Non-Heir (The Black Mage 0.5)(6)



“You don’t get better without adversity,” the girl declared.

Darren stuck his tongue out the second her father’s back was turned.

She kicked him in return.

It was the start of several long months.



The girl beat him every time, not that he didn’t try. The little boy had never tried harder in his life. Strike. Block. Strike. Block. But Eve’s blows were heavier than his.

Darren’s hands were blistered and shiny and red. The knight warned him not to let the nurse make a fuss. “If she gives you salves, you tell her no. A real soldier is proud of those ridges and bumps. They make him a man.”

When Sir Audric finally let them train without orders, their drills got harder. Trying to think up moves and guess the girl’s wasn’t easy. He found himself making simple mistakes because his mind was too busy trying to anticipate a move in the future.

It was three months after his seventh year that the boy could finally block the girl half the time. He wondered why he was never better until he saw her later that day practicing on her own. It was then he realized how he could better himself.

So the boy started to train in his rooms. The knight wouldn’t let him take the staff off the training grounds, so he just practiced the exercises. Lifting heavy objects helped. Running every chance he could strengthened his legs. Another couple of months and he could block almost all of her moves.

But never win.

It was another year and a half before the boy and the girl were equals. By the time Darren reached nine years of age, he was ready, and so was the girl.

When Sir Audric finally gave them their practice blades, it was the best day of both their lives.

The boy was so caught up in his new world that the Crown lessons his father had ordered hardly seemed worthy. What feat was there in sitting in a boring library with his brother when there were enemies to slay? Darren skipped a couple of lessons, leaving Blayne in the hands of the angry scholars so he could practice behind the Crown stables with his sword.

One of the guards found him a couple days later. Lucius was furious when he found out what his youngest had done. He told Darren he was disappointed, and when the boy readied himself for the monster, it took Blayne instead. The king informed him that would be his price.

“Every time you neglect your studies for your own amusement, you are neglecting your duty to the Crown,” the man said. “Your brother will be the one to pay the price. This is but a small taste of how you could affect his reign. Perhaps now you will think twice about playing the fool.”

The king dragged his twelve-year-old son by the arm and slammed the door shut in front of his youngest, locking Darren outside in the hall.

Blayne’s screams haunted him all night.

The boy swore never to make the same mistake again.

When the healers finally released his brother from the palace infirmary, there were dark circles underneath Blayne’s eyes. He wouldn’t even look at Darren as the boy apologized. It was then, for the first time, that Darren understood what being the monster’s heir meant.

There was no freedom from the Crown for its heir.



When the knight master found out about Darren’s antics with the tutors, he was in trouble. The master had him sit out of drills as Eve practiced by herself. Meanwhile, the knight spent all five hours lecturing him on the importance of his Crown lessons.

“What they have to show you is important,” the man declared. “Numbers and maps will tell you how to plan your soldiers’ battles. Crown policy will dictate how you honor your brother’s rule. Knowing your noble families will tell you which are most likely to stray from the Crown. Those studies of science are what the healers and apothecaries use to treat your men’s injuries. If you find yourself bleeding and alone, you will need to know what plant can save your life.”

“But why do I need to learn about the past?” the boy complained. “What good is it to learn about old battles and people who are dead?”

Sir Audric gave him a lofty look. He’d been doing that more and more often, in addition to addressing the prince by his name instead of his title as the rest of the palace court did. The boy liked that. “History repeats itself all the time, Darren. Your enemies know this, and if you do not, they will be able to anticipate your next move. As a commander, your mistakes will have more impact than the others, you need to make sure the ones you make are not ones that could have been prevented.”

“You are lucky,” the girl told him later, following him into the dining hall. It was a grand thing, swirling marble and giant tapestries with several long tables and lots of color. Darren hated it. The others always stared at him while they ate. “My father says you have the best tutors in the land. That it’s just you and your brother.”

“So?” Darren sat down at the far end of the Crown’s personal table. It was smaller than the rest. His father had a different room for private affairs and dinner, but the king preferred they take most meals with the rest of his court. Many of the highborn families had apartments inside the palace, after all, and a wise king kept his best men close, even if it meant putting his sons on display for the rest of the world.

Eve dropped down into the seat beside him. Darren watched her in amusement. In the last three years, the girl had grown comfortable with his stony silences and biting remarks. He supposed somewhere along the line they had become friends. What surprised him was he didn’t mind.

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