Princess of my Immortal Heart

Chapter 3: Vincent

Vincent Valtar Ulrik Morganthe Sangre was in his prime. The young solider he was fighting now was quick, but still weaker than he was. He had an arrogance that he was a great swordsman and Vince was all too happy to show him otherwise. The clang of metal on metal and the smell of the wet grass under their feet was like a drug to Vince and he felt invigorated. Working out with his men was his favorite pastime. His opponent parried his blow and swung, but he dodged it easily. With a quick swing of his sword, he sent the other man’s sword flying from his grasp, and then gently pointed the tip of his sword to the man’s chest. “I do believe that is my win, Kenny.” He said quietly, smiling at his solider. “You are a great fighter, your Highness, a very worthy opponent indeed. I’m greatly honored to have the opportunity to learn from you and fight by your side.” Kenny replied humbly and bowed before Vince. “Oh, get up, you fool. While your praise is appreciated, I prefer to have a strong warrior by my side than a bowing buffoon at my feet.” Vince laughed and clapped the young man on the back. “Who’s next?” Vince called, looking around to his men. “How about me, dear brother?” he heard Zaria say from behind him. His men bowed before her as she stood dressed in her black leggings and red tunic with their family’s crest in gold on the front. Her tall knee-high brown boots hugged her calves and her long, thick, black hair was tied back. She held a sword in one hand and a helmet in the other. She could tempt any man alive. Vince was not so blind that he could not see how beautiful and shapely his sister was. It was not a wonder why he and his father protected her so closely. However, it was very difficult indeed, when she chose to parade around dressed like that in front of his men. “Sister, how many times must we go over this? Swordplay and fighting is not for a delicate woman like yourself. Why don’t you go find Aunt Tawny and let her do your hair or go shopping with Marlissa and leave this to the men and myself?” Vincent replied in a condescending tone. “If you are too much of a coward to fight me, my brother, what message does that send to your men? If some of the Cast Outs are delicate like me, should you let them pass?” She asked sweetly, undeterred. “Of course not! That is not what I meant and you know it. Stop twisting my words to suit your agenda.” Vincent snapped and glared at her. “Well, well. There is still some fight left in you. I was getting worried there for a minute. I was afraid the handsome Kenny had taken the fight right out of you.” She replied, smiling mischievously. She knew that would get his attention. No one seemed to be able to get the best of Vince, no one except her and her parents, of course. “Fine. You want to dress and fight like a man, I’ll show you how to lose like one.” Vincent said smoothly and put on his helmet. Zaria smiled with triumph as she donned her own helmet and brought her sword up to the ready. She and Vince saluted each other acknowledging that they were ready for the fight, than began to slowly circle one another. Vincent knew his sister was much lighter and weaker than he was and had already resolved to take it easy with her, yet not so easy that she did not quickly realize his words to her were true. Why does she always have to be so stubborn? He wondered to himself. She made a few quick swings at him, which he easily parried and blocked. When he took a sharp swing of his own, he could tell it took all her strength to block him. She had spirit he would give her that. He couldn’t help but admire her for not giving up the minute that blow hit her. Still, swordplay was no joke and he did not want to see her get hurt. He stepped back and held his sword low. “Give it up, Zaria. I don’t want to hurt my little sister.” He said calmly. “I am only your “little” sister by four minutes, dear brother. Please do not treat me as if there are many years difference between us. Now, pick up your sword and fight me, blood breath!” she shouted, then giggled as he quickly brought up his sword and stood at the ready position. “Fine, have it your way, fur face!” he shouted back and quickly ran at her, sword high. Zaria blocked his hard blow, but the power of it reverberated down her arms and she had to bend down on one knee to balance herself. Her brother was very strong and a master with his sword. She pushed him back with all her strength and then spun around quickly and knocked his feet out from under him. He fell back hard on the grass and his sword went flying, as did his helmet. Zaria pointed the tip of her sword to his chest and pulled off her helmet. Her bright silver eyes met his burning gold ones as she smiled down at him. “You see, dear brother. A woman can fight just as well with a sword as you. You would do well not to underestimate a simple female who looks delicate.” She said sweetly, then spun around and walked away. She knew the men were staring at her,absolutely dumbfounded by what they had just witnessed, and she stood a little taller. Vincent sat up and watched as his sister sashayed away. He shook his head and smiled. She was most certainly not a delicate little woman content with just shopping and nails. Her inner wolf was fierce and she carried that trait proudly. He just hoped that it did not get her into trouble one day. “She’s a handful, sire.” Kyle said quietly, as he stepped up beside Vincent and helped him up off the wet grass. “That she is, Kyle. I just hope it aides her and doesn’t get her killed.” Vincent replied, looking to his servant. Kyle was a decent looking young man. He was shorter then Vince, only coming up to his chin, and very lean. He was the son of a farmer who supplied fruits and veggies to the castle. He had come to the castle seeking to train under Vincent and become a soldier in his army. He had sandy colored hair, slight build, and dark brown eyes. He was strong in his own right; however, Kyle Lemmon was not fit for war. He was just took kind and tenderhearted. One day, while they were training with the mace, Kyle had swung his mace at his opponent, Jaycen, and barely dented his armor. He had screamed and broken down into hysterics, begging Jaycen for forgiveness. The other men had laughed at him and teased him mercilessly, but Vince’s heart went out to him. Therefore, Vince had spoken to his father and asked to take Kyle on as his personal assistant rather than a soldier. His father, and Kyle’s, heartedly agreed. Kyle was very grateful and had done his best to see to every demand. He was very loyal and Vince appreciated having him around. “Come, sire, Lady Tawny is looking for you. The seamstress is here for your final fitting for Saturday’s ceremony.” Kyle said, smiling at Vince. “Ah yes, of course. Please tell Aunt Tawny and my cousin, Tessa, that I will be along shortly. I want to shower and change first.” Vincent replied. “At once, sire. Then shall I go to the garrison and polish your armor?” Kyle asked, bowing. “If that’s what you want to do, Kyle, be my guest. However, I wish you would take a break, occasionally, and go see your father. It’s been nearly a year since you’ve seen him and the old man could use your help with the harvest.” Vincent replied, and gently patted Kyle on the shoulder. “If that is what will please you, your Highness, I will leave this very evening. However, I will return on Friday to help you prepare for the ceremony. May I invited my parents and little sister to the ceremony, sire?” Kyle asked. “Well, of course, you dolt!” Vincent said and playfully smacked Kyle upside his head. They both laughed and walked back toward the castle.