A Body Slam is a Perfectly Acceptable Alarm Clock

Natalia

A current of restless energy woke me before dawn on what should have been the second-to-last day of our honeymoon. I turned my head on the pillow and was pleased to see the king still sound asleep beside me, his breathing even and deep. Excellent. A sly smile spread across my face as a perfect plan for his morning wake-up call formed in my mind. With the deliberate grace of a predator, I eased myself out of bed, each movement slow and calculated so as not to prematurely disturb Mr. Psycho. Once my feet were planted firmly on the floor, I crouched low, tensing every muscle in my body. I took a deep breath, and then I leaped.

A strangled yell erupted from Viktor. I cackled. So, so easy.

"What in the name of the ancients was that?" he shouted, scrambling into a sitting position.

Gasping with laughter, I managed to roll off the bed and onto the plush carpeting. "Just your morning wake-up call," I choked out, tears of mirth streaming down my cheeks at the sight of him—disheveled, bewildered, and utterly incandescent with rage. I am fully aware that I can be obnoxious, and I embrace it. If only Morgan could have seen this. She would have been laughing just as hard, especially given the number of times I’d done something similar to her before one of our games. The thought of her brought a familiar, sharp twinge of loneliness. The fact that Morgan wasn't at my wedding was a wound I wasn't sure would ever heal, but the alternative—the thought of her being gone forever—was simply unbearable.

"What did you just do?" he demanded again.

"Oh, please, I used to do this to Morgan all the time. It’s not that bad," I said, laughing at the memory. "I'd get up, walk over to her house, get her dad's permission, and then I’d hurl the nearest object at her head while she was sleeping." Usually, it was some kind of ball. Ah, the good old days.

"Then I must give this friend of yours immense credit for tolerating you for so many years," he said darkly. "You are a menace."

My smile was wide and unrepentant. "I know," I said with pride. Then, in my most singsong voice, I chirped, "Time to get up, Mr. Psycho!" and whipped the heavy covers off him, exposing him to the cool morning air. I could see the irritation simmering in his dark eyes. Perfect. If he weren't annoyed, I wouldn't be doing my job.

“Mr. Psycho?” he repeated in a tone of disbelief.

I giggled again. I didn’t know why, but I was in an exceptionally good mood today, feeling as if I were floating on a cloud. "It's what I called you in my head before I learned your name," I said cheerfully.

I heard him mutter, "That explains so much."

A new idea sparked, and I headed for the closet, beginning to rummage through the racks of clothing in search of a dress in the poorest possible condition. This was surprisingly more difficult than it sounded, as most of them were flawless and looked brand new. Wait a minute. I was becoming a girly-girl! It had been months since I'd last worn pants! No! The horror!

"What are you doing?" he demanded, his voice still thick with sleep and annoyance.

Deciding Viktor didn't need to know about my personal pants-related tragedy, I said, "I thought since your people don't know what you look like, and they certainly don't know me, we could tour the nearest village."

"No."

"Aw, come on! It'll be fun!"

"No."

"I'll—" The words caught in my throat as I realized what I was about to say. As long as Jace wasn't involved. The bargain. The wasted favor. My eyes widened in panic. "Wait! I didn't—"

"Deal," he cut in smoothly, a triumphant smirk playing on his lips. "And remember, you are to stay by my side at all times."

Oh, wonderful. You'd think I would have learned my lesson after the last time, but apparently not. Fantastic. Now Viktor had another favor to hold over my head. This was just shaping up to be the best day ever.

"Fine," I grumbled, my good mood deflating slightly. "Are you getting out of bed or not?" So what if I was a little annoyed about owing him another favor? I had a right to be grumpy! At least, I would in Ameria. Knowing Viktor, I wasn't so sure that right applied here, and if I asked, he’d probably make certain it didn’t.

After Viktor finally rose, we dressed in our rattiest attire, a sensation that felt oddly liberating. We grabbed a bag for any potential winnings and, after Viktor left a quick note for Markus informing him that we were fine and not to be searched for, we snuck out of the manor. Apparently, Viktor didn't want the staff to see him dressed as a commoner. For once, I refrained from mocking his vanity. Just before entering the town, Viktor and I completed our disguises by scuffing up our clothes and smudging dirt on our faces.

As we stepped into the town proper, my earlier joy evaporated. The sight that greeted me was an immediate blow to my spirits. The dust, the poverty, the quiet desperation that hung in the air—I had forgotten how grim life was for the average person in this world. Does that make me a bad person? The fact that I forgot? I hope not.

This time, however, I was grateful for one small mercy: I didn't stand out. As we navigated the crowded thoroughfare like seasoned professionals, I wondered if Viktor had ever done this before. I decided to ask the question aloud. "Have you done this before?"

"Yes."

I hadn't expected that answer, and it surprised me. "Really?" I pressed, needing to confirm.

He nodded, his eyes scanning the bustling marketplace.

"Who are you and what have you done with Viktor?" I asked, only half-joking.

"Why does everyone keep asking me that question lately?" he murmured to himself before speaking to me more clearly. "Yes. Markus and I used to do this once every few weeks."

I just stared at him, my brain struggling to process this new information. Who knew Viktor could have fun without me coercing him into it?

"What?" he said, his tone defensive. "Signing paperwork does grow tedious, you know."

I still couldn't form a response. Fun and Viktor. The two words simply did not belong together in the same sentence. My brain felt like it was on the verge of short-circuiting.

As we continued through the village, I noticed something I had missed the last time. While a large portion of the population was clearly suffering, it was also clear that this was the only life they had ever known. And though my heart ached for them, many of them also seemed… happy. How they managed it was beyond me. I could never be content if I were in their shoes, never knowing where my next meal was coming from. Just then, I saw a little girl with a bright smile run to her mother, throwing her arms around the woman's legs in a tight hug. Most of the happy faces belonged to people who were with their families. That familiar ache of loss returned, and a lump formed in my throat as I thought of my own.

Viktor’s voice jolted me from my melancholic thoughts. "It appears they are preparing for some sort of festival." I looked around. Were they? Having never been to a festival here, it didn't look like much to me.

"How can you tell?" I asked him.

Viktor paused before a rickety wooden stand and pulled a few bronze coins from a small purse. "Because they have game stalls set up," he replied, gesturing with his head.

He was right. Now that I knew what to look for, I took another look around and saw them—makeshift booths offering games of skill and chance dotted throughout the square. I grinned. It looked like I might have my best day ever after all. I examined the stall where Viktor had stopped. At the back, three painted bottles were stacked in a pyramid. The game was instantly recognizable, even more so when the stall’s proprietor handed Viktor two scuffed leather balls. Some games, it seemed, were timeless. They were at least twenty feet away, making it a difficult shot. I held my breath as Viktor’s first throw missed by a hair, the wind from its passage making the bottles tremble. Then, on his second throw, he brought the entire stack down with a deeply satisfying clatter. I let out a loud, whooping cheer.