A Spar or a Dance?

"Absolutely not." Ísar repeated, stretching to get himself ready for his swordsmanship lessons.

"Ricooooooo," Osayi whined, using his Castellonian nickname. "Rico my beloved King of Kings please? Pretty please? Pretty please with kisses?"

Xinghua was too busy inspecting the wooden swords of the training ground to even be a part of the conversation. Ísar found himself staring at the other boy's broadening back, quickly looking away to avoid being seen.

"Osayi, please. You are a prince. Get off the floor," Ísar begged in that wistful way he usually spoke. He was actively trying to avoid eye contact with the Prince as he realized quickly that looking into Osayi's puppy eyes made saying 'no' virtually impossible.

"It's the last day of the festival tomorrow and we didn't even go once," the prince continued to whine while holding unto Ísar's legs with little to no shame. "We can go for two hours? No, one! No, two. One's too short, I can't do that."

It had been the fourth day since Ísar had met the two royals and he couldn't lie to himself. He had never felt more alive.

It was almost like the Ghost Prince had been given life. He knew for a fact that their friendship was born out of necessity to strengthen alliances but he couldn't find it in him to care about such details.

Ísar had never wished for friends. He didn't think it was a thing he could wish for and seeing as he never had any before, he didn't think he was missing out on much.

Most of the time, he even welcomed their disruptions when he was busy but this wasn't one of those times. He had messed up his schedule of the past month in not even a full week simply because Ísar found it too difficult to reject whatever the two boys asked for.

Whether it was Osayi's random urge to teach Ísar how to swim as soon as the sun rose or Xinghua being adorable and nervously asking him if he could read his books in Ísar's study while the young King worked. Ísar couldn't turn them away and he had a theory.

It was the eyes. Especially Osayi's. The Oduwaye's being descendants of the sun and moon gods most likely carried some weight. Imagine saying no to the embodiment of the sun.

This time, however, he was putting his foot down.

"Osayi," Ísar said in what he hoped was not too harsh of a tone. "Exchange of power in this kingdom always breeds civil unrest. The coronation festival has the highest chances of unseen violent crimes. It isn't safe."

He dared to look at the sunny Prince and Ísar could've sworn he felt a twist in his heart when he saw just how sad Osayi looked.

"What about this," Xinghua said, suddenly appearing on Ísar's right and putting an arm around the young king. "During the training spar today, if I win, we go to the festival tomorrow. With a guard of course."

How are his arms so much bigger than mine? What does he eat?

Wait…What did he say?

Osayi finally got off from the ground, joy back on his face.

"Unless the King doesn't want to take that chance."

He knew what Xinghua was doing. The older boy had a surprisingly mischievous side to him and on occasion, enjoyed teasing Ísar a little too much. It didn't help that Ísar would get distracted and be unable to formulate coherent responses most of the time.

Just avoid the eyes.

"What happens when you lose?" Ísar quipped back, looking up at the taller boy.

Even I find that question ridiculous.

Xinghua's smirk turned into a boyish smile as he raised one of his thick eyebrows. "When? Alright. If, by some divine intervention, you win, we'll do what you tell us to do the entirety of tomorrow."

"Uhm…we?"

"Osayi, you're the one that wanted to go in the first place so yes. We. Do you actually think I'll lose?"

"I do usually admire your immeasurable faith in yourself, Prince Xinghua, though not at this very moment," Ísar said, sounding irritated even to his own ears yet making no actual plans to move from the Prince's hold.

At least not until he noticed the way Osayi was looking at them, a feline-like grin forming on his face. He didn't know why the other boy made such an expression but it made him take a step away from Xinghua, making sure to grab one of the wooden swords before doing so.

"I accept your offer. Sir Erik." Ísar got into position, his childish confidence waning away bit by bit now that he'd stepped away from Xinghua. His stubbornness didn't let him back down, however.

Xinghua was an accomplished swordsman by the time he was eleven and a known figure in the battles that occurred around the Eastern Empire. If Ísar stopped to think for a moment, this was by far the stupidest thing he'd ever agreed to.

"Right," the older man responded with an exhausted sigh before standing in-between them. "I'll be the spectator. The loser is whoever gets disarmed first."

"I will also be the spectator!" Osayi announced, standing beside the tired Knight.

"Are you sure you don't want to reconsider, your majesty?"

Ísar had just about had it with the mocking way Xinghua always called him 'your majesty.'

"If the little Prince is too scared to go up against a King, he could've just said so," Ísar bit back, a little satisfied by the way Xinghua's confident grin fell into a scowl.

He could hear Osayi whistle and curse from the side but Ísar did not take his eyes off his opponent.

"Are you two done?"

Both of them nodded and with the signal given by the teacher, their wooden swords clashed.

Ísar was immediately overwhelmed. A single swoop of his sword and Xinghua had practically flung him to the side. He still gripped his sword as he fell on his side.

The king did not, for a second, actually think he was going to win this spar. All that talk and boasting was just him not wanting to let Xinghua win every damned argument.

Xinghua had been holding a sword since he could crawl. Ísar only picked up swordsmanship a month prior. The more he thought about it, the more it was dawning on him how much his goading could have easily been seen as him looking down on Xinghua.

"Get up." Xinghua's tone was that of an order. It was reminiscent of General Björn's manner of speech.

And Ísar listened, getting back to position and Xinghua did not give him a moment to relax. The prince was immediately on top of him, Ísar struggling to handle the weight of both the sword and the prince's swings.

He blocked an overhead swing just barely and their faces got close. Xinghua didn't even look like he was trying.

"You take orders well for a King," Xinghua said, easing up on his weight and letting Ísar put distance between them.

The king was panting. His hands hurt and his thighs were burning. His spars with Sir Erik had never felt like that.

Xinghua eased his stance and rested his wooden sword over his shoulder, staring at Ísar. The way he was so relaxed despite their bet made Ísar's eye twitch.

Since when did I fall for provocation?

"Legs closer together."

The random sentence from Xinghua took the king off guard. He blinked and next thing he knew, the prince was at his side.

"Legs closer. Your balance is off," Xinghua continued to teach him out of nowhere, physically fixing Ísar's stance himself. "Your reaction time is too slow as well. If this were a proper fight, you would've died too early to be anything noteworthy."

Ísar was confused, even while trying to replicate what he was being told.

Xinghua took a step back and appraised him before giving a single nod of approval and brandishing his sword again. "Fight!"

They clashed again and just as easily as before, Xinghua had him tumbling to the ground.

"Your instincts are sharp," Xinghua continued as he helped Ísar up. "You stunt yourself with how much you overthink your own decisions. You do not have the luxury of time against an enemy. Act as you think. If possible, act before you can even think."

What the hell is going on? Are we still sparring?

He blinked and was on the floor again, this time pinned with the back of Xinghua's wooden blade hovering over his throat. "Dead. It hasn't even been a full fifteen minutes and by all accounts, I have killed you over twenty times. Still think you can win, my King?"

Ísar felt how intensely he was blushing in that moment. He sighed and dropped his sword.

"Fine. You win. I was wrong. I apologize." Ísar wasn't pouting. He didn't pout.

"You can be so adorable sometimes," Xinghua said with a laugh. His face softened again and he looked so warm.

The prince got up and pulled Ísar with him. Osayi immediately jumped Xinghua with a hug, professing his undying love for the other boy.

Before either of them could glance at him again, Ísar hurriedly headed for the exit. "We will leave for the festival first thing tomorrow evening and I will provide you with the necessary items for the trip! Now if you all would excuse me I have to wash up!"

The King practically ran inside the castle, going up a floor until he was safely within his room. He slammed the door shut and slid down it with his knees drawn up to his chest and his face in his hands burning a bright dark red.

What was that? Why would he even say that to me?

He folded his arms on his knees and hid his face while mumbling to himself, "He's so stupid."

_________________________

~OSAYI'S PERSPECTIVE~

The spar had started out so very heated but quickly changed in its tune. Osayi was loving each and every development.

He noticed when the intensity of rivalry took an unexpected shift. The swift and bolder-like strikes from Hua Hua became long and drawn out swerves. The fast and awkward blocks and dodges from Rico turned into close-proximity blocks. At one point, if one removed the swords, it would've looked like Xinghua was about to dip Rico as the final move for a dance routine.

From an epic play about rivals to an opera depicting enemies to lovers. It made Osayi's eyes shine.

Is this a spar or a dance?

Osayi and the pissy knight exchanged knowing looks, the Prince's grin getting wider and wider with glee while the knight sighed.

Osayi was having so much fun, he almost didn't want to go home.