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“Ladies,” Rose said. “Choose your weapons.”
She gestured to the various axes, swords, and blades laid out on a table under the king’s stand. We approached side by side. I expected Rona to make some snide remark or threat, but she was focused now, prickly, and her eyes flashed gold as she picked up a Frasian broadsword. Had the howling made her want to shift? Even my wolf was attentive to the charge in the air.
I chose a Shiangan single-edged sword, with a tapered blade that narrowed at the hilt and widened slightly toward the top. It wasn’t made quite as finely as the ones I was used to training with in Daybreak, purchased directly from the traders at the port, but it was familiar in my hand and the right size and weight for parrying. I swung it in a few careful arcs, testing the weight and balance as I walked back toward the center of the arena.
When I glanced up, the king was watching my testing moves with a curious tilt to his head. Shit. I’d already fallen into my muscle memory.
There was a large white circle drawn on the dirt. I took my place at one end and fell naturally into my fighting stance, with my left foot forward and the sword in my right hand. Ten yards away, Rona stood in a similar stance, with the sword gripped so tightly her knuckles were white. Anger and anticipation radiated off her, and she didn’t hesitate to bare her teeth in a snarl intended to intimidate.
I took a slow inhale and a long exhale. I turned my focus to Rona and let the roar of the crowd become white noise. My heart beat fast and steady. Rona was a brawler. She’d be fast, impulsive, sloppy. She might even drop her sword and use her fists instead. All I had to do was stay on my feet and let her wear herself out. Maybe get a few good hits in of my own, if the openings appeared.
“Begin!” Rose bellowed.
I expected Rona to lunge forward immediately, but she lingered in place, nostrils flaring as she watched me.
“Come on,” I said, just loud enough for her to hear. “I’ll go easy on you.”
That made Rona bare her teeth and growl. She dropped into a lower stance, took the hilt of her sword in both hands, and charged at me.
I sidestepped it easily, and Rona nearly fell out of the marked circle. She caught her balance at the last moment, staggered to her feet, and then swung the sword in a wide, arc right at my head. I blocked it easily and bounced to the center of the ring. I heard Barion’s voice in my head. Control the space, he said. Let your opponent wear themselves out.
Rona whirled, eyes blazing, and lunged at me again. This time she swung her sword at my gut; I stepped back and to the side, then smacked her flank with the flat of my sword. The crowd booed, but the thwack sound made me grin. She growled again—yes, that had embarrassed her, just as I intended.
Again, she moved toward me, swinging her sword violently, only for me to block or parry, then step in close and tap her with the flat of the blade. I could’ve hurt her, using the blunted edge to bruise or even break bone if I really wanted to, but it felt more effective to dodge. Get her riled up. She was getting so frustrated—her attacks got even sloppier, and her rage was visible in her glowing yellow eyes. Her face reddened with frustration and exertion, and her breaths came in great heaves. I felt fine—I’d hardly broken a sweat.
The next time she swung her blade at my face, I dropped down and elegantly swept her feet out from under her. Rona squawked in surprise and toppled backward, landing flat on her ass in the dirt, while I stood back up into my casual fighting stance. She snarled and clawed her way backward as the crowd was split between loud boos and drunken laughter. She glanced around furiously at the stands, then narrowed her eyes at me and shifted. The crowd went ballistic.
Her fine dress split down the back as her wolf emerged, bigger than I would’ve expected, colored the same chocolate-brown as the servants’ wolves. I took a step back, eyes wide as my grip tightened on the hilt of my sword. What did she think she was doing? This was a sparring match—but from the way her lip curled back, exposing her sharp teeth, she’d forgotten that minor detail. Her hackles lifted. She growled through her teeth.
“Enough!” the king roared from his box in the stands. He stood up and braced both hands on the railing.
A tense silence fell over the crowd. I kept my sword in hand as I turned to face the king, and Rona turned too, her ears flattened back to her head.
“You disappoint me.” The king glanced between us. “Both of you. This was intended to be a well-matched spar. Lady Reyna refuses to engage, and Rona of Nightfall brings out her wolf. Are these the behaviors of potential queens?” He raised his eyebrows.
I bit back a sneer, but the king had a keen eye for my expressions at this point. “An explanation, Lady Reyna?” he asked.
I swallowed. “Apologies, Your Majesty.” I ducked my chin in deference.
“The explanation,” Barion boomed as he strode out of the staging area with a very distraught-looking Lady Glennis behind him, “is that Lady Reyna of Daybreak has not been faced with an adequate challenger.”
“Oh?” the king asked. “A soldier of Daybreak questions my Choice?”
I stared at Barion, willing him with all my might to shut up and keep whatever crazy idea he had to himself. Of course, it didn’t work. When Barion got an idea in his head, he was just as stubborn as I was.
“Not at all, Your Highness,” Barion said. “But if you wish to see what the Lady Reyna is capable of, you must provide her with a well-matched opponent.”
“And who would you suggest, soldier?” the king asked. “I trust you don’t mean yourself.”
“No, King of Nightfall,” Barion said. “I meant you.”
9
The crowd exploded into cheers at the suggestion. The duchess leaned back in her chair and pinched the bridge of her nose.
The king grinned. He spread his arms wide to the arena. “Well, my subjects?” he asked. “Would you like to see if this soldier speaks the truth?”
The cheers only increased in volume, mixed with the thunderous stamping of feet and sporadic wild howls. Rona’s head only dipped lower, her tail tucked between her legs. Lady Glennis looked just as irritated as the duchess as she summoned Rona off the field and back into the staging area.
