31. James

31

JAMES

T he clash of steel on steel echoed through the courtyard as I pressed my attack against Ravana. The bot endured admirably, as always, before pivoting to strike back with a low diagonal blow that I nearly failed to block. It was almost enough to feel dangerous... except I knew it wasn't. Ravana's control servos were precise enough to stop within mere millimeters of my flesh. He would never cut me, never go too far. He was the perfect opponent, capable of providing a true challenge without the risk of injury.

I had never despised those fail-safes as much as I did right now. Even if I threw myself at his sword, he would find a way to keep me from sustaining the slightest cut. It made the duel feel pointless. I was about to call a halt when Ravana slipped. It shouldn't have been possible, not here, in a place where we'd been sparring for as long as I could lift a sword. But slip he did, his blade wavering as he cast his arms out to regain his balance. I saw my opening, sliding my blade between his defenses, and for the first time ever struck him square in the chest.

Ravana dropped his sword as he fell back onto the ground. He crossed his legs, bowed his head, and said, "I am defeated." Even he sounded bewildered by the turn of events.

The sound of applause a second later drew me out of my stunned silence. "Nice job," Princess Aramar called out from the courtyard's edge.

I groaned in frustration.

She had come like clockwork every day at three, each time with a new gambit designed to capture my attention—trinkets from the Promenade, pieces of her strange technology for me to inspect, suggestions to join her for a flight in her hovercraft. All were things I would have jumped at once upon a time, but now I knew better. Nothing came for free, especially not the attention of a princess who needed to ingratiate herself with my parents.

I resisted the urge to shout at her to get out, and summoned as much civility as I could muster at the moment. "As I've made abundantly clear over the past week, these are my private quarters, and I don't want you here. Please leave."

"I know you don't want me here," she said, her voice surprisingly gentle.

"Then why are you forcing your company on me?"

The princess didn't answer immediately, instead walking over to stand beside me. It was a little startling to realize how petite she was up close. Her personality seemed as vast as the sun, but in stature, she was quite small.

She reminded me of Adi?—

No, don't think about her. For God's sake, don't compare them. There is no comparison . Adina was a thief, brilliant but too trusting. Princess Aramar was a rani of great means, immense mystery, and my parents' approval, which meant I wanted nothing to do with her.

The princess looked at my bot, a small smile framing the mischief in her eyes. "I set that up, you know."

And now she was talking in tongues. "Set what up?"

"The fall your bot took." She nodded toward the ground. "I set that up."

Bullshit. "Sorry, I don't think you've got psychic powers." Or maybe it was worse than that. "Have you hacked my bodyguard?" I raised the sword and pointed it at her face.

She swallowed, clearly unnerved, and for a moment, I felt like a complete bastard. But she'd already shown me she could override him with a verbal command. If she could control his code from a distance...

"No. I might be able to if I tried. But that's not what happened here." She pointed at the marble. "I just made sure there was a trip hazard in his path. Try not to step in it; that silicone is slippery."

I looked away from her and focused on the marble. I did eventually make out a slick sheen there. Well, damn. This was hardly better. "When did you do that?"

"During your fight, of course." She shrugged. "I had to make sure you didn't slip there. I don't want you to be hurt."

"All you've proven with this is that you can sneak around this palace laying traps for people." I narrowed my eyes at her and left my sword where it was. "And I want to know why. Why are you even bothering when any idiot could see that I don't want to have anything to do with you?"

An expression flickered across her face, too quick for me to decipher. She held herself stiffly—she always seemed a little stiff—probably because of the ridiculously elaborate necklace she was wearing. "I suppose that I'm not just any idiot."

"No jokes," I growled. "And no clever little retorts, either. Don't try to play me." I shook my head. "I'm so damn tired of everyone trying to manipulate me. I'm sick to death of it."

Everyone in the world seemed to think they knew what was best for me better than I did. The only person who had ever given me the chance to truly be myself, explore on my terms and support me was Adina, and she was dead. I knew I'd never find someone else like her again.

Certainly, the woman in front of me couldn't come close to?—

"I know what it's like," she said, looking away from me at last. "To be so sick of your own life that you'd rather do almost anything than live it. To tempt fate stupidly because you just want to feel something different. To take a chance and have it result in the worst thing possible." She sighed. "You think I can't see how miserable you are? Everyone can see it, but no one is doing anything about it. You're watched every second of the day; nothing is private, and nothing is sacred. Of course, you're having difficult thoughts. Who wouldn't in your position?"

I was stunned. I lowered my sword. It was that or drop the damn thing; it was so hard to hold on to right now. "How can you..."

"It's so hard," she continued. "And no one really understands because you're supposed to be so happy, right? You're a prince; you're wealthy and healthy and handsome; everyone throws themselves at you trying to get on your good side. You ought to be pleased with your life, and so they either ignore that you're upset or talk badly about you for it. For not being grateful. For not being happy to be propped up like some kind of doll."

I had never expected this kind of candor from... well, from anyone. She was right, though. She was putting words to feelings I had barely been bold enough to name myself.

"You speak like you understand," I said shakily. "But you don't. Look at you—you were brave enough to leave your home for an entirely new city, to shake off the past and make a name for yourself somewhere new. And I'm just..."

"You're not 'just' anything," Princess Aramar insisted. "And being here really isn't brave of me. I came here with everything I needed to make a very comfortable life for myself, not as a poor refugee. Running is sometimes the easiest thing in the world. It's staying that's harder." She stepped closer to me, looking up with earnest, amber-colored eyes.

Her eyes were a different shape from Adina's but the same color. My throat tightened as I looked at her. "Please, if you would allow me to?—"

" Hellooooo ?"

Lavanya's voice at the edge of my courtyard was a shock of ice to my system, breaking the connection Princess Aramar and I had been forging. I moved back from her and turned my attention to my ex-fiancée. "What are you doing here?" I demanded.

"Oh, Your Highness, you are so cruel to me." She twittered out a laugh as she joined us, moving as sinuously as a snake. "But I forgive you. These are challenging times, aren't they?" Once she was close, she curtsied low to me, then inclined her head ever- so-slightly to Princess Aramar. "I promise not to discomfit you for long. I'm only here because the princess has been summoned for an audience."

An audience? What could my father possibly have to say to her? A protective urge rose in me, surprising me with its strength. "Fine," I said, automatically fighting against any desire I might have to connect with Princess Aramar.

I didn't deserve to find someone new, and I had no intentions of going along with my parents' plots and schemes for me. "Take her."

Princess Aramar looked a little disconcerted, but she rallied quickly. "Right. See you tomorrow then, James."

No, you won't . I almost said it aloud, but then I saw that Lavanya was visibly grinding her teeth and remembered that she was the first machination my parents had forced on me, the initial choice that had driven me to explore a whole new world. I was irritated by Aramar, but I loathed Lavanya.

In a fight between the two, it was easy to pick someone to support. "Absolutely," I said and had the pleasure of seeing my ex-fiancée turn the color of an eggplant. "Tomorrow."

Princess Aramar curtsied, then gestured to Lavanya. "Lead the way." As she left, she cast one last glance over her shoulder at me, a half-smile on her face.

I was surprised to find myself smiling back as she disappeared through the door.

As the echoes of their footsteps faded, I found myself standing alone in the courtyard, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The unexpected connection I'd felt with Princess Aramar lingered, a warmth in my chest that I both welcomed and resented. Her words had struck a chord deep within me, giving voice to feelings I'd long suppressed.

But with that warmth came a surge of guilt. How could I even consider opening up to someone new when Adina's memory still haunted me? The weight of her loss, the burden of my role in her fate, pressed down on me like a physical thing.

I turned to Ravana, who had remained motionless since his defeat. "Reset," I commanded, and he smoothly rose to his feet, retrieving his fallen sword.

"Are you certain you wish to continue, Your Highness?"

"I need to clear my head," I muttered, raising my sword once more. "Let's go again."