Except for Lord Nelton Rawn, the younger brother of Lady Cannon. Like his sister he was a fashion plate, layering a pale blue tunic over a dark blue one. His pale blonde hair sticking to his head in sweaty clumps. He hadn’t factored in the overhead sun when he’d planned his afternoon outfit, as he turned his attention to Alia’s ball. Damn it, not again.
Thankfully Lord Nelton’s hands were also sweaty, so his aim was a little off. Merely sending Alia’s ball spinning past the goal in this section, coming to rest unfortunately right up against a large block of black marble. Of course, Lord Nelton made insincere apologies whilst his sister and the rest of their group snickered behind their hands, unable to hide smug telling smiles.
The foursome sharing a confused look when Alia gifted Lord Nelton a cheerful smile of thanks before stepping over several clusters of obstacles to line up her ball. They had assumed she likewise wanted to loiter here, but they couldn’t be more wrong. Alia staring down at her ball, considering her options. There was no rule as to how the goal could be achieved, front or back. It was just with her ball snuggled up tightly against the large marble block, she had very limited choices to make.
Just about to take her turn, Lord Nelton’s voice sounded. “Hold… incoming.”
Thwack. Followed by the sound of rocks breaking. Alia’s gaze lifting, watching as a red quarry ball slammed its way into this sextant. Whose? Oh. The Prince. Nearby bosoms heaving, lashes fluttering up a gale.
And here Talac came, striding over the maze blocks like a conquering hero, the barest of smiles tugging up one corner of his mouth. Alia remembered that slight smile from their sword challenge bout. Something stirring and heating low in her gut in response. Determinedly she pushed it aside. Perri. Levi. Regal. No time for games… except for the one she was actually playing.
Lining up her shot again, Alia smacked the block of marble as hard as she could, taking the top off it, her long hammer hitting her ball and sending it hurtling through the goal backwards, only stopping when it smacked loudly into a red ball. Sending that ball careening off to hit several maze blocks, before it came to rest directly behind one of them.
The ladies gasped. The lords snickered. Alia had just knocked the Prince’s ball into the nearest maze. The audacity. She should be apologising. At the very least declaring her hit a foul so the Prince could reset his ball to its original position. Never. Alia’s defiant smirk fleeting, but she was sure Talac caught it, before she turned her attention back to the game, hurrying along the players.
Talac managed to get out of the deepest part of the maze with his next shot but Alia barely acknowledged his progress. With her next turn she performed a scooping shot, sending her ball up and over into the next sextant. Not looking back, she hopped over the boundary blocks, joining the next group of players.
It took Alia three hits to get her ball lined up for the next goal. Mainly because she had to factor in the other players constantly interfering with her set ups. Using the maze of obstacles to her advantage, Alia was about to take her fourth hit when the instruction came to hold play. And once more a red ball rolled into view, this time stopping only inches away from her own ball.
“Mind your toes there. Lady Alia.”
“Your Highness.” She couldn’t not acknowledge him. Turning away quickly to line up her ball again. No time for niceties. She had a game to win. Unfortunately, she’d failed to factor in one thing when she’d hatched her plan. How very competitive Talac could be.
She’d just pulled back her hammer mallet and was about to follow through when he whispered just for her ears. “So, you think I’m a stallion?”
Whack. Her hammer only made the barest of contact with her ball. Sending it rolling off to the left of the goal. Damn. She turned to give the Prince a piece of her mind, but he was already taking his turn. His ball sailing through the goal.
Why that… that. Grrr. Alia’s toe tapped as she waited for her turn. Gifting one of the male players such a scowl when he lined up his ball to hit hers that he rethought his plan.
Catching up with Talac in the next section. More luck had her ball hitting his, sending it flying up and over the course boundary stones. Although it only came to rest a few feet away from the course, no need for Talac to trek through the boggy wildflower meadow. Two shots later though he was within hitting distance of the goal, but then so was Alia.
She watched Talac line up his shot. Just before he made contact with his ball she asked curiously. “All those medals you wear. Was there some war that occurred that I failed to learn about in my history books?”
Miss Delish sucked in a shocked gasp, looking like she might faint. All the nearby players frozen in place, rivetted, watching Talac as he followed through. His aim ever so slightly skewed, his ball falling three feet short of the goal.
Talac lifting his gaze to Alia. “They’re ceremonial. You should see my Father’s dress uniform. They had to train his horse not to spook when he rides, as they rattle so much.”
Biting her lip so as not to laugh, Alia made a shooing gesture. “Move.”
“The rules state I’m allowed to stand near my ball.”
“But not block the goal itself. Go on, move… that way.”
You could have heard a bee buzz. Every player holding their breath. Lady Alia Gloomenthrall had just instructed the Prince to move… and he did. Two feet over so she could take her next shot unobstructed. Her ball sailing through the goal and thumping up hard against the boundary of the next section of the course.
Alia more than a little peeved that with his next turn Talac achieved the goal. Not only that, his ball hit a clump of grass, jumping over the boundary stones into the next sextant, quickly rolling away out of view. Talac giving her a smug look as he followed after it.
“Do try and keep up, Lady Alia.”
Hah, she’d show him. Performing a perfect scoop shot, sending it up and over the boundary blocks easily. Annoyingly, her ball hit a solid block of knee high marble and was sent rebounding into a confusing grid of towering blocks. Damn.
Worse still, Talac’s ball was now in a prime position. With only two shots he’d probably take this goal. Except, a yellow ball came out of nowhere, and with a loud thwack shunted Talac’s ball sideways, ending with it stuck behind rows of blocks that looked like miniature grave stones.
Again, everyone on the course, except for Alia and Brandth, sucked in their breath, waiting. But all Talac did was huff a frustrated breath. “Nicely played, Lady Niah.” Acknowledging the dark skinned beauty, who was looking sadly washed out in a pale rose dress, matching gemstones designed to look like flowers studding her long dark plaited hair. Her expression shifting instantly from frozen horror to a cheeky smile.
“All is fair in love and quarry-hammer, Your Highness.”
The current arrangement left Alia with little choice when it came to achieving the goal, she had to hit Lady Niah’s ball hard enough through the goal so hers would follow the same trajectory.
