"Coora?" Mother asked while I was lookin' at a map of Scotland and comparin' it to England. "Did the King's eldest son ask you to tutor for his brother?"

Hearing those words come from her mouth, me heart dropped into me stomach. How in the name of God did she know that I was talking with Prince Jack and not Dylan? Most of all, how did she know he said that to me?

"Uh... yes?" I hesitantly replied. "...Is father infuriated with me?"

"That, and the fact that The king himself is here to speak with you and me."

Okay, I was about to die. The king?! Are ye serious? Did Jack report me as a pirate that was brandishin' her sword at him? Was the king watchin' us yesterday? Oh, please God, don't let him be banishin' me from England already.

Mother led me off the ship, after cleanin' me up a bit, and I was greeted to a stern lookin' man with four knights by his side. His features on his olive toned skin were sharp, and they gave me goosebumps. His dark eyes were large and almost black, makin' them look like the eyes of a demon. His grayin' beard just made him look more scary and wise. It was like he was studyin' every move I made.

"Miss Coora Terra, I presume?" he asked as I curtsied to him.

"Yes, Your Highness," I replied, tryin' me best not to stutter.

"My son and daughter have told me of your impressive sword fighting skills, and have requested you to be their teacher."

Me eyes widened as I quickly looked up to him. Was he serious? Was he askin' me to be a teacher for the Royal family? Ye have got to be kiddin', right?

"Have you come here to tell her that she is able to teach?" Mother asked in a bold voice.

The king was shocked by this trait in her. "I didn't know you were an English, ma'am."

"I am asking about my daughter, Your Highness," she said, an icy look in her blue eyes. "Have you come to tell her that she is the Royal family's new teacher or not?"

Le ainm Dhè, far an robh a màthair ag ionnsachadh a 'bruidhinn mar sin a Royals? When did me mother learn to speak that way to Royals? I could tell she was getting on his Highness's nerves.

"Yes," he finally said. "She is able to teach my sons... and my daughter how to sword fight. That is, if she know proper techniques."

"Technique?" Mother said, shocked. "When you're fighting for your life, do you think about your grace as you do on a ballroom floor?"

"Well ma'am-"

"I think not." She put a hand on me shoulder and gave an even sterner look than the king. If that was even possible. "She will teach Prince Jack and Dylan and Princess Atza how to fight with her own way that has kept her alive all these years. Do I make myself clear, Your Highness?"

The king studied me mother, but her expression didn't change. "Very well. I shall see you tomorrow, Miss Coora Terra."

And with that last note, he rode off with his bodyguards followin' him.

****************************************************

"YOUR MOTHER DID THAT?!" Atza shouted, the next day when I told what happened. "THAT WOMAN IS A LEGEND TO SPEAK UP TO MY FATHER LIKE THAT!"

"Me mother has always been like that to Royalty," I replied. "It's somethin' about our heritage and bein' put down in the dust when we should be with the Royals. Ye can ask her yeself to learn more about it."

We were walkin' through the halls as two knights walked behind us and a butler in front of us. The butler was very surprised to see me, but I didn't pay much attention since Atza was there next to him.

But these halls were enormous! They were white with marble floors with red carpet, and everythin' was lit up by candlelit chandeliers. Huge, church-like windows lined the walls and gave an amazin' view of the sea and the castle gardens. I've been in this castle once, but that was only the ballroom, and I didn't pay much attention to the area around me. I don't think I've seen anthin' prettier.

"We're here!" Atza said. "Jack! Dylan! Coora's here!"

I then turn me head to see the brothers wearin' combat gear. It consisted of a white tunic, brown trousers with a belt to hold their swords, and black boots. Dylan's hair was tied at the nape of his neck while Jack merely had his messied up from fightin'.

"I see my father took your mother's word and let you train us," he then spoke when lookin' at me. "I'm done trainin' me brother. Now, it is time for you to train him." He patted me shoulder as he nodded and left with the butler.

"I thought you were going to train all three of us at once," Dylan joked. "I suppose Jack is too much of a wuss to be fighting a lady like you."

The wink he gave me made me face heat up. Ugh, I really needed to stop fallin' for a Royal. I cleared me throat and fiddled with me sword handle. Dylan glanced over to it and squinted to study it more.

"Isn't that a Royal sword?" he asked while turnin' his head to the side and lookin' at me.

"Is it?" I asked, genuinely confused. "Mother told me it was me great-grandfather's, but she never went into specifics."

He shrugged as Atza nudged him. "Maybe it's just a similar design to the previous Royal family." He then took out his sword and aimed it at me. "Are you going to teach me and sis the true way to wield a sword?"

"Ye already failed," I said.

He and Atza gave me confused looks.

"What do you mean, Lass?" Atza asked.

"There is no true way to fight with a sword. The only thin' that matters in this case-" I looked at Dylan's sword, slashed my sword upwards, and caught his in me right hand. "Is trickin' ye enemy to think ye are doin' somethin' different that what they think."

*******************************

"You look better with a sword and a fighting look," Dylan then said after two hours of teachin'.

"Dè? A bheil thu dha-rìribh suirghe maille rium?" I said in Gaelic.

"Maybe I am flirting with you."

"Aye," I slashed at him while speakin'. "When did ye learn to speak Gaelic?"

"My brother travels everywhere because he has the freedom. He's a bastard, or not a true Royal."

"I know what a bastard is," I said while thinkin' of somethin' funny. "Me father is a different kind of bastard."

Dylan snorted slightly while putting a gloved fist to his mouth. "Do ye say that on your ship?"

"Fad na h-ùine. All the time. What else do ye understand in Gaelic?"

"Say something else. For each one I get wrong, you get to attack me."

"Tha mi air leth Beurla," I spoke.

"I can speak English?" he said.

I did a front flip and clashed me sword with his. "Wrong!"

"You are half English," he replied.

"There ye go. Now..." I glanced over to Atza and smirked. "Do phiuthar e gòrach."

"My sister is annoying," he laughed.

"HEY!" Atza shouted. "AM NOT!"

I then spoke something that I shouldn't have said. "Carson a bheil gaol agad orm cho mòr?" Why do you love me so much?

I hid me expression so he wouldn't understand what I just blurted. Dylan bit his lip before replyin'. I let out a breath I was holdin' after what he said.

"I have no clue," he said. "Are you sure you didn't make that part up?"

"I'm sure," I said.

I then slashed at Dylan, but he quickly dodged out of the way and grabbed me wrist. Losing me guard for a second, I looked at him. His dark eyes were staring into mine with amusement.

"Wrong move, Coora," He sang.

Before I could do anything, he tightened his grip, spun me around twice before lockin' me back against his chest. His sword gleamed in the sunlight as it was placed just underneath me neck.

"Gotcha," he whispered in me ear.

"Not quite, Your Highness," I replied, smirkin' with me devious smile.