Peter was competing in an annual tournament for sword-fighting. It wasn’t unusual for people in higher societal ranks to compete, many Dukes and their sons competed, but it was more unusual for two kings to compete at once. Him and Edmund, after three rounds of rock, paper, scissors, the two of them just both decided to compete together.

It was maybe a horrible idea, but they had fun.

What she didn’t realise, was how amazing Peter actually was at sword-fighting. She knew he was good—he was a king after all—but she didn’t realise that he was that skilled. He swung the blade with such grace, It was almost breath-taking.

He just won, and as much as she wanted to be down there with him, she was swept up by the crowds leaving the arena, and she had to wait outside for him instead.

His face appears around a corner, but his neck is drooped, sheathing his sword back in the scabbard. He looks up and grins, before he runs up to her, picks her up and spins her around. Her head spins, and he grins.

“Did you see me? Wasn’t I amazing?” He asks, his voice quick and rushed. Almost breathless. Setting her back on the ground carefully, resting his arms around her shoulders. “You looked so pretty up in the stands, princess.”

Brushing her hair out of her face, he leans down and kisses her forehead, then her nose, and her neck, under her ear. He pulls away, “So gorgeous, you are, princess, I’m not sure what good deeds I did to deserve you, but I’m forever grateful.”