“That depends on who they want to fuck.”
My lips parted without meaning to. I’d never spoken about this sort of thing with anyone before—never had the opportunity—and Cash talked about it like it was the most casual thing in the world.
“Who won the last tournament?” I asked, hoping to stir the conversation toward Hael, then thought more on it and added, “And what did they pick?”
Cash went to open his mouth, but Arrik cut him off.
“Last I checked, I’m her escort to the tournament, not you.” His voice was low, menacing.
Cash smirked, looking between us, before sauntering off toward one of the lounges on our balcony, leaving me alone with the rider, and any chance of my questions getting answered went with him.
I turned to look at Arrik and had to crane my neck up to see hisface. It was the first time I was standing directly in front of him, and I forgot how tall he was. He had the same large sword strapped across his back, the silver metal so bright it reflected off the thick scar running down his neck.
A quick scan of his body had me noting just how many smaller weapons were tucked into his uniform, and I was sure there were even more concealed that I couldn’t see.
He looked like a brutal warrior. If he wasn’t the one who found me in the Valdern, I would have suspected him to be Hael. But I knew better. Besides already knowing his name was Arrik now, a leader wouldn’t be making a criminal drop off into Moriann.
But regardless of the fact that he wasn’t their leader, he was still intimidating as hell. It only made me anxious for what Hael would be like.
Because Arrik was the kind of man I’d run far, far away from.
I refusedto drink anything off the tables, even after other Wielders and riders joined us. Getting intoxicated seemed to be a common theme, and I was getting the vibe that the Vargothi was more of a social event than an actual tournament. Every balcony I could see had drinks passed around, and even people in the stands below were ordering more and more off servants who walked the steep steps.
Arrik was the only other person, aside from me, who wasn’t drinking. He hadn’t moved from the railing and was standing next to me looking out across the projection.
I had tried asking him a few questions throughout the day, but by the fourth time he ignored me, I gave up.
Cash came up to us every so often. Usually only when Arrik was so invested in what was happening on the projections that he didn’t force him to leave.
I used every opportunity to ask him as many questions as I possibly could, just nothing was useful.
I was disappointed no one was introduced as Hael. It didn’t make sense. I assumed the leader of the drakins would have been running the tournament, but he was nowhere to be found. I tried my best to act casual, but I found myself getting more and more irritated. So far, I’d learned nothing useful to tell Dahes. I couldn’t even tell him which drakin we were hunting.
“I thought there were supposed to be dragons,” I mumbled, mostly to myself.
A laugh sounded next to me, so unexpectedly, that I jumped.
“The dragons won’t come today,” Arrik said, eyeing me.
“So you speak,” I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest, not able to quell the anger rising in me. He had thoroughly ignored me all day, even when I purposely tried to ask him questions, andnowhe wanted to talk. “I thought you lost the ability the second we walked into the throne room.”
He turned to look at me now, his pale eyes looking more golden under the suns. They reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t place it. It was another thing that kept bothering me about him.
“Dragons come on the third day,” he said, ignoring my mini outburst. “You’ll want to tell your servant that.”
I was about to open my mouth to ask what the hell Bran had to do with anything when the smell of alcohol hit me.
“So what do you think?” Cash asked as he came up to the other side of me. I lost count of how many drinks he consumed since the tournament started. His speech was starting to slur and his blonde hair was slicked back in a thin layer of sweat.
“It’s disappointing,” I blurted before I thought better of it. “Watching them compete to see who can throw a dagger the furthest seems a little anticlimactic for the riders of the Drakin Army.”
Arrik tensed beside me, but he didn’t say anything, just kept watching the projection in front of us, back to acting like I didn’t exist.
Cash smirked. “You want to see blood spilled, convict? I didn’t realize you were so ruthless.”
“No,” I paled, stuttering as my words didn’t come out right. “I just was expecting…” I paused trying to think over how to phrase it. “More,” I finally settled on, which was the truth. I had no idea what I expected from the Vargothi, but it wasn’t this. I could probably pass the tournament with flying colors if all it entailed was throwing daggers at targets.
“Careful,” Cash said, his eyes glancing up at Arrik. “Riders don’t react well to Wielders mocking them.”
