“G’day fellow citizens of the realm!” the notice read. “I, your humble Prince Chadwick the 127th of the House of Chaddington, have organized some entertainment for your otherwise dull township!”
I rolled my eyes. Way to win your citizens over Chad.
“I have organized a fighting tournament to take place two nights from now featuring our fair lady, Amelia the ‘Amazon’, for your viewing pleasure! No entry fee required, as I am funding the reward for this event from my own coffers! So don’t hesitate, and don’t be late! Place your bets, and may the best man win!”
I was amused that, despite featuring me, he still implied a man was going to win. I scoffed at the parchment and walked back over to our table. Chad was already sitting back down, a tankard tipped all the way back as he guzzled down its contents, excess ale flowing out the corners of his mouth and down his neck. Dorian was doing the same, engaged with the prince in a drinking contest.
Dorian slammed his mug down first, “I win!”
He thrust his arms up in the air triumphantly. I grinned as I saw the smile on his face was more relaxed than normal and there was some extra color in his cheeks.
They were getting drunk.
I glanced over at Ash, who saw the mischievous smile on my face, but said nothing and continued eating. Chad had finished his drink and burped loudly, disappointed in the loss. Dorian slapped him on the back.
“Very prince-like! Careful Chad, if you let yourself slip up any further, you might be mistaken for a poor commoner, like the rest of us!”
I raised my eyebrow at this. Sure, Dorian wasn’t nobility, but as the firstborn to an influential Steward, he was far from common himself.
Chad didn’t seem to notice. “Now, now, my dear Dorian, heavy is the head that wears the Crown! We nobility are allowed to let our hair down every once in a while!”
I noticed that Chad became much less intense when he had a few drinks. So much so that someone could almost mistake him for a human! He even loosened up enough to be borderline charming on some nights. If I wasn’t careful, I could find myself actually liking the princeling. I sighed and brushed my hopeless romanticism aside. No time for that now. With his posting on the notice board, I now had an agenda while his defenses were down.
“So, this tournament. It features me?”
Chad somehow sobered up immediately.
“Of course! I said you were ready for the next step in your training, didn’t I?” He then shrugged, “Also I was getting extremely bored out here. I felt pity on the people here, with no excitement to shake up their dull lives, and I felt it was my duty to liven things up for my subjects!”
“And how is me beating up local volunte—, sorry entrants, training? You can’t possibly think so poorly of my progress that you think the men in town are going to give me an adequate challenge?”
“Who said the villagers were the only ones entering?” he said with a laugh, as he slapped the table.
With that he eyed Dorian and then Noelle across the tavern, serving patrons. I followed his gaze and realized his game.
“So, the volunteers will be to swell up the ranks of the tournament while this will actually be a fight between the four of us?”
Dorian tapped the side of his nose while Chad smirked.
“Basically. The standings may be rigged so you won’t actually see any volunteers as you make your way towards the finals against yours truly.” He beat his chest before adding, “To get to me, you’ll have to best Noelle and Dorian first.”
At this, Dorian finally took offense. “You think she’ll be the one to face you in the finals, Chad? We all know it’s going to be me who runs away with your lunch money!” He winked sidelong at me, “Daddy is going to be so upset with you for just giving me money like that!”
I smiled, knowing he was teasing me just to get a rile out of Chad. Dorian knew he would have to put in the effort to stop me. Chad and I had unfinished business, but we all had our reasons for winning I suppose.
I also loved how my abbreviation for Chadwick caught on, with Dorian and Ash using it frequently. I had even heard Noelle slip up and use it a time or two.
Chad did not.
“I shall remind you to call me by Chadwick, sir!”
Dorian gave a look of mock hurt. “Then why don’t you correct her when she calls you ‘Chad’?”
Chad turned and gave me a drunken attempt at an endearing smile, but instead it looked like he was just struggling not to pass out.
“Those betrothed always give each other pet names! Isn’t that right, my Sweetness?”
My eyes shot up in a disgusted and surprised look and I struggled to keep dinner down.
Dorian enjoyed my reaction a little too much, slapping a hand over his face while rolling out of his chair in laughter.
Chad stared down at him, “Alright, maybe Sweetness isn’t the right pet name for her. I’ll think of a better one! It’s not like I’ve heard you use any names with any success either! At least I can cross those off my list!”
Dorian stopped laughing just long enough to heave himself back up to the table before responding, “I guess that means you’re stuck using her real name then!”
At that, Ash and I started howling along with Dorian while Chad stewed in a new drink.
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The village air on the day of the tournament was filled with excitement and anticipation. Roscoe knew a business opportunity when he saw one and organized a mobile bar at the tournament grounds just outside the town borders. Chad had worked out the details to craft a makeshift dirt arena for the fights to take place in, as well as cobbling together makeshift stands and seating for the crowds.
And oh boy, there were going to be crowds!
The entire village was planning to close up shop to show up for the tournament. It was a main event like none Bronzemead appeared to have ever seen. Between my recent skyrocketing reputation, local favorites Noelle and Dorian on the docket, and the Crown Prince promising his own time in the limelight, the town was abuzz about who would win it all.
Chad was the odds-on favorite, not only because he was prince, but because of the standing’s reveal the day before. The tourney roster showed there were a total of eight fighters, with four villagers not able to resist the winnings. Or maybe they just were hoping for 15 minutes of fame and the opportunity to smack the prince?
The tournament bracket had been posted yesterday to allow plenty of time for the betting odds to be announced. I was surprised to find myself third best. The size of the tournament pot rose even more when the prince further announced he would match the bet winnings to the already existing purse.
Upon review of my place in the standings, as Chad had promised, I was not slated to fight any of the townspeople. Not unless the one poor volunteer on my side of the bracket managed to beat Dorian in the first round, anyway.
Barring that unlikely outcome, Chad’s claim that I would have to go through my tutors to win it all was a correct one. On his end of the bracket, Chad was the lone heavyweight. He claimed that straws were drawn fair and square for seedings, but when I approached him about the size of the straw drawn for me, he just grinned and spun away.
A non-existent straw. Got it.
Well, if it was a fight he wanted, then I was determined to give him one. I had yet to best Chad during any sparing session, other than our hand-to-hand incident. It also didn’t escape my notice that this tournament was sword fighting only, further swinging the pendulum in Chad’s favor. Noelle wouldn’t be a problem for me but Dorian…
He and I had never crossed blades before. I had only been able to get an idea on his skill from watching his sparing with Chad. And he never showed an intensity on the level I had witnessed when he and Chad defended themselves against the horde.
I would have to remind myself not to take Dorian lightly before jumping ahead to Chad. Dorian made it clear the night Chad announced the tournament at the Wish that he didn’t care about the winnings so much as beating Chad at his own game. And since he would have to fight me to do it, we would have our own dance to play out first.
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The night of the tournament had arrived, and what a grand spectacle it was! Taking a cue from Roscoe’s entrepreneurial spirit, other vendors had also set up street carts to sell some special wares hurriedly prepared for the event. From food carts to stalls with dolls crafted in the likeness of the participants, the whole village was in on it. There were even some small firework shows before the main event got started.
I rushed out and bought four dolls, each in the likeness of my new friends and, of course, myself. As I held my doll, I realized that, months later, I still wasn’t used to how I now looked. It was a basic rag doll for children to enjoy. My doll had been given long purple colored yarn hair, tied up in the Magos over the shoulder style which I had continued to sport, and yellow buttons for eyes. Unfortunately, I still didn’t have a fashionable wardrobe, so it still depicted me in my basic top and pants that Catherine had sewn up for me. It was adorable in its own way, but also still awkward to come to grips with.
This was the new me.
I then studied the dolls of my friends and couldn’t help but still smile. Noelle was adorable in mini maid form, and care had been taken to depict her likeness as best the vendor could, with blonde yarn hair styled in her signature braid and beautiful blue button eyes. I smiled sadly as I thought about our upcoming match.
“I’m going to win, Amelia.” She told me earlier. “And with the winnings, I’m going to find a way to get the Wish out from under Roscoe’s thumb. I’ll make it a better and safer place for any women who want to work there.”
I had felt a pang of guilt when she told me that. My desire to win was driven by pure pride. I had no real interest in the money, other than that it would be nice to not worry about having some for a while. But I didn’t have stakes in this like Noelle. She had the most to lose from our fight.
Chad and Dorian’s dolls were nicer than mine but not as elaborate as Noelle, the town favorite. They did have the similar tunic look, just different colors. Chad’s hair was a little shorter, with a dirty yellow yarn, while Dorian’s was dark brown and in a ponytail. His green button eyes accented his doll’s skin almost as well as they did in person.
To give me some good luck, and out of spite, I stopped by another cart and requested some sewing needles, which I then stuck in doll Chad’s face and stuck my tongue out at it like a child. I didn’t care if anyone saw. We were supposed to relax and have fun, and with my vigorous training, I hadn’t had the pleasure of doing that in a while.
I looked around and noticed a lot of the children running around waving the dolls, and I couldn’t help the warm smile that spread on my face when I realized most of them were dolls of myself and Noelle, even the ones carried around by the boys. Sure, they were just dolls but, maybe I was making a difference already.
