As the heavy velvet curtain of the carriage was pulled aside, Prince Ezekiel stepped out into the cool night air. A slow, arrogant smirk played on his lips as his eyes raked over Zen.
"May I ask," Ezekiel began, his voice smooth but laced with a dangerous edge, "where a lone girl is heading in such a treacherous forest in the dead of night? Judging by your attire, you look like a warrior. Tell me, which kingdom do you serve?"
Zen clenched her jaw. Okay, Zen, she warned herself, taking a slow, calming breath. It's a simple question. There is no reason to lose your temper. Keep your calm and answer him politely.
Steeling her expression, she looked at him and spoke in a measured tone. "Prince Ezekiel, I am simply on my way to visit a relative. And I do not work for any kingdom."
Ezekiel's eyes narrowed slightly, his smirk fading into curiosity. "And how do you know my name?"
If this arrogant fool keeps asking such absurd questions, anyone would lose their temper, Zen thought, her frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. Forcing a polite smile, she pointed toward his entourage.
"Your carriage bears the emblem of the golden eagle, which belongs exclusively to the Supreme Kingdom," Zen replied, her voice growing sharper. "And your attire is unmistakably that of a prince. Now, if you will excuse me, I must leave."
She turned to walk back to her horse, but Ezekiel's voice halted her like a whip. "Stop. You cannot leave just yet. Tell me, which kingdom are you from, and what is your name?"
Zen stopped in her tracks and turned back, her patience officially evaporated. "I will not tell you the name of my kingdom, nor will I give you my name."
The air in the forest suddenly grew heavy. Ezekiel stepped closer, his expression darkening. "Did you just refuse me? Do you have any idea that defying me is a crime? I could execute you right here for such insolence."
Zen stared at him, unfazed. "No, I did not know that. I was unaware that simply saying 'no' had become a capital offense."
"I despise people who do not know how to speak with proper etiquette the most," Ezekiel hissed.
"Then you must hate yourself quite a lot," Zen shot back instantly, crossing her arms. "Because looking at you, it seems you lack any shred of manners yourself. I politely gave your men the directions to the Royal Pavilion Camps, and yet, you insist on harassing me."
Ezekiel's gaze drifted away from Zen and landed on her horse. It was a magnificent creature, with a coat as dark as the midnight sky. Intrigued, the Prince walked over to the beast and began to stroke its powerful neck. "What a beautiful horse you have here."
"His name is Roar," Zen growled, her hand resting on the hilt of her blade. "Take your hands off him."
Ezekiel let out a mocking laugh. "I only put my hand on him, and you are already this furious?" Moving with deliberate, agonizing slowness, Ezekiel drew his sharp, polished sword. "Tell me... if I were to rest the cold edge of this blade against his throat, just how angry would you get?"
In the blink of an eye, Zen's blade was out. The tip of her sword stopped mere millimeters from Ezekiel's face, catching the pale moonlight.
"Don't you dare think about hurting Roar," Zen whispered, her voice deadly calm.
Instantly, the surrounding ring of Supreme Kingdom soldiers drew their weapons, moving into attacking positions. But Ezekiel simply raised a hand, looking his men dead in the eye and signaling them to stand down. They reluctantly sheathed their swords.
Ezekiel looked back at Zen, a dark amusement dancing in his eyes. "If you had just answered my questions properly, it wouldn't have come to this."
With a casual flick of his wrist, Ezekiel used his own blade to push Zen's sword downward. But as his steel slid against hers, his gaze caught something etched into the metal of her blade.
An intricate star symbol was carved near the hilt.
Ezekiel's expression shifted instantly from amusement to absolute shock. In a blur of blinding speed, he vanished from her line of sight and reappeared directly behind her. Zen barely had time to register his movement before the cold steel of his sword was swinging violently toward her neck.
Acting purely on instinct, Zen whipped her blade around, catching his sword just in time. The sound of steel clashing against steel rang violently through the dark woods.
Zen's heart hammered against her ribs. He is impossibly fast, she thought, a cold sweat breaking on her forehead. If I had been even a fraction of a second slower, I would be dead right now.
They stood locked in a stalemate. Ezekiel was behind her, his sword pressed hard against hers, inches from her throat.
"I didn't think you would resort to a sneak attack," Zen said, her voice eerily calm despite the blade at her neck.
"And I didn't think I would find a royal warrior in the middle of nowhere," Ezekiel replied, breathing heavily from the exertion. "But when I saw that star symbol on your blade, I couldn't stop myself. That specific star is only granted to master swordsmen of royal blood. Just like the star on my own blade."
Ezekiel pressed his sword a little harder against hers. "The way you blocked my strike proves you are a master. And that blade proves you are royalty. So, you have two options now. Option one: you tell me your name and where you are from. Or option two: you choose to fight me and die."
Zen used all her strength to push Ezekiel's blade away from her neck. She spun around to face him fully, her own sword held high.
"I would much prefer to fight you and kill you," Zen said, her voice dripping with ice. "But unfortunately, I cannot do that. If my father finds out, he will be furious with me. So, I will give you my name."
She lowered her blade slightly, staring dead into the eyes of the enemy prince.
"I am Zen Edward. The Little Princess of Royal Ford."