Winny’s POV:

“Alright, Mr. Gaskarth, what’s up next,” I asked Alex as we walked back inside through the front doors to the castle. My heels clicked loudly against the marble.

He looked down at the clipboard in his hands. “Well, it seems your schedule is open until dinner, Miss. Rothchester.”

“Very delightful.” I clapped my hands together in satisfaction and gave him a forced smile. “But it is actually Her Royal Highness, Princess of Dalewin, or Princess Aerowyn.”

“Well I’ll be damned,” he shook his head and scanned his document as if he had missed an important point, “I’ve got a princess on my hands.”

“A princess with a shitload of free time all of a sudden,” I snorted. My dad was getting ready to go on his tour and slowly but surely I was getting all these responsibilities that I had to take over now. There was no time for myself.

“What will she be doing with this time? Maybe some sowing or playing the piano?” Alex suggested in a horrible posh accent.

“Hmm, no… she thinks she’ll go out in the sun and play some tennis.” My high heels continued to echo in the hall as I started towards the stairs. “Oh, and she requests your presence.”

“My presence?”

“Yes, your presence.” I stopped to turn around and nod at him before stepping up the stairs. “I’m done talking in third person. See you outside at the tennis court in fifteen minutes.”

“Wait! I don’t know where the tennis court is!” He shouted out.

“Outside!”

I went up to my bedroom to get changed. My feet were more than glad to leave the cage that was my heels. I used to be able to wear them for ages without feeling a thing. It was like I had trained them. But New York has softened me in that aspect. Sneakers were my go to there for everyday attire. Heels weren’t exactly the best to paint in either.

Usually, I had somebody who would lay out the clothes I needed to get changed into, even if it was just getting into pajamas or changing out of formal clothes. The thing was, for somebody to do that, they would have to know. I was assuming that Alex hadn’t notified anybody. I only gave him fifteen minutes to meet me. Given how panicked he was about not knowing where the tennis court was, I guessed he wasn’t going to waste any time.

Not that I minded. I had gotten very used to doing things all by myself and I really enjoyed it. Privacy, who knew it was a thing?

I had a very nice generic tennis outfit to wear. Pretty sexist, if you asked me. You know, the white skirt, white t-shirt, white long socks, and white shoes. Oh, and don’t forget the white visor cap. Although... I was pretty thankful for that one, it was quite sunny outside.

I brought two rackets with me to the court. Alex wasn’t there yet. Granted, I was two minutes early, and he probably had more than just changing to do beforehand, but I still didn’t know what to do. Everything was already set up to my surprise. Two towels, two bottles of water, and even a sunshade with two chairs available.

I wandered around the court aimlessly, only holding my racket. It was in the position you’d expect a guitar or ukulele to be. Although it obviously wasn’t an instrument, I still let my nails rake against the strings as if I was. It made some awkward scratching noise. Nothing like a nice melody.

“Wow, you’re good at playing the guitar,” Alex said behind me, catching me off guard.

I turned around and smirked at him. “I am the lead singer of the world-famous band All Time Low!” I ‘strung’ the strings again dramatically. “The crowd goes wild!”

“Well, aren’t you funny.”

“I know, I’m hilarious,” I agreed and started holding my racket normally, pointing towards the right side of the net. “Your racket’s over there.”

He walked over and picked it up, twirling it around. “Thanks, but I must warn you, I have no idea how to play tennis.”

“You at least know how to hold it, right?”

“Yeah?” He nodded and clumsily put his hands around the handle.

I took a peek at his grip and sighed. “It’s good enough, let’s just play. Rules don’t matter. Yet.”

Alex went over to the otherside of the net as I went to grab a ball. I bent over and bounced it a few times before I got to serving. It always helped me focus on the ball and track it easier. When I looked back up at Alex, I saw him staring right at my but with a hint of amusement on his face.

“Ay!” I called him out and pointed my racket at him aggressively. “Disrespectful!”

“What?” He quickly redirected his eyes back to my face and held his hands up in defense.

“I’ve worked hard for this ass, it deserves to be appreciated, but I’m a princess. That’s the highest level of insult!”

Alex whistled lowly. “Well, I apologise.”

“You better!”

I served the ball, making it wizz across to Alex’s side. He was unprepared and jumped out of its way to avoid getting hurt. The funniest part was the weird yelp he let out as he noticed the ball was zooming right towards him. I couldn’t hold back my laughter.

“I wasn’t prepared!” He whined.

“That’s what they all say.”

I went easier on him afterwards. There was a fine line between messing with him and it being funny and messing with him until it turned into borderline bullying. I actually did need a partner to play with, even if he had no idea what he was doing. The ball went out more often than not and I was racking up points like it was nobody’s business. It was so bad that we had to get rid of the entire point system.

Technically, the game would have gone forever like that, but Augustus interrupted us by simply showing up.

“Somebody told me a pathetic match was being played.” He opened the gate and came sauntering in.

“Umm, excuse me,” I scoffed, “we’re just playing for fun.”

“You’ve just gone soft.”

“You wish!”

“I am feeling a competition coming on.” Alex slowly backed away over to the shade, “so I’m just going to take a break now.”

Augustus and I did not turn down the offer of playing against each other. It was one steamy dramatic game. There was one sport we played avidly in our family and that was tennis. Why? I don’t know. It wasn’t some prestigious sport, but our parents got us started early on. Technically, I had a 4 year headstart on Augustus, but I didn’t play back in New York.

We were going head to head. I would get a point, then Augustus would. It was a constant battle between who would break the tie. There was a heightened suspense all the way up until match point. It was all or nothing.

I served the ball, throwing it up high into the sky. It managed to go back and forth between us for quite a while. We both tried to trick the other, making us run all over. My heart was pumping so quickly. The beat of the ball hitting the ground was drumming in my ears. And then Augustus was the last one to hit it.

“Yes!” He screamed out.

“That was out.” I shook my head.

“No it was not.”

“Umm, yes it was.”

“You’re just a sore loser,” he mocked.

I crossed my arms and gave him a disappointed look. “Am I? Am I really, Gus-Gus?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then, why don’t you just let me win if you’re the better loser?” I challenged, to which he looked at me with wide mad eyes. “Maybe you are the sorer loser.”

“No, no, no, you aren’t tricking me! I’d win this easily whether or not that point was given to me.”

“So you’d be down to ignore that point and redo?”

“Umm, yes.” He rolled his eyes as if it was the obvious answer.

I put my hands on my hips and turned to Alex in one swift jump. “You wanna play the winner?”

“I think I’m good,” Alex declined with a small wave of his hand. “Watching you is entertainment enough.”

“We’ll see about that.”

I reserved the ball and the game started again. Augustus was so focused, I could just see it. He kept his eyes on the ball. It was like a puppy following a treat. Part of me wanted to let him win. But what was the fun in that? I couldn’t simply do that. He was the one that agreed to a redo.

I swung harder than I had the entire game, causing the ball to zoom right past the end of Augustus’ racket. It loudly slammed into the metal fence behind him, stopping the ball from rolling down into the gardens, and bounced back towards us.

“What. The. Fuck.” Augustus panned his eyes from the ball to me with his mouth open wide.

I shrugged and gave him a smile. “I was holding back the entire time, sorry.”

“That’s unfair!” He whined and kicked the tennis ball. “You tricked me!”

“It’s all about making your opponent think they have a chance and then swooping in for the kill, Gus-Gus. You should know that by now.”

He repeated my last sentence in a high pitched mocking voice.

“Who’s the sore loser now.”

He glared at me. I had learned to deal with losing, Augustus hadn’t that much. He was more taught to deal with it the same way all kids were. Just told to get over it. I was drilled about it. You can’t have some butthurt queen, can you?

“It’s okay, though,” I decided to cheer him up a little, “you’ll always be better at sparring.”

“I fucking destroy you in that,” he emphasised.

“Okay, now don’t go murdering me in my sleep like some power hungry second born,” I told him sternly while simultaneously brushing him off. I had something much more important to ask Alex. “Wanna play again?”

“Umm,” he frowned with uncertainty.

“We can play as a team against Augustus.”

“I will most definitely make you lose.”

“Why do you think I just got myself a win?”

Alex couldn’t continue to argue with me. I knew he secretly liked playing, so he didn’t need that much convincing. He may have been trying to hide it, but I saw that he was having fun while it was just the two of us playing.

So, we started a new match. The plan was for me and Alex to switch position occasionally, while Augustus just did as he usually would do by himself. I started out in the front and Alex started in the back. Alex was right, we were losing by a lot. The ball would often hit in his zone, and he wouldn’t be able to reach it fast enough. But it didn’t matter.

The longer we played, though, the more focused I got. Good thing for a normal game, not so good when I wasn’t really properly playing in teams. Usually, it would work out perfectly. But, with Alex, it was just a bit all over the place. The ball was flying towards the other side of our half of the court. I rushed towards it, but rather than my racket colliding with the ball, it was my body that collided with Alex’s. I tripped over and found myself on the floor.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry!” Alex quickly apologised.

I just laughed and rolled over on my back. “That was all me.”

“Everything good? No broken bones?” He immediately started worrying.

“I’m all good,” I continued to giggle and sat up, brushing off all the sand on me. “Calm your tits.”

“I’d love to, but if you get hurt, it’s on me.”

“Live a little, Gaskarth.” I slapped his leg and stood back up.

Notes