Chapter 435: Friends, Apparently
Chapter 435: Friends, Apparently
"Come on, Sammy," came a chirpy response from a deceptively sweet voice. "Why such a cold greeting for such old friends?"
I didn’t even get to roll my eyes as a young woman dropped right next to me, crossing her legs. I cheated a glance at her.
Princess Alice was dressed in black boot-cut trousers paired with a crisp white blouse, sleeveless cuts that put her lean but muscular arms on display.
Her fiery red hair was a work of art all on its own. A neat center part split it evenly before it flowed into twin Dutch braids that hugged her scalp, winding into small braided buns behind each ear. From those buns spilled a cascade of even more braids, these much thinner and reaching well past her shoulders, swaying whenever she moved.
The style would’ve looked excessive on anyone else.
Alice, however, pulled it off like the princess she was supposed to be.
A pair of classy sapphire earrings dangled down her lobes and several gold chains rested lazily around her neck, understated enough not to compete for attention.
Everything about her was picturesque royal elegance.
Everything except the expression on her face.
She was beaming unabashedly.
Unlike her, Alice’s twin brother was practically swathed in Central fashion.
He stepped into view a beat later, wearing a midnight-blue duster coat with a furred collar and silver piping that perfectly matched the royal crest pinned to his lapel. Plenty of jeweled rings on his fingers and ornate buttons running down his vest.
His virulent red hair was cropped short and neat, his features sharp. And just like his twin sister, there was an amused glint in Willem’s matching ruby eyes.
"Nice to see you made it out alive," he said as he sat down on the adjacent couch. "But it really broke our hearts when you didn’t even come to say hello."
I rolled my eyes at their dramatics and got up, stalking to the glass wall and peering down at the arena. Marcus was now in an advantageous position, having pushed Sylvia to her absolute limits.
I kept my eyes fixed on the match even as I addressed the royals. "Why are you both here?"
Of course, I already knew the answer.
"A little birdie told us some interesting things," In the faint reflection of the one-way tinted glass, I could see Alice slightly pouting at the fact I didn’t rise to the bait. "Care to guess what I’m talking about?"
She got the recording.
"I don’t play guessing games with my sister’s lackeys," I told her, my tone flat and face blank.
"Lackeys?" Willem echoed the word like I had made a joke, leaning back to rest an ankle over his knee. "You continue to wound me."
"Well, what else should I call you guys?" I said, scoffing loudly. "You two practically orbit her. Wherever she goes, you’re already waiting with tea. Don’t you guys even live with her? I’m surprised she doesn’t charge you rent. And now, she sent you here to confront me instead of coming by herself."
The Crown Princess gasped, one hand flying to her chest. "Sammy! That is an outrageous accusation."
"It is," Willem agreed solemnly. "We don’t drink tea that often."
I snorted. "So you admit the rest."
"Naturally." Alice smiled, not the slightest hint of shame anywhere. "It’s called being friends. And she’s not here because she has a match."
Oh, I knew all about her match alright — part of the reason why I was here. It was going to be the main event of the night.
I didn’t ask Alice how she knew where to find me.
I was aware the camera drones had caught my entry into the executive wing. They even replayed my arrival on the big screen a few times like I was some celebrity.
"Friends," I snickered, making a show of shaking my head. "Sure."
"Yes, Sammy, friends," Alice pressed, her amusement chipping away a bit. "You know, like what we were once before you became this performative jerk you are now. I’m really happy that you grew up and found your spine, but I swear to the Monarchs—"
I physically flinched at her words, indignant, turning to face her before she could go on spouting whatever fallacious nostalgic garbage she was manufacturing on the fly. "What?! Friends? We? Are you out of your royal mind?! And, sure, I’m the jerk!"
Alice’s false smile faltered completely as I cut her off, ruby eyes narrowing sharply. There was a thoughtful look on her face before, "You know... I’m starting to think you never even saw us as friends."
I wanted to smack my face. "Oh, look at that! The Princess finally cracked the code! Give the lady a prize! Gold stars all around!" I barked. "No, seriously, are you out of your mind? You used to push me to the ground and shove snow in me! Why the fuck would you think we were friends?!"
The red-haired young woman looked so genuinely confused that for a second I thought she was going to ask for a medical team to check my head.
"Sammy, that’s what you’ve been angry about all this time?!" She threw her hands up, half defensive and half stumped. "We were kids! We were just playing! And I remember you used to laugh with us. Why didn’t you ever speak up if it bothered you so much?"
"Yeah, and I brought you hot cocoa every single time to make sure you weren’t cold," Willem chimed in from the couch, his eyes also full of earnest bewilderment. "I even stole these premium marshmallows from the royal pantry for you once. The ones shaped like little shooting stars. You ate the whole bag and said you were fine!"
I stared at the two of them, my jaw unhinged.
"Obviously I’d say that, you morons! If I had cried, you would’ve bullied me more!" I pointed at Alice, who seemed like she wanted to speak, but I didn’t let her. "You used to call that game ’Capture the Weakling.’ You used to tell me weaklings get punished! What part of any of this sounds like healthy, childhood camaraderie?!"
Alice and Willem exchanged a long look. The royals of Central, the absolute peak of the incoming generation, looked like two kids who had just been told Santa Claus was a tax evader.
"But..." Alice started, her voice actually dropping its melodic cadence for a second. "But you were the weakling, Sammy. We were trying to build your character. Your father told us you were getting soft in the capital..."
"My father is a sociopath!" I squeezed my fists in the air like I was choking someone invisible. "Of course he told you to throw me in a snowbank! He would’ve supplied the snow himself! On god, the two of you have the emotional intelligence of a brick wall."
Willem rubbed the back of his short-cropped red hair, a rare look of sheepishness crossing his handsome features. "Okay... looking back, maybe ’Capture the Weakling’ was a poorly named game. But we honestly thought you enjoyed being with us, man. Why do you think we were so pissed when you started ignoring our texts? And when we took the initiative to meet you after getting into Apex, you acted like an insufferable, dramatic snob."
"I was ignoring your texts because you both are assholes!" I shot back. "And I acted like a snob because the last time I saw you two, you were trying to see if my body could function as a human bobsled!"
Alice slumped back against the leather cushions, her Dutch braids oscillating as she shook her head in disbelief. "A bobsled? Sammy, it was a gentle hill! And Will was standing at the bottom to catch you!"
"I... missed," Willem muttered under his breath, suddenly becoming intensely interested in looking anywhere but my eyes. "The traction on those boots of mine was terrible that winter."
"See?!" I yelled, throwing an accusing finger at the prince. "He missed! I hit a frozen oak tree, Alice! I saw my dead grandmother for three seconds before I blacked out!"
The Crown Princess buried her face in her hands, a muffled, deeply frustrated groan escaping her. "Oh my gods. We really are assholes. Will, we are terrible people."
"Talk about yourself," Willem mumbled, averting his gaze. "I at least gave him cocoa."
•••
The long silence in the aftermath of our conversation was extremely awkward to sit through. Alice kept groaning into her hands and Willem continued to fidget in his chair.
If I didn’t dislike them so much, I’d have felt bad for them.
They looked like a pair of scolded highborn puppies.
The fight below in the arena ended soon. The guy, Marcus, prevailed victorious in a blaze of cheers and a shower of colorful confetti. He won by knockout.
The other combatant, his opponent Sylvia, was carried out on a stretcher with multiple healers attending to her dislocated jaw.
It was a bloody sight that the broadcasting crew covered up by cutting to a sponsored commercial break.
In that time, the cleanup crew quickly rushed out.
Mechanical droids and human workers labored in tandem to reshape the gouged-out concrete of the arena floor, scrub away the dried streaks of blood, and reset the barrier wards for the next bout.