competition?”

Stale scowled, probably fretting about whatever scheme he thought was going on, but Tiara and I sat up straighter in our chairs.

“Let’s have a practice battle,” Prime Minister Gilbert went on. “If you can land a hit on me, though it’s a bit early, I’d be happy to teach you the move I showed you before.”

“For real?!” Arthur blurted, thrilled.

“Yes, of course.”

Arthur’s eyes lit up with excitement, and he pumped his fists. The “move” that Prime Minister Gilbert was referring to was a palm strike. I couldn’t help my surprise. This was a rare form of self-defense around here, rarely studied even by the royal family or the knights’ order. The prime minister was versed in all sorts of self-defense practices, though. His palm strike could knock someone unconscious without even leaving a mark. Even Stale had been impressed when he saw that one.

“Please teach me!” Arthur said the day Prime Minister Gilbert used it on him.

Prime Minister Gilbert hadn’t done so right away, but Arthur had never stopped asking. Now, however, it seemed Arthur would finally get his chance.

“He can fight however he wants in a practice battle, right?” Stale said.

I glanced over at him with dread, and Tiara’s jaw dropped. His voice had lowered when he said that, and now Stale sat forward so he could set his hands on the ground. His eyes bore into Prime Minister Gilbert, unwavering.

Prime Minister Gilbert raised an eyebrow, but his surprise shifted to an oddly pleased smile a moment later. I guessed he hadn’t expected Stale to jump in to help Arthur win, but Stale seemed as interested in that palm strike as Arthur. I shuddered to imagine what he was hoping for.

“Battle however you please, with the exclusion of weapons and special powers,” Prime Minister Gilbert said.

With that, Stale rose from his seat, slowly unbuttoning his jacket. “Fine,” he said, never taking his gaze off the prime minister. He tossed his jacket back over his chair and set his glasses atop it. Then he teleported to Arthur’s side. “We’re teaming up for this one, Arthur. We’ll knock Gilbert off his feet together.”

“Hang on, that’s cheating! Besides, we’ve only gotta land one hit to win,” Arthur replied.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m allowing it.”

Arthur’s eyes flickered between Stale and Prime Minister Gilbert. He wore an uneasy grimace, as though perturbed by the two-on-one odds. Practice matches were generally more like duels. But Prime Minister Gilbert simply smiled at the boys, utterly serene in the face of their teamwork. I doubted he intended to lose to them even if he was outnumbered.

“Good luck, you three!” I called as they braced themselves for the fight.

“J-just don’t get hurt, okay?” Tiara said.

After a beat of silence, Arthur and Stale inhaled, then took off running at Prime Minister Gilbert in perfect synchronization. But the prime minister predicted their strategy. Arthur was faster and reached him first, but Prime Minister Gilbert just took advantage of that momentum to send the boy flying. Stale kicked at his blind spot, but Prime Minister Gilbert blocked with his elbow and swiped Stale’s legs out from under him. I winced, bracing as Prime Minister Gilbert dodged the boys like a matador deftly evading a bull.

“Hey, Mistress. What kinda game do ya got goin’ on here?”

I turned in my chair to find Val sauntering toward us from the direction of the royal residence. He had his mail sack slung over his shoulder and Sefekh and Khemet trailing in his wake. The two kids immediately fixated on the brawl.

“Are you finished with your deliveries already?” I asked him. “You had stops in three different kingdoms this time.”

“Some trafficking bastards picked a fight with us on the second stop,” Val said. “I dragged ’em back here to the order, so I thought I’d drop off a letter while I was around.”

Val pulled an envelope out of his jacket and presented it to me.

“Again?” I sighed in disbelief.

Ever since Val began working as a deliveryman, he got attacked by criminals pretty frequently. Capturing and bringing them back to the Freesian knights, at my orders, had become a regular part of his job.

“Forget all that,” Val said. “What’re you up to here? Are the monsters finally battlin’ it out for your heart, Mistress?”

“Of course not,” I insisted. They were all just as spirited as usual.

“Pride! Don’t let your guard down around that man!” Stale called.

Prime Minister Gilbert casually said, “You’ve done great with your deliveries, Val.”

They didn’t even pause their battle as they spoke. Arthur snuck up behind Prime Minister Gilbert, but he never landed the blow. The prime minister leapt up, and Arthur crashed into Stale instead.

“Val, now that you’re here, may I play with Sefekh and Khemet before your next delivery?” Tiara asked, eyes sparkling. For the past three months, she’d been spending more and more time with the kids, inviting them and even Val to her room whenever they returned to the castle.

“Huh?” Val grunted. He seemed like he wanted to move on to his next delivery instead of hanging around the castle.

“I happen to be having strawberry cake with lunch today, which I know is Sefekh’s favorite.” Tiara clapped her hands together, voice cheery.

“For real?! Yay, cake!” Sefekh cried, her eyes lighting up.

Ever since she began spending time in Tiara’s room, Sefekh had grown comfortable speaking to her as an equal. Khemet was just as eager as his sister. Tiara didn’t wait a moment longer before leading Sefekh away by the hand.

“Val! Khemet! Hurry up!” Sefekh called.

Val grumbled a “gimme a break” but reached for Khemet’s hand. “Oh, uh…”

“Huh?” I blurted.

He’d made a mistake. The hand that Val reflexively reached for wasn’t Khemet’s. It was mine.

Val hadn’t looked before reaching, and with me and Khemet being near each other, he’d accidentally grabbed my hand instead of Khemet’s. When he realized his error, maybe because mine was slimmer, he whipped around. Now, his eyes flew wide. We met each other’s gaze and froze.

Khemet tugged at Val’s shirt, but Val was pale and still. He just kept looking at me, like he was seeing me for the first time. I wondered if he was trying to discern how I’d been able to overpower him on several occasions.

“I, um…”

Val jerked his hand away. The whole thing probably only lasted seconds, but it felt like years. Val didn’t apologize; he didn’t even sneer sarcastically like I expected. He snatched up Khemet’s hand and turned away, following Tiara and Sefekh without another word.

Weird. I watched him stomp away, shoulders tense, but I hadn’t done anything wrong. He was the one who grabbed my hand. He threw one glance back my way and scratched his head, then kept on walking with a grimace.

Tiara looked over her shoulder and called back to me in her singsong voice. “Big Sister, be sure to cheer on Big Brother and Arthur for me!”

I let out a little murmur of surprise. Was that it? She didn’t have any message more specific than that? They probably wanted some actual encouragement from Tiara. I couldn’t cheer them on alone. I climbed out of my chair, meaning to chase Tiara down and get a more thorough message of support from her, but Tiara stopped me after only a few steps.

“Please stay with them, Big Sister,” she said. “Let them hear how you feel. That way, Big Brother and Arthur will be filled with motivation. I’m sure of it!”

With one last wave, Tiara disappeared into the royal residence, bound for her bedroom. I feared the failure that loomed over me. I steeled myself to cheer on Stale and Arthur alone. They needed to earn that palm strike technique!

“Oh my. I sense a loss of concentration,” Prime Minister Gilbert said with a smile.

It was true. Instead of looking at the prime minister, Stale and Arthur were now looking at me, especially fixated on the hand Val had grabbed. They looked unbelievably distressed. Were they so easily distracted by a mistake? Prime Minister Gilbert seemed to think so—and he looked disappointed by the prospect. Maybe they’d lost focus the moment Val, Khemet, and Sefekh came onto the scene, and now he could fight them off with one hand, tops. In that case, it could take ages before they learned the technique!

“Stale! Arthur! You can do it!” I said, trying to snap them back to their senses.

I needed to cheer enough for me and Tiara both now, so I shouted with all my might. The boys flinched at the sudden volume.

“Tiara’s so proud to call you her brother, Stale, and so am I! You’re really clever and cool! You can do anything you put your mind to.”

If Stale had intended to resume the fight, he now came to a screeching halt. His face flushed, and his throat worked as he swallowed. Was all that praise too embarrassing for him? He was practically floundering, lost in some kind of thought loop. Perhaps this was way too much on top of the whole “little prince” thing, and he was worried it’d become a point of mockery later.

As he fumbled, Prime Minister Gilbert lunged, scoring a hit against him.

“Arthur, you’re such an amazing knight already!” I yelled. “You’re strong, and brave, and you’ve protected me in so many ways! There’s no one you can’t beat.”

This time, Arthur froze, fist extended toward his opponent. On a real battlefield, this would’ve spelled his death. A cherry-red blush spread up his neck and all the way to the tips of his ears at my words; had my commendation really rattled him so? But he looked kind of happy…

Prime Minister Gilbert easily batted Arthur’s hand aside and knocked him off his feet. He could finish them both off in a flash now. Heck, he could’ve probably read a book and learned a new technique while he was at it!

I had no idea what was going on, but it seemed like Stale and Arthur were almost too flustered to function. If this had been a real battle, they’d be in big trouble, but I tried to encourage them.

“The two of you can win! I believe in you!” I called.

Something shifted. Perhaps spurred on by my words at last, Stale and Arthur surged back onto their feet. Prime Minister Gilbert stiffened, his casual confidence gone as both boys focused intently on him.

Stale and Arthur fixed on the prime minister, both of their faces still flushed. The boys breathed a bit easier. In particular, Stale’s focus was leagues beyond what it had been before. When they moved, they had a singular intention, as though they were both charging toward the same goal, their minds and hearts synchronized. They were like two edges of a finely sharpened blade, ready to strike. I could almost smell bloodlust.

A bead of sweat rolled down the prime minister’s brow, and it looked like he’d acknowledged this as a real battle. As soon as Stale and Arthur broke out into a run, Prime Minister Gilbert had to go on the retreat. For once, it was the prime minister playing defense as Stale and Arthur unleashed a furious attack born of single-minded determination.

I thought I saw Prime Minister Gilbert glance at me and smirk, just a bit. It almost looked like he was saying, You win. Despite being on the sidelines, I found myself questioning whether I was involved in the battle somehow. I’d distracted the boys, then motivated them… Was that anything worth acknowledgment?

Before I could think on it further, Stale and Arthur bore down on him.

 

***

 

“Want me to teleport you?” Stale said.

“Yeah, sure,” I said. I could have run to my destination, but I was too drained, so I accepted the offer.

Sweat soaked through my shirt. I stood, brushing myself off. At least Stale looked just as bad. The normally neatly groomed prince was just as disheveled as me after our sparring. His hair stood up in messy spikes. Mud was smeared down one side of his face. His shirt was just as sweaty and gross as mine.

“You’re a mess,” I said.

“Look who’s talking,” Stale replied.

Stale wiped at his dirty cheek once, then twice. I knew I didn’t look much better. My white uniform was stained. Strands of silver hair came loose from my long ponytail to hang around my face and shoulders. I pulled the tie out and let the hair fall free so I could comb the knots and pebbles out, but that alone wouldn’t erase the evidence of that fight with Prime Minister Gilbert.

“Someday soon, I’m gonna beat him on my own,” I said to myself.

Stale frowned at me, but I just put my hair back up and continued.

“Once I can beat Prime Minister Gilbert with my bare hands, you’ll feel a bit better too, right? Just leave it to me.”

Stale raised an eyebrow. He was probably thinking of that time nearly two years ago, when I told him that saving the princess wasn’t his sole duty. “Why the hell do you think you have to protect her all by yourself?! That’s why you’ve got me!” That was what I told him at the time—a time when Stale felt like he couldn’t stand up to the prime minister to protect Princess Pride.

I’d been sparring with the prime minister for nearly a year and a half now, and Stale still obviously hated it. He’d gone around sulking whenever I did it. It was tough to admit how strong Prime Minister Gilbert was, but I hoped Stale could understand that my sparring with him benefited all of us. We couldn’t get stronger on our own.

“I’m glad we finally took him down two-on-one,” I said. “Now I’ll get to learn a new move from him, and… Hey, what’s up?”

I cocked my head to the side. Stale was staring at the ground, fingers pressed where his glasses would normally sit, and I couldn’t quite read his expression.

“It’s nothing,” he said, but his voice sounded strange and quiet, like he was ashamed of something.

Stale finally looked up, clenching his fists, and mumbled a few words. I couldn’t understand a word of it, and he had to repeat himself.

“I said… That move Gilbert taught you. Teach it to me too sometime. I wouldn’t mind learning it, as long as you’re my teacher.”

Stale unclenched his fists, crossed his arms, and pouted at the floor. My eyes went wide. We’d taught each other plenty of moves in our time as sparring partners, but Stale had always refused to learn anything directly from Prime Minister Gilbert. “I don’t ever want to use the same moves as that guy,” he’d say. But it seemed he was finally ready to put that aside in order to get stronger.

“All right!” I cheered, patting Stale on the back. I grinned at my sulky best friend. “So we’ll start tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’m ready to learn.”

I couldn’t wait. Heck, he might even pick up the move faster than me. Stale always was a fast learner.

“Stale! Arthur!”

We turned to find Princess Pride running over to us, grinning broadly.

“Pride!”

“Princess Pride!”

The maid attending her handed Prime Minister Gilbert a towel to mop up his sweat. He flashed us an amused smile, as if he already knew what was coming next. Pride stopped before us, a dampened handkerchief in her hands.

“Great work out there, you two,” she told us. “That ending was intense.”

Princess Pride reached out with her own handkerchief to wipe the sweat off my brow. I couldn’t move. Perhaps I should have stopped her—she was a princess mopping up the sweat of some random knight, after all—but I hardly dared to breathe when I stood so close to her. Her sunny smile and the cool cloth drowned out any thoughts I could’ve expressed in that moment.

“You were so cool out there, Arthur,” she added. “I’m so impressed that you managed to land a hit on Prime Minister Gilbert. It was so enchanting to watch.”

My heart beat against my chest, thumping in my ears. I tried to muster a “thank you,” but the words stuck in my throat. I stroked my long ponytail instead, trying to quiet the blood pounding in my ears. For half a second, I really worried I’d suffer a heart attack.

She moved on to Stale next. The prince squeezed his eyes shut as she started wiping the dirt from the very tip of his nose. She moved to around his eyes before she cleaned the rest of his face, even combing through his hair strand by strand with her fingers. “There, all done,” she said, yet she continued stroking Stale’s hair. He stood rigidly enduring all this, jaw clenched. Only when he managed a shy smile did she relent.

“I like that expression better, Stale. You’ve really grown up to be so handsome.” She smiled and tucked his hair behind his ear.

He flinched from the brush of her fingertips. His throat worked as he swallowed, hands frozen at his sides.

“I-It was all thanks to your support, Pride,” he managed. “Thank you very much.”

Hearing his voice snapped me out of my stupor as well. “Thank you so much,” I said. A little late, but it was better than nothing.

Princess Pride smiled, then reached out for both of us. She intertwined her fingers with ours. I knew Stale’s shoulders went just as stiff as mine in that moment.

“Please protect my subjects, and Tiara too,” she said softly. “I know the two of you can do that. Just look at how hard you’ve been working.”

She looked at our hands as she spoke, as though seeking out the strength in our fingers. We’d both grown over these past few years; I hoped when she looked at us now, she saw dependable people who could protect her.

The princess squeezed our hands. I wanted to reassure her, to promise her that of course we’d live up to that promise, but there was something missing from her words, some sadness I yearned to fix.

She was forgetting about herself.

“We’ll protect you too,” Stale and I said together.

Had she really not considered her own safety as well? Of course we’d protect Tiara and the citizens, even without her orders to do so, but we had a duty and a desire to protect her too.

Startled, Pride looked up at us. She blinked almost fearfully, like she’d said the wrong thing, her eyes reflecting our blue and black irises staring back at her. Her mouth opened and closed as if to take it all back, or to apologize.

We’d spoken in tandem without even planning it. The desire in our hearts was perfectly in sync; I knew Stale felt just as strongly as me. We both gently squeezed her fingers.

“I am your assistant and your future seneschal,” Stale said. “Please rely on me more. I’ll protect Tiara, the people of this kingdom, and you.”

“I will never falter,” I told her. “I’ll never betray the vow I made to you that day. Now that I’m your imperial knight, I will always be your true knight, both in name and deed.”

Pride just stared at us for a moment. Our faces were burning, but we held her gaze, resolute. Joy and relief replaced her shock as our words sank in.

The wind whispered past us, carrying a scent of changing leaves and creeping cold that announced the coming shift in the seasons. It blew the princess’s red hair toward us. My ponytail fluttered behind me. Princess Pride spoke a little louder, her words carried to us by the breeze.

“You two are so cool!”

She smiled wide, her happiness infectious as she clasped our hands and squeezed them in return. We grinned right back, her loyal attendants, prepared to make all her dreams and wishes come true.