Because You Must

Landon entered the healing ward the next day. The morning light filtered through in large shafts of brightness. Both convalescents were awake and in conversation as he approached.

"You’re both well enough to get up and walk about the palace today if you like. Highness, no strenuous activity, or you’ll have undone all of my hard work. I'll have decent clothing brought for you." He left the room again, rubbing his neck tiredly.

Luciana looked over at the prince. “Is he unwell? His face was scratched.”

Mason shrugged. “He’s often called in the night to attend the sick. He’s probably just tired.”

Luciana nodded absently. "After we're dressed, will you take me to the practice yards? I want to spar."

Mason looked at her concernedly. “In your condition?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Luciana rolled her eyes. “I’m not pregnant, Your Highness.”

“Mason. Call me Mason.”

Luciana raised her own eyebrow. “I don’t think so, Your Highness.”

Two servants entered with clothing and a screen. In minutes both of them were dressed and walking down the stone avenue.  

Mason led Luciana down to the practice yards and to Peter.

"Lass, are ya lost?" he asked jokingly.

"I want a sword please," said Luciana patiently.

Peter ambled over to the sword rack and selected a thin sword. Luciana weighed it in her hand and nodded. She glanced over the practice yards, looking for an opponent.

She spotted William not far away and their eyes met. He looked at the weapon in her hand and frowned. “What are you doing here?” he asked, coming over to them.

“Same as you,” Luciana replied. “I thought we might practice together.”

William shifted uncomfortably. “I just don’t feel right about sparring with you with your…”

Luciana’s sword sailed up and William caught it on his instinctively. Her eyes bored into his, challenging him. “What’s wrong? Too out of practice to beat me?”

William grinned in spite of himself and drew away, assuming a ready pose. Luciana remained still, sizing him up swiftly. Without warning she struck and the clash of steel on steel rang out, the first step in their dance.

They were evenly matched, first William having the advantage, then Luciana, and back and forth it went until finally Luciana dealt a mighty blow and knocked William's sword out of his hand. She held her blade at his neck, panting for breath.

William looked delighted with his defeat. "I’m glad your duties haven’t dulled your edge.”

She smirked, lowering her sword. She noticed Mason openly gaping, along with Peter and all of the trainees that had come to watch. Mason seemed impressed, but the other men gave her condescending looks and whispered to each other as they dispersed. Luciana silently returned her sword to Peter and left the yard, retreating to the cool palace.

She made her way to the small room allotted to her, sinking down onto the bed with a sigh. Her back was sore and her ankle throbbed. She splashed some water on her face and neck, fighting to control her discomfort. She closed her eyes and prayed that William wouldn’t notice.

*      *      *      *      *      *

William returned to the stables and began mucking stalls with the other grooms, thinking about Luciana’s triumph.

The look on the prince's face was worth more than gold, he thought with a grin. He chuckled, eliciting a strange look from the other servants.

After bathing and dressing in clean clothes, he went through the servants’ quarters, looking for Luciana’s room. He found it at the end of a tiny hallway and knocked on the door crisply.

“Come in,” came the muffled reply.

He opened the door softly. Luciana was sitting on her bed, rubbing her ankle. Her shoes sat on the floor, discarded. William frowned again. “I knew I shouldn’t have fought you,” he said, sitting next to her on the bed. “You’re still healing.”

Luciana sighed tiredly. “I’ll always be healing. Does that mean we’ll never spar again?”

William remained silent, clenching his fists in frustration. Luciana rewrapped her ankle and stood stiffly. “I need to attend Catherine. She’ll be expecting me now that I’ve been released from the healing ward.”

She went to leave and William grabbed her hand. “How am I supposed to just let you go back to her?” he demanded.

She gave him a pained look and bowed her head. “Because you must,” she said quietly. She pulled her hand away and left the room, leaving the door ajar behind her.