Chapter Eleven

Entry:

I was outside again. 

I like when there's sun, but it's still cool enough for goosebumps. I love it when the wind stills and the sun bathes me in warmth. That moment never lasts long enough. Moments never last long enough. Cruel, it's so cruel. To give me such despair but also that little hope. 

I'm rambling again, indulging my sorrows.

Phoenix 

--

With her skirts in her hands, Pheonix stomped through the grass in a manner she knew Greyson would dub "unladylike". 

The barracks provided as unwelcoming a hello as always. Even more unwelcoming was the empty recreation room- no Greyson. Small grunts led Phoenix to the training room, where, to her leaping joy, she spotted his brown hair upon entry. 

"Phoenix," he paused, his stiff shoulders relaxing as he paused his workout. "What a pleasant surprise. When you said later, I thought you meant after dinner."

"Sorry, I didn't know I had to schedule an appointment to see my friend," she chirped lightly.

His shoulders bounced a little as he laughed. 

"Any updates on your mission?" Greyson inquired.

"You know that I'm not supposed to tell you anything specific," Phoenix said.

"Fine. Any updates on life?"

"Long story short, I need a favor from the Prince, and he'd only do it if I send Isla his way," Phoenix said. "She actually said yes. Eagerly."

"The Prince acts like a spoiled child," Greyson said. 

Sensible. Greyson was sensible, and Phoenix liked that. Phoenix liked hi- 

"What have you been up to?" she asked, cutting off her own thoughts.

"Training. Most of the guys went into the Highlands today for food. Hence why I'm working out by myself."

"I can help you train, if you want," Phoenix offered.

"You can barely lean forward in that dress, let alone train."

"Then give me a pair of your clothes to wear," she replied without thinking, heart leaping. 

He tilted his head, considering the option. "I don't see why not." 

He left the room and Phoenix caught her reflection in the mirror lining the wall. As red as the roses she so despised, that's how bright her face was. Greyson returned with a black shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Before Phoenix's brain could catch up with her heart, Greyson left the room, saying something about guarding the door while she changed. 

Striping to her underwear and her fully exposed chest, Phoenix looked around for tape to provide some support. Sure enough, there was some medical tape on the ground. Her hands reached out to grab the tape and wrapped it around her chest tight enough to keep everything in place. The soft fabric of the sweatpants felt nice as she rolled up the pant legs. One knock sounded on the door to give Greyson the all clear. 

"I was thinking I should teach you a few defensive moves so you can...." he trailed off when he saw her in his clothes, pink spreading over his face. 

Phoenix put her hand on her hips and smirked, "I already know a few defensive moves."

"Oh, really?" he replied, distracted. "Why don't you show me?" 

Phoenix smirked as she made her way over to the training mats, putting extra swing in her hips. She turned to catch Greyson's eyes and lifted her hands, ready to fight. He then, exaggeratedly slow, came towards her as though he were a mugger, his hand held carrying a pretend knife. 

"If I'm approaching you from the front like this, trying to get to your throat, what would you do?"

Phoenix laughed. "Seriously?"

Taking a step forward, she grabbed his outstretched hand, kicked his leg out from under him, and forced him to the ground. He gasped in surprise and opened his palms. Phoenix grabbed the imaginary knife from the ground and pretended to put it up to his throat as he tapped her arm and she released him. His body unfolded and he stood, slowly, eyes wide as he openly gawked at her. 

"Where did you learn that?" he asked, breath slightly irregular.

Phoenix blinked in equal surprise. 

"Greyson, I was the champion this year."

His arms dropped to his sides and his mouth opened a little bit in realization.

"Why did you think I was working for the King? And did you think I got lucky when I took the Prince hostage in the Throne Room?" 

"I forgot about that incident."

"It's nothing worthy of remembrance," Phoenix shrugged. 

"It's the day we met," he said, getting back into his fighting stance. 

Greyson seemed to always bounce back. 

"You're right, per usual," Phoenix smiled. "How about you come at me again, no holding back."

Greyson charged at her with full force, and she had flashbacks to her fight with Sullivan and how he would throw his body around, too. Except this time, Greyson didn't have the muscle to warrant a formidable tactic, making him easy to pin. 

They reset. 

Phoenix pinned him again. 

And again. 

His weak technique only grew sloppier with each yield.

"Shit!" he yelled while tapping out on the mat. Phoenix flinched back in shock at his open anger. 

"Want to take a break?" she offered, getting off him.

"No. Again," he seethed. 

Curious what angry Greyson would be like, she indulged him. 

Phoenix rolled her neck as Greyson went to the opposite side of the mat. Without taking a second to breathe or anything, he turned and charged. 

Phoenix dodged it easily and counter attacked, aiming for his off-balanced legs. His entire body crashed to the floor. She jumped on him, their limbs interlocked, sweaty and slick. When Greyson failed to get out of her grip he tapped out. 

"I just don't get it." Greyson's chest rose and fell eagerly, desperate to regain his breath. 

Phoenix moved off him and sat down so that they were facing each other in the center of the ring, heart skipping, and not because she exerted a little energy. 

"Get what?" Phoenix asked. His body collapsed into itself as he spoke. 

"How can you beat me so easily? Yes, you're a soldier, but I know women don't get trained nearly as well as men. Plus, I put in extra hours, I watch what I eat- I even asked some of the other soldiers to train me personally!" Greyson shouted. A beat of pause. Then, his voice breaking ever so slightly, "Why can't I win?" 

"Are you talking about arm wrestling?" Phoenix lowered her voice. 

  "Yes! The arm wrestles, sparring with other soldiers, and now fighting you. I always lose." He let out a heavy sigh, as if speaking the words aloud lifted a weight off his chest.  "Sorry," he mumbled.

"For what?" Phoenix studied his expression. He seemed tired, he had let out too many sighs not to notice. 

"Getting angry."

Phoenix laughed a little. That was angry? When Daisy or Lucas got mad, they would practically flip the house with their tantrums. Greyson looked up at her, confused at her laughter.

Phoenix cleared her throat and explained as gently as she could, "It's okay, everyone gets mad, and everyone needs to let it out. I'm just happy you felt safe enough to let it out on me."

His look changed from confused to intrigued, all his attention fixed on her, as though no one had said such a thing to him.

"So what if you're not the bronze-type?" Phoenix continued. "All the guys still enjoy hanging out with you, you have a steady job-"

"They don't hang out with me," he interrupted.

"What?"

"The 'guys' you're referring to, we don't hang out. Why do you think they're in the Highlands and I'm here?" 

The more Greyson and she hung out, the more socially inept she realized she was. Greyson and the soldiers seemed to get along so well; Phoenix must have missed something. 

"I have an idea," she proclaimed, rubbing her hands together like she was hatching a genius plan. "Why don't we train during your free time, and you can meet up with Cole." 

"Why would you want me to see Cole?"

"I think you'd get along, especially since you're the same age. You two would benefit each other, an intellectual with an intellectual." 

Now it was Greyson's turn to chuckle softly. "I'm not an intellectual."

"Oh, but you are. You were smart enough to befriend me, weren't you?" 

With this, his small chuckle turned into a full boisterous mess of a laugh, all his anger rippling out.

"You're the worst," Greyson cackled. 

Taking a few breaths, the high eventually came down, leaving mere silence filling the room. Phoenix could manage Greyson's anger. It made her feel special, in a way. 

"Why don't you call me Bird?" she said. "It's my nickname for those closest to me."

"Thanks, Bird."

Warmth swelled her chest. "Anytime." 

Phoenix took her queue and stood, offering a hand to help Greyson up. He grabbed her hand, and she hauled him from the ground, pulling him up. As they stood there, facing each other hand in hand, she forgot what she was going to say, what she was going to do. 

"You should probably change back into that scandalous cloth you call a dress," Greyson whispered. 

Phoenix let go of his hand and smiled. "You're going to start doing 50 push-ups a night. And you're joining my family for dinner."

A groan and a smiled later, he agreed to her terms. Without a word he went back outside to guard the door for her to change, and she realized he was protective, like Cole. Phoenix's second realization was her skin danced whenever Greyson touched her. Like the warmth of sun on her skin. 

Phoenix's hands shook slightly, her heart racing. After changing back, she smiled to herself as she stepped into the dirty, unwelcoming barracks, feeling radiant. 

#

It was supposed to be a simple walk back into the castle.

But anxiety gnawed at her- she was wasting too much time playing nice. She took a detour and headed right, to the west wing of the palace, up the steps, down the halls, through the maze of her thoughts. 

Guards littered outside the Throne Room. The door was shut- at least one royal was inside. Phoenix walked down the hall and passed the Throne Room, giving a small nod to the guards. She wanted to see which royal was inside, and if it were the Queen, then Phoenix could follow her. 

Phoenix slipped down the hall and around the corner, where she waited. Her back was to the wall, and her ear stuck out, so she couldn't see the Throne Room.

But she didn't need to see the Queen walk out of the Throne Room to know it was her. As the Throne Room doors groaned open, a pair of boots and delicate heels echoed through the hallway. 

"I'm going to a meeting with Talon," Phoenix identified as the King speaking, "I'll see you for dinner."

The pair walked around, in the opposite direction of Phoenix, and with them, the guards followed. Phoenix came out of her corner and trailed from a far distance behind. One guard turned his head, noticing her, and Phoenix glanced at a portrait hanging on the wall, taking a pause in her gait to admire the piece. The guard looked ahead and focused on his job, probably seeing nothing but a harmless court girl. 

The royal family continued down the hall and around some corners, until there was a divide. The King went down a hallway to the right, and the Queen went to the left. 

But- the guards only followed the King. 

The Queen was left unaccompanied. 

Why would a royal scared for her life be unaccompanied? Phoenix dropped back a little more and walked on her toes so her heels didn't click on the floor. She stayed far enough behind that she couldn't see the Queen, but instead followed the sound of the Queen's heels touching the floor. 

Then, the sounds stopped. A door opened and shut. Phoenix peered around the corner and noticed no one in the hallway, and muffled voices coming from behind a closed door.

Phoenix got close to hear the voices, but still far enough so she could walk away without being seen. Muddy imprints from a hefty boot laid outside the room. Perhaps a soldier from outside? 

"Please Amelia, you can't lose it… You know how important the Stone is… Give it back."

It was a man's voice, raspy, but Phoenix couldn't distinguish more than that. Maybe old? And he addressed the Queen by her first name, so if he was a solider, then he knew the Queen personally. An affair? Not with a member of the council, they would never have muddy shoes. 

"You're not going to change my mind. I've heard enough, I'm leaving. Don't follow me," the Queen said. 

Phoenix fled back the way she came, desperate to stay out of the Queen's sight. If Phoenix kept on following the Queen, then man from the room could pop out and catch her. 

It couldn't be an affair- the conversation was too tense and brief. 

As her mind churned, Phoenix roamed back to the small dining space, eager to see her family. Screw being secretive, she needed a second opinion. 

It was time for Phoenix to have a chat with her family.