`·. There came a knock on the door. Kiran got off her bed, the hem of her nightgown swishing at her feet.
The door opened to reveal Ephraim, the crown prince of Renais.
"Prince Ephraim! What are you doing here?" Kiran exclaimed, clearly startled by his appearance. "It's nearly midnight, milord. You should be resting."
"May I come in?" Ephraim asked. "Princess Shareena informed me that you wanted a sparring partner. Be assured that I am a cut above the rest."
Kiran blinked. It was true that she had mentioned wanting to learn to fight, but she hadn't expected Shareena to take action so quickly. "Milord, perhaps we should reschedule training for another day? It's late, and I don't think I have the energy right this moment."
"Kiran, was it?" Ephraim raised his eyebrows in amusement. The faintest hint of a smirk tugged at his lips. "You really are inexperienced, aren't you?"
Ephraim took a step into the room.
"Don't you know that the midnight hours are the best hours for these lessons?"
"I don't understand..." Kiran words trailed off as Ephraim began to slide off his shirt. "...Oh, fuck."
--
"Okay." Kiran started panicking at the scene unraveling before her. "Ephraim, this isn't what I meant when I said that!"
"I like it when you call me 'milord'," Ephraim said quietly. "I noticed that you don't use the same honorifics with the other lords. Tell me, why is that?"
Kiran backed away as Ephraim drew closer. His shirt now lay crumpled on the floor. He gripped a lance in his hand, and tied to the end of the weapon was a long trail of rope.
Despite the tense situation, Kiran couldn't help but notice his toned physique. His taut muscles and broad shoulders certainly fit the image of royalty, but there were scars as well. Numerous scars, some faded with time and others more recent, marked his body.
She had heard stories from other Heroes about Ephraim's passion for fighting. He was one of the few who enjoyed the thrill of the struggle and the surge of excitement that came with emerging as the victor.
There was no way he was simply going to let her walk away.
"Sparring is the best way to get to know each other," stated Ephraim. He stared at her blankly. "So let's cut to the chase."
Just when Kiran thought she had dodged a bullet with Alfonse, this had to happen.
"Not again..."
They circled each other around the room, locked in a game of cat and mouse. It was more like snake and mouse; Kiran knew the man was a warrior before he was a prince.
Breidablik was her only hope.
He seemed to read her mind.
Before she could reach for the weapon on her nightstand, Ephraim hurled his lance at it. The lance knocked Breidablik onto the floor; it bounced off, sliding to the far corner of the room.
Kiran made a dash for the weapon, but Ephraim skillfully maneuvered to block her. She felt the rope circle around her legs. He jerked the rope back forcefully.
Thump!
He wrangled her to the floor.
Ephraim hiked up her nightgown and began to loop the rope around her ankles, holding her down by the forearm. She couldn't believe this was happening.
"Hey, I don't want to meet the tip of your lance!" Kiran exclaimed. "I'm really fine!"
Ephraim's gaze was unreadable.
"It won't only be the tip," he murmured softly. "I hope you're ready for this bound hero battle, Kiran."
Kiran gritted her teeth and closed her eyes in frustration.
"I'm going to kill Shareena!!!"
--
Fortunately, Kiran was the tactician in the Order of Heroes for a reason. Brute strength was not her forte, but she had other tricks hidden up her sleeve.
“Prince Ephraim, I asked you nicely to release me," she said icily. "I tried reasoning with you, but now I see that we’re beyond that point.”
She snatched the comforter off her bed and flung it over the head of the green-haired prince.
He dropped his grip on the rope to catch the covers, giving Kiran a split second to outstretch her hands, palms open, towards Breidablik.
A glowing white light appeared. In a flash, the weapon materialized into her grasp.
“Are all men in this kingdom so... improper?” Kiran muttered to herself.
She aimed the gun and fired.
Orbs of light shot out, engulfing the room in a red glow. The bright blinded them both, until the slender silhouette of a woman slowly emerged from the smoke. An elegant, gentle voice spoke up.
"My name is Eirika. I'm not fond of fighting, but..."
The woman suddenly trailed off mid-sentence. Her eyes widened at the scene before her. Her eyes darted from the woman lying on the floor, to the half-naked man standing before her.
"I-I'm so glad to see you!" Kiran nearly cried tears of happiness. There was no better Hero that could have been summoned at this moment. "Please, talk some sense into your brother!"
Eirika put her hands on her hips.
"Brother! What is the meaning of this?"
"Oh, Eirika. It's you." If Ephraim was taken aback by the sudden development, he didn't show it. "I was just sparring with this world's tactician."
"What sort of man enters a woman's chambers and wants to spar while she's in her nightgown?" Eirika roared. "And at this hour, of all times?"
"Kiran must be ready for anything," Ephraim responded. "She must learn how to defend herself, for her sake and the sake of the Askran kingdom."
"Oh, no more of that," Eirika scolded. "Leave the tactician alone!"
"In battle, the enemy will not let her off so easily. She is a woman, and so are you... Or do you not remember what happened with Valter?"
The room fell silent. Eirika's brow furrowed instantly.
"Brother, you are starting to anger me. I want you out of this room, this instant!"
She brandished her rapier and waved it in her brother's face.
"Don't test me, brother," she warned. "I cannot allow this!"
"Forgive me, I did not mean to do anything you would find unpleasant." Ephraim sighed, giving into his sister's wishes. "However, are you sure you don't wish to join us?"
"What? No! I mean, look..." Eirika fumbled with her words, turning to Kiran in confusion. "Summoner, what is going on here? Are you really sparring?"
Kiran sat up and shrugged, still tangled in the rope that Ephraim had knotted around her.
"Blast if I know," she blurted. "Look, can someone untie me? Please?"
The princess knelt down and loosened the ropes around Kiran's legs. The rough material had cut into her flesh, leaving unsightly red marks.
"Are you all right?" Eirika asked. She ran a gloved hand over the marks. "You must not be used to this type of treatment. Please do not overextend yourself."
Eirika was staring at her intently. Kiran beamed at the other girl, suddenly feeling very shy.
"You're really kind, lady Eirika..."
--
After Ephraim took his leave, Kiran sat Eirika down on a chair in front of her dressing table. At first, Eirika had insisted on leaving, but as she was a newly arrived hero, there wasn't a room adequately prepared for her.
Eirika’s shoulders tensed slightly as Kiran’s hands moved to assist with unbuckling the golden chest plate she wore over her red blouse.
Eirika smiled and relaxed into the other girl's arms.
“He’s not the most sensitive person, I'll admit. But he means well. I'm sure he meant no harm by what he did." Eirika paused. "Although I am curious, how did you manage to summon me here? I thought Heroes could only be summoned at the ancient ruins."
Picking up a hairbrush, Kiran took a lock of Eirika's long green tresses and began brushing the princess's hair.
"I've been studying the old scriptures," she said. "Normally, summoning can only be done at the ruins. But I've discovered that whenever I am in danger, Breidablik can sense this, and I can use magic to summon one Hero to my aid."
"It must be difficult, not to be able to fight," Eirika sighed. "I can teach you if you'd like? I'm still learning, myself, but I've been training for years with Seth and my brother."
"I would very much like that, Lady Eirika. Now, shall we get some rest?"
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Behave yourself, now. ;)