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Momo pulled a face at the door as it closed, leaving her alone with the youngest prince. She scowled at the carved wood for a few seconds, then turned around to see Prince Shouto sitting in one of the armchairs and looking, well, expressionless. It was a bit unnerving.
“I don’t want to marry you.” she said bluntly, crossing her arms.
“I don’t want to marry you, either.” Prince Shouto said, his voice flat and disinterested. “But Father said we should, so I guess we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other the next few years.” he looked at her, and gestured to the chair across from his. “You can sit, you know.”
She sat in the indicated chair with a huff, drawing her fancy skirts forward. “I’d rather be home training.” she pouted.
“Magic or weapons?” Prince Shouto asked, tilting his head slightly.
“Both, either, anything but sitting around here.” she shrugged.
“I could show you where I train.” he offered, getting to his feet.
“Please.” Momo smiled, standing and following him- away from the door? She opened her mouth to ask where they were headed, and then he reached out and the wall swung open. She gasped, and Prince Shouto smiled, the first real expression she’d seen on him.
“This way.” he gestured for her to follow him, already starting down the narrow corridor. She hurried after him, the door swinging shut like it was weighted or charmed to do so, and cold magical lights flickered on overhead. She gathered her skirts close, and followed quietly on Prince Shouto’s heels.
“What are these for?” she asked, and he shrugged.
“Dunno. Found them a year or two ago, and nobody else is ever in them, so they’re my secret.” he paused, and she almost ran into him as he looked over his shoulder with an expression bordering on surprised. “Our secret now, I guess. You won’t tell anyone, will you?”
“Of course not, Your Highness.” Momo said quickly. “I’m quite good at keeping secrets.”
“That’s good.” Prince Shouto grinned, though she only caught a brief glimpse of it before he was on his way down the passage again. It didn’t take long at all for them to emerge into another room through another hidden door, and Momo couldn’t help but stare. There were targets, training dummies, a rack of weapons of all kinds, and several sets of leathers which were visibly battered but also visibly well cared-for.
“This is the coolest place I’ve ever seen.” she breathed, and Prince Shouto shrugged as he headed over to the weapons rack.
“It’s alright, I guess.” he picked up a simple but elegant wooden sword, one sized for his hand and no doubt perfectly balanced. Ice spread down the blade, forming a gleaming sharp edge as Momo approached the cuirasses. “What weapon does your father have you train with?” he asked as she lifted one, gauging its quality and finding it, unsurprisingly, top notch.
“A shortsword.” she said, picking up one of the smaller sets and sliding the cuirass on over her head. It was a smidge loose, but she wouldn’t be able to move freely in her fancy dress anyways. “When I’m bigger though, I want to use a hand-and-a-half.” she bunched her sleeves up to fit them under the vambraces, and after a moment decided to forego the pauldrons.
“This is the first time I’ve heard of a lady being trained in combat.” Prince Shouto remarked as she headed over to pick up one of the other small shortswords. “Where did your father find a tutor?”
“He didn’t.” Momo grinned, setting down the wooden practice weapon and turning to face Prince Shouto. “I watched the guards training, and made my own armour and sword, and when I refused to stop he gave up and let me train with the squires.”
“Made your own?” Prince Shouto’s eyebrows rose, and Momo nodded.
“Like this.” she pressed her hands together and visualised her sword, its blunt blade and textured hilt, its pommel decorated with her family’s crest. She pooled her energy in her left arm, and fed it out her palm as she drew her hands apart. The tip of the blade slid free of her skin silently, and she spun the weapon in her hand with ease. Perfect, as always. Prince Shouto gaped openly at her, and she shouldered her weapon with a grin.
“Never seen a blood-conjurer at work before?” she asked rhetorically. Of course he hadn’t, she was the first of her affinity to exist. And probably the last, since she had no intention of having children, betrothal to the prince or no.
“Never.” the prince shook his head. “Can you make other things, like a helm?”
“I could.” she admitted. “But then I wouldn’t have enough energy to spar with you.” she lifted her blade, and Prince Shouto took a step back as he lifted his own. Ice shimmered on his clothes, thick plates growing on the fine fabric in place of armour, and Momo smirked. Only time would tell his true nature, she’d seen boys not much older than herself turn lecherous with age, but if Prince Shouto was not like them... while their marriage would be loveless, perhaps it could still be happy.