Pressure test

Just go to sleep. Just sleep. I told my brain, lying on my bed with my eyes pressed closed. 

No. It replied annoyingly, buzzing with thoughts and awakeness. I rolled over, once, twice. 

Maybe it was something else. Grumbling, I turned my pillow, keeping my eyes closed. I kicked off the blanket. 

Now it was too cold. Fumbling in the dark, I pulled the blanket back up. Too hot. 

My eyes accidentally opened and I swore under my breath. Why now? Right before the big meeting tomorrow morning. 

When I showed up half dead and totally useless, everyone should share those stupid looks. And the murmurs, and smug smiles. 

I stopped pretending to sleep and sat up. 

No matter what I did, they'd have those stupid looks anyways. The ones that said, "Who does he think he's fooling, he's nothing like his father." Or, "Oh, look, here comes his Royal Incompetence." Over the top, respectful titles with a condescending tone thickly laid on top. 

I couldn't even complain about it. Hansa said I should just fire anybody who made fun of me. And the one, the one time I told General Estefan Hamid about it, he said, "If you spent as much time training as you did whining, you'd be able to shut everyone up."

Even now, three years later, that comment stung.

I threw on some random clothes, it wasn't like there was anybody to impress this late at night. 

The training arenas would be mercifully deserted, so I didn't have to make every move under the eyes of a thousand spectators. All judging whether I was their king or some incapable loser. 

I stopped to drink from a fountain before pushing open the double doors.

Instantly, I was blinded. Somebody, some moron no doubt, had left every single light on.

Blinking rapidly, I slowly squinted into the arena. There were sounds of thudding and I shielded my eyes, spotting someone at the punching bag.

Why was there someone here at 2 in the morning? 

"Don't you need your beauty sleep?"

My eyes finally started working and I stared back at the General's recently found daughter. His murderous, assassinating, crazy daughter.

Mazarin smirked, pushing sweaty hair out of her face as she continued hitting the bag. Over and over, each hit sure and hard.

"Why are you here?" I asked, warily. I thought she was only allowed in the General's quarters or her cell. 

She stopped, panting a little. "Why are you here?" Mazarin stretched for a second, looking back at me challengingly.

"Couldn't sleep. You?" I didn't know whether to be polite even. She'd technically murdered my citizens, but strangely I couldn't care that much about people I'd never met. Just another sign of my unworthiness to lead.

"I needed a break from house arrest, and I figured nobody would be here right now." Mazarin shrugged, then started whaling at the punching bag again.

I wondered how a king would act around a recovered assassin. I nodded, studying her appearance. Back when we'd first met, she'd been a masked, unstoppable killing machine. All muscle and brightness. 

I remembered punching that stupid mask off her face, then recoiling from a crazed smile, blown-out pupils-

"Something on my face?" Mazarin asked, interrupting the thoughts that made my blood run cold.

"You're different," I replied accidentally, forgetting every element of my training. What the fuck is wrong with you David?

She quirked an eyebrow, clearly waiting for an explanation.

"You aren't as...crazy anymore." I waved a hand. "And you look worse." Now, I waited to be murdered.

"Wow, I bet you make all the girls swoon." Mazarin laughed, and without an answer, she went back to pummeling her punching bag.

I decided to end the conversation there before I ended up spilling state secrets or something. For a little while, I practiced with my sword, swinging and slicing. Turning it in my hand over and over until my palm burned.

Then I hacked at the dummies, and the sounds overlapped: the flat thuds of Mazarin's kicking and punching, and the air getting sliced and the dummy whacked.

I started by thinking of specific things that made me angry, then I was just beating the stuffing out of the dummy with unfiltered rage. 

It was ages before I noticed Mazarin watching, sipping from a cup, and lounging on a bench near me.

I decided to stop and narrowed my eyes at her. "What? Is my form wrong or something?"

"Flattered you think I'm an authority on the matter, but no, I'm just taking a break." Mazarin drawled, stretching on the bench.

My memories went to Archan, the blood-soaked battlefield where Mazarin cut through soldier after soldier, moving with lightning speed. She was merciless, unstoppable, stabbing, parrying, and slicing quicker than the eyes could follow. 

"Don't sell yourself short, you cut through two legions of soldiers." I stopped myself from adding, our soldiers. You killed my men, people who you should've protected. You set us back in the war effort. 

Mazarin looked away, her jaw clenching.

A few moments of tense silence passed. It was jarring how much like the General she was.

"Listen, I'm getting bored. You wanna spar?" I asked, rolling a shoulder. Whatever. A roll of recklessness swept through me. I'd hate myself in the morning, she could kill me now and spare me.  

Surprise etched itself into the assassin's face. "Not scared I'll murder you, your highness?"

"You'd be doing my councilors a favour," I answered, amused when she laughed.

"Fine." She circled her way onto the mat, eyes colder than an icy lake.

Screw it. I shot out first, swinging a hook at her head.

She grabbed my arm and ducked, turning with my motion to slam me into the ground.

Within a second, I lashed out, sweeping out her legs.

The assassin fell and rolled back up, her arms raised in front of her.

I scrambled back up, and before I could do anything else, rapid-fire jabs hit my head, chest, stomach.

I turned away from the barrage flanking her and kicking.

She responded effortlessly, pulling my leg into my body and bringing her forearm down on the side of my leg.

We crashed onto the mats and she got up to attack.

My mind took me back to that day. In the enemy's palace, this murderous psychopath hunting us down. The same eyes, just more fiery, the only thing I could see as she strangled me.

I kicked, catching her in the chest, harder than I'd planned.

Mazarin shuffled back but didn't strike again. She watched me, curiosity crinkling her eyes. 

I realized angrily that she was going easy on me. "What?" I snapped, getting up.

"We've fought before." She said questioningly and I stared at her, breathless with anger and shock.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Yeah, we fought before, you almost killed Hansa and me. You- what do you mean?" I exhaled twice, trying to get my voice under control.

"I don't remember, exactly. I was really high at the time." Mazarin stayed a careful distance away. "They gave me these pills. I don't remember things right unless they were..."

I stopped listening, remembering that creature. Nothing slowed her down, not a knife in the side, not punches. I'd been gasping for air after running, every muscle in my body on fire with agony.

"You don't remember," I repeated. Lucky her, some of us actually had to deal with the consequences of her actions.

"Yeah. I mean, I remember mostly everything, but when I was really on the pills it's kind of hazy." Mazarin rambled, then exhaled sharply. I recognized the breathing technique the General had taught me.

Jealousy twinged a little. Hamid had been a replacement father, forced to look beyond my mistakes, train me. He'd seen me at my most embarrassing. And now he had his kid back. 

He'd be used to disappointment by now. 

"I'm sorry." She said finally. "That sounds like shit, even to me, but I mean it. I didn't mean to do-I thought I was on their side. I'm sorry for everything I did."

"You know, when I first met you, I thought you weren't human," I said, tired and angry. "You were some ridiculously fast, well-trained, powerful murderer. You know that? You terrified our soldiers, you terrified Hansa. And when I did get to see beyond your mask, you just smiled."

Mazarin looked disturbed.

"I know it's not technically your fault. I know you were brainwashed, but that's why everyone's so...we're trying, you know?"

She stared back at me, and I looked back, out of things to say. Why the hell did we always end up staring at each other like a couple of idiots?

"Good thing I didn't kill you tonight then. I would've had to earn everyone's trust all over again." Mazarin said, smiling a little and I scoffed.

"You're so messed up." I shook my head. "And nothing like the General, like at all."

"He's just my father biologically." She replied, and I sensed the same unspeakable bitterness in her voice too.

"I get that." Nobody heard my name without telling me how amazing my father had been.

"Oh?" Mazarin challenged, tilting her head.

"Everyone thinks I'm like my father. The King. He's dead, and I'm not, and everyone's waiting for some long-lost brother to show up, to be way more competent and prince-like."

Mazarin snorted with laughter and I glared.

"Oh, sorry, my mistake sharing anything about me," I growled, irritated that I'd made myself look weak. After she'd kicked my ass and seen me freak out. 

"No, I'm sorry, c'mon." She raised her hands placatingly, still smiling. "It's weird, I thought you were some spoiled, lazy, useless-"

"Thanks, it's really boosting my self-esteem."

"-would you kindly shut up, your highness?" Mazarin smiled sharply and I waited, gesturing impatiently. "And you're not those things. You're not completely useless, and you're a decent fighter."

Just when I started getting too comfortable, she said.

"But you're a complete dumbass. I mean, I'm a trained assassin. I could've killed you right here-"

"Oh shut up-"

"-gone back to the other side a hero-" Mazarin ranted, smiling uncontrollably. 

"-I was going easy on you, you absolute prat!" I shouted, and she stopped, rolling her eyes.

We were both quiet again, which made me unreasonably annoyed.

"Do you want to spar again?" Mazarin asked, sounding bored. "I am supposed to be training right now."

"Oh, sorry, am I distracting you? Am I staring into your soul with giant brown eyes as you try and practice?" I asked mockingly, widening my eyes to match hers. 

"I think I preferred you when you were scared of me." Mazarin sneered and I circled threateningly. 

"Try shutting up, you were way scarier then." 

"You're lucky I can't murder you, your highness." She scoffed and I grinned, ducking as she swung at me.