Chapter 11: Lesson

Before I can meet his gaze, he continues.

“I know I’m not fast like my mother or smart like my father, but I would at least not be completely defenseless in the WarLands if you teach me the basics. I felt so helpless when that damned priest attacked you. Even if I had stepped in, I wouldn’t have been able to do anything. I don’t want you to need to protect me,” he bargains. 

True.

There’s a fire in his eyes. He won’t accept no for an answer.

“Can’t you have your sisters to teach you? Or better yet, your mother?” I ask, trying to shirk the responsibility.

“My half-sisters are either working to succeed my father or hate me. And my mother has enough on her plate with my toddler little sister. I don’t have the heart to bother her with this as well,” he elaborates. 

He’s already considered this. Just how long has he been thinking about this?

“It’s a little short notice, Akechi. We’ll be heading off to the WarLands either tonight or tomorrow.”

“All the more reason to start now. You’re the strongest person I know, J. Please,” he pleads.

Not many people can say they’ve had a prince beg them for something. Plus, they do say the best way to perfect a skill is to teach it to someone else. I could use perfection if I’m ever up against that priest again.

“Alright,” I sigh, scratching the top of my head, “right after this. You’ve got a weapon?”

“I’ve got an armory,” he smirks, turning to his bed and lifting his mattress. He wasn’t lying. Underneath, there are battle axes, swords, bows, arrows, and spears. If I wasn’t chewing, I’d click my tongue. Royalty.

“That’ll do,” I nod, “Grab the bow.”

He gives me a look like he’s baffled by my recommendation.

“What?”

“I was hoping we’d start with something a little more… destructive,” he implies, eyes glued to the other two-handed weapons.

“You said it yourself, I’m not fully healed. I may not be able to dodge if you swing at me. Besides, you’re scrawny,” I motion towards his noodle arms, “a bow suits you better. I’ll also have better compatibility with a long-distance supporter.”

Akechi finally assents with sullen nods, crouching to snag some arrows.

“Whoa there, Your Highness. Those are for the advanced lessons. Let’s focus on your form first,” I admonish, brushing my hands together after finishing my meal. 

I swallow two of my antibiotics and follow Akechi through his room’s backdoor and out into his garden. His garden. Forgotten prince, my ass.

The bow isn’t generally my weapon of choice, but I could use it if push came to shove. 

I determine that he’s quite prepared for this, taking note of his appropriate training attire. His low-cut cotton tank top is high under his hairless armpits to catch the sweat that I’ll inevitably make him drip. The dark joggers on his legs allow for breathability while performing a variety of poses. 

His first stance is full of errors. I place my foot in between his and shift one of his legs over so that the distance between his feet can support his firing. 

The way he’s holding the bow is all wrong, too. I have my work cut out for me. Shouldn’t royalty know how to handle weapons like these?

“When holding your arrow, make sure one finger lies above it and two are below. To fire, stretch your string back behind your mouth, at least. You want to be consistent with your draws. Have a straight pull. If it’s too high, you’ll end up shooting downwards. If it’s too low, you’ll shoot upwards and into a curve,” I instruct.

He catches on fast and after an hour or two, he’s ready for the arrows. I set a tray up a rookie distance away for target practice before apologizing to the staff for borrowing it. They won’t want it back after we’re done with it. Akechi misses the first few shots, pelting arrows into the surrounding shrubs. He quickly adapts, I believe because of his enhancement, and starts hitting the tray, albeit the rim.

I move the tray farther away; he doesn’t hit it even after several attempts. Guess that’s too soon for him. I wish I had a moving target so he could get some practical training in, but I’ll leave that part to the WarLands. I notice his sweat is starting to accumulate, staining his tank and wetting his hair.

“That’s enough for one day, Akechi. Go take a shower,” I shoo him off towards his chambers.

“I can keep going,” he insists.

“No, you can’t. Your muscles will be sore tomorrow, especially since you didn’t stretch beforehand. If you keep firing nonstop, you’ll only burn yourself out. Then, you’ll be useful to nobody,” I scold.

“Says the queen of burning herself out,” he grumbles, wiping the sweat off his brow with the hem of his shirt. I use this opportunity to sneak a glance at his bony abdomen, ribs almost visible through his skin.

When we enter back into Akechi’s room, Mika-El’s sitting on one of the lounge chairs.

“Have fun?” he pokes.

“How did you get in here?” Akechi grits, grabbing clothes for after his bath.

“It wasn’t difficult if that’s what you’re asking. The door from the garden was unlocked, and I certainly wasn’t about to wait outside in that hellish weather for you two to get finished playing weaponized cornhole,” he replies, almost annoyed that Akechi would ask. 

He’s no doubt gotten more comfortable around us if he’s talking this informally to one of this country’s princes.

“Why are you here?” I ask, letting my anticipation get the best of me.

He grins, confirming my hopes.

“We’re ready to go. On my side, anyway. I spoke a bit with Akechi after you clocked out. He would handle the resources like food, water, and armaments while I would handle the transportation so as to not arouse further suspicion from your king. My devotees have just informed me that we’ve got an armored car waiting for us in the countryside. We can leave whenever you’re ready.”

I beam, ecstatic. I turn to Akechi, expecting to hear only good things.

“I’ve got the food and water from some countesses I recently spoke to. But the weapons…” his gaze falls to his bed, “we can make do with what we have.”

“What about money?” I inquire. We’ll need it where we’re going if we want to be in any position to interrogate the queen’s royal advisor.

“The currency there is different from ours so I wasn’t able to get my hands on any in such a short timeframe. That High Priest has some but not nearly enough for what we’ll need it for so I plan on just pawning off some wares I picked up around the palace as soon as we get there.” Akechi explains.

I ponder on if that’s okay, if what he’s selling for Northern cash is of value to someone. He doesn’t seem too concerned about it so I suppose not.

“I have a couple more things to stuff in my bag before I’m ready. Meet me at the gate?” I compromise.

Mika nods and Akechi hurries into his bathroom to groom himself. I feel like I’m forgetting something, though. Winter clothes? Toiletries? I look at the sugared crackers on Akechi’s table.

Shit.