White-hot pain strikes the centre of my chest, sporadic at first and then constant. It plagues me all day and keeps me up when I go to bed. It stops me from drifting off most nights these days, and I’m sick and tired of praying for the solution that will never arrive.
Giving up on sleep for the tenth night running, I drag myself out of bed at one in the morning, change into training gear, and stalk into the pitch-black training courtyard. Dusting my hands with chalk, I hang from the pull-up bar and haul myself up over and over until my arms betray me. I plummet down to the cool stone tile and switch to lunges with heavy weights on my back. It’s exhausting, but the pain in my muscles is not enough to quiet the fire in my chest.
"Why did you free Stellan?" Comes a soft voice, as I move into my second hour of weight training alone in the courtyard. I can’t see her, but hiding in the shadows is what she is good at.
"So you'll leave quicker," I retort, giving her the honest truth.
"Oh. You want me gone?"
"I've wanted you gone since I shot you in the woods."
"Oh." She sighs, her chest falling a little as she steps into the courtyard. Instantly the atmosphere changes, charged with some kind of electricity that Evergreen magic alone cannot explain. I want her more than I’ve wanted something in a long time. But one look at her reminds me that she is not all she seems. Every inch of her is plastered in weapons, poisons, and unfamiliar gadgets, a hood covering her face.
The ring of steel pierces the tranquil quiet as she pulls a sword from her back, standing opposite me. "Fight me?"
She’s worse than having a toddler was. "No."
"Please? I'll go away after.”
I kick up my sword and catch it, starting to fight her. The first swing of my blade is intercepted by both of hers, her back arching as she rolls under them both. I underestimated her. She'd beat many of my guards. What she doesn’t have in size she makes up for in agility, obnoxiously backflipping over my sword as I sweep it at her legs. It’s second nature to her, swinging them around her in a perfectly choreographed dance with her ponytail flicking across her face.
"You're an accomplished swordswoman," I say, once she is too breathless to carry on, both of us stopping for some water.
"Really?" Her face lights up. "I'm an archer at heart. How did you get so good?"
"I'm old. I've fought in sixty wars,” I tell her, putting down my sword. I cross my arms across my chest, standing opposite her. "Renna, I'll acquiesce to your request for permission to stay in my forest, subject to limits. You can only hunt in the western section, you cannot fight with my guards, and you must do your fair share of hunting goblins, soldiers, spies, and wolves. I've drawn up a contract, it needs your signature."
She lets out a heavy breath, nodding. "Thank you, Rexxan."
I like it when she says my name. I'd rather she was screaming it, but I'll take any scraps of this curious creature that I can get. She shoots an arrow into a target, watching it pierce the tiny black dot at the centre. "Then I'll leave first thing tomorrow."
"And decline Espan's offer of being his date to the Five Kingdom Ball.”
"How did you know about that?"
"I know about everything that happens between my borders." Except for the fucking Vault break-in. My mood plummets. Who did it, and how did they get past the first wave of guards?
She smiles, but it doesn’t quite touch her eyes. "He'd understand, I hope. I'm wise enough to know when I'm not welcome, and I'm not welcome here."
Sheiswise, for someone so young. Is she even that young? She lies so often; I don’t know who she really is. Whatever this is between us, it’s confusing. Like we don’t like one another but we’re utterly fascinated by each other.
"How old are you?"
"Truthfully... I'm not sure, exactly. My mother died when I was young, and my father died a few years later. I have no memory of my age and they left no record of me. Onyx doesn't know how old I am either. He doesn’t even know how oldheis."
"How did your mother die?"
"Of the flu."
"And your father?"
"Onyx stabbed him in the heart.”
Fuck. "Why would he stab his father?"
"Because our father beat us.” She explains, calmly. "I smashed a window, and Onyx took the blame for me, but my father didn't know who to believe, so he splashed boiling water on us both. I think it was the final straw. He killed our father in his sleep that evening. I’m a monster, Rexxan. Killing comes easily to me, and unaccompanied by guilt. But Onyx… he’s not a killer. Sure, he’s fucking good at it, but every death haunts him."
Holy shit. That's heavy. I sit down beside her on the courtyard wall, the Kingdom quiet, save for our heavy breaths. I've never known anyone like her, and I don’t imagine that I ever will again.
