How To Train Royalty

Three

Erin stared at the man who just claimed he was a prince, her expression blank and her hand still pointing his own weapon at him. She wasn’t sure which to address first—the fact that he had dark gray hair and his eyes were a deep shade of purple, or the fact that he was deadly serious when he said he was a prince.

“I have already answered your question,” Alaric said, looking down at the sword that was only inches away from scraping at the front of his shiny gilded cuirass. “You should put that weapon down before you hurt yourself.”

Erin's eyebrow raised at that, which Alaric failed to notice because his eyes were too busy wandering around. “Tell me, where am I? What place is this?” he asked.

Erin slowly lowered the sword but didn’t it give it back. “You are obviously delusional, but I appreciate the help back there. So I’m going to just leave this,” she threw the heavy sword at the farthest corner of the dead-end, which Alaric watched in horror, “there so you can’t chop my head off before I leave. Goodbye.” She gave him a mocking salute, looked around for any signs of the two men previously chasing her, then went on her way, leaving the prince to stand there with a dumbfounded look on his face.

He quickly retrieved his weapon then rushed to the mouth of the alley to look for Erin. As soon as he stepped into the main street and got a good look at 2nd Avenue, his eyes went wide and he took a step back.

“W-what…” he couldn’t believe his eyes—buildings made of bricks all lined up beside a concrete road, people wearing a different style of clothing he had never seen before, fast wheeled things with lights rushing by. He didn’t know where exactly he was, but it sure wasn’t anywhere within or in the vicinity of his kingdom.

Alaric closed his eyes tightly then opened them again, unsure if he was dreaming or hallucinating. But the lights were too bright, the noise was too loud, and the mixed smell of smoke and trash was too pungent. He wasn’t just imagining things. He had been transported into a place in what seemed like an entirely different world, and he had no idea how. Most importantly, he didn’t know how to get back.

A sense of panic filled him as he faced a completely novel situation. He needed answers, but there was no one to ask—well, except for that woman. Left with no other choice, he began to run in the direction where he last saw her go.

***

“Package dropped,” Erin typed in the message she sent to her client. Not twenty seconds later, she was notified that money had been sent into her account. She placed her phone back into her pocket and walked up to a parked food truck selling sandwiches.

“The usual, Harry,” she said, sounding bored as she leaned on the window.

“Coming right up,” the man answered, wasting no time to arrange her order.

In the middle of watching Harry fix up her dinner, Erin suddenly got this weird feeling that made her look back. At first, she didn’t know what it was, until she saw a figure running on the street at full speed towards her direction.

“Ugh,” she groaned as she realized who it was plowing through the people on the sidewalk.

“Order up,” Harry called, sliding a wrapped salami sandwich and a cup of soda towards the window.

“Hey!” Alaric shouted meters away, obviously at Erin who completely disregarded him as she collected and paid for her meal.

Harry leaned over and nodded towards Alaric. “You know that guy?” he asked.

Without even looking back, Erin shrugged. “Never seen him before. Thanks, Harry,” she said as she took a bite of her food and walked away.

“Hey! Miss!” she heard the so-called prince call out again, but this time, he had caught up to her.

Erin continued her pace and swallowed her food, seemingly unbothered as she looked ahead. “I don’t know who you are, but you can’t murder me with all these people around,” she calmly said before taking another bite.

Alaric, who was beginning to sweat buckets under his battle gear, looked wildly confused. “I was not planning to—you are gravely mistaken! I only need your help.”

No response. He walked beside her and matched her pace, making a slightly disgusted face at how Erin took another huge bite that cause a few things to fall out of the sandwich. Getting out of his daze, he focused on the matter at hand. “I’m lost, you see,” he continued unprompted. “I don’t know where I am or when I am. One moment I was in a cave about to be attacked by a rogue, and then the next I was in… I was there. Here, in this kingdom. You have to help me find your king.”

Erin suddenly stopped, turned to Alaric, swallowed her food, and said, “First of all, I don’t have to do anything for you. Second, Mr. Knight—"

“Prince Alaric.”

Erin rolled her eyes. “Alaric, does this hellhole look like a kingdom to you? You’re in Ashen City. Try coming back here in the daylight if you want to see it alive and prosperous.”

“What do you—"

Just then, she spotted the theater where a few actors in medieval clothing loitered out front.

“Oh, here you are!” Erin happily exclaimed, putting her hand on the back of Alaric's armor to push him forward. “People like you, see?” she nodded toward the actors and continued to propel Alaric in their direction. “Hey, guys! I think you’re missing your King Arthur understudy!” she exclaimed.

“What is hap—” Alaric looked around confused as the group of actors donning costumes circled around him to ask him questions and check out his armor. Erin slipped away and continued on her path, eating untroubled.

It was a dog-eat-dog world they lived in—every person for themselves. Having had to be independent ever since she was a child both too young and too innocent, Erin had to learn that the hard way. She had to make it on her own with no manuals, no shortcuts, and definitely no helping hands.

She crumpled up the wrapper in her fist and threw it into the bin right before crossing the street. A few meters behind her, she could hear that Alaric guy yelling after her, but with the pedestrian light blinking, there was no way he would catch up to her.

“Please, I need your help! I don’t know anyone else in this—” Alaric was cut off by a loud honk as a car halted dangerously near his legs. Erin turned to see him in the middle of the road—stupid as he was—trying to cross through the speeding traffic. “In this town! I have nowhere else to go,” he continued. The fear and panic in his face were apparent, as he took another step and almost got hit by another car. The driver angrily honked and screamed at him.

“Jesus Christ!” Erin exclaimed. “There are stoplights for a reason, you dumbass!” she screamed as Alaric wildly looked around in confusion, saying a string of apologies as he moved back and forth in his confusion. It was then that she realized that the man did not know how to cross the road.

Erin loudly groaned and held out her hand. She can be merciless if needed, but she knew where to draw the line—and she sure as hell did not want a life on her hands. “Just—fine, step back for a second, will you? Back to the sidewalk!” As she kept screaming out instructions, Alaric finally understood what he had to do and successfully moved away from the road.

“God, do you have a death wish?” Erin yelled in her frustration. The pedestrian light finally turned green and the cars stopped, but Alaric stood still on the other side, unsure whether he could cross or not.

“Oh my g—” Erin rolled her eyes in disbelief. “How did this guy survive to whatever age he was without getting run over?” she thought before waving for Alaric to cross the street. He nodded and jogged towards her, warily regarding the stopped cars as he passed by them, as if traumatized by the earlier event. Erin couldn’t believe that this was the same guy that singlehandedly made two grown large men run with their tails between their legs. It just wasn’t right.

Once Alaric had reached her, he placed his hands over his knees and took deep breaths, as if he had just been through a great ordeal. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—"

“Whatever. You said you have nowhere to go? You’re not from here?” Erin coldly asked, looking at him from his curious gray hair to his dirty black leather boots.

“I’m not,” he said in all seriousness as he regained his composure and stood up straight. “Please, I need your help. I will compensate you greatly. I swear it.”

“Compensation?” Erin asked, suddenly feeling a bit more helpful than before. The man did look like he was well-fed. Even though he was dressed ridiculously, his armor seemed heavier and more realistic than those actors. His sword, too, did not seem to be fake. It was enough for Erin to re-evaluate her precious stance. He had money to splurge on this quality of medieval crap, a hair dye and colored contacts, but he did not know how to cross a street and he seemed to be deep into this princely role. So far, it can be assumed that he was a man coddled by his rich family his entire life.

“What compensation exactly?” she asked.

“A bag of gold and jewels,” he answered without hesitation, his eyes pleading.

Erin narrowed her eyes at him as she calculated her response. No manuals, no shortcuts, no helping hands—that was how the world worked as she knew it. But was it considered helping if she would get something in return? No. It was a business deal.

“Give me your sword,” she demanded, putting her hand out.

“My sword?” Alaric echoed, but he obliged anyway.

“It’s insurance,” Erin replied as she examined the weapon. It really was weighty, and the designs on the hilt and scabbard alone showed how intricately it was made. If she wouldn’t get her bag of gold and jewels as promised, she could surely sell this for a good price.

“You can stay but just for the night, got it?” she asked as she continued to walk. Alaric followed closely behind her.

“Yes, thank you!” he happily said with a look of relief.

“This is the first and last time I’m going to pick off a stray,” she thought to herself. “I better get good karma for this.”