Page 1 of White Raven

CHAPTER 1

Wood banged in loud clashes, the cold air billowing with our frenetic breaths. Sweat trickled down my back as I tried to scuttle away from my opponent, my boots sinking deeper in the grimy snow.

“Can you take yourself out of the calculation?” The man stepped to the side, countering my steps. “Fight when you need to but always be looking to take yourself out of the equation.”

I glanced around, calculating ways I could escape, my foggy mind taking too long on how I could use the objects around me. He took advantage of my slowness. The blade sliced toward my neck, plucking panic up my chest in bubbles. Grunting, I twisted my body hard to the right, throwing up my weapon to block, barely stopping the chopping hit. The meeting of blades vibrated through my bones, a rush of adrenaline from the close call burning through my layers of clothes.

A triumphant smile quirked my lips, my gaze meeting my adversary for his reaction.

“Good.” The man across from me nodded in approval, his expression firm.

I tried to hide the joy at getting the praise. With him, good was the equivalent to “You did outstanding, Wren! I see you as an equal in battle.”

“Don’t be too pleased. I was able to get close enough to strike.” He circled back around, giving me no time to bathe in my pride, lurching at me with more determination.

“My lady?” a woman’s voice called out from the edge of our makeshift battle ring. “The king is waiting for you.”

My gaze dropped away for a second to see my handmaiden dropping into a curtsy several yards away. Her fair hair was tied back in a simple braid, her long, stately nose wrinkling with disgust at my dirty clothes and knotted tresses.

A blunt stab hit my chest, drawing my attention down to the dull blade grazing my stained, white, long-sleeved training shirt. Whether it was a fancy dress or my training clothes, it was always the color of snow.

“Fuck,” I muttered.

“Never take your eyes off your opponent, Wrennlyn.” Yanric leaned in, his light blue eyes and white hair bright against his black skin. “Your focus needs to be one hundred percent on them until they are defeated, or you could lose your life in a moment.” He stressed his words, hinting at the severity of what would happen if I let myself get killed by such a careless mistake. He never had to remind me; it was ingrained in my bones since a child.

He dropped his wooden sword away from me, irritated at being interrupted during our session, but had no say against it.

Not against my father.

The satisfaction from my tiny victory spun into frustration. Wiping the sweat from my brow, I exhaled, disappointed that I let Sarina pull my attention so easily. Yanric had trained me to block out noise, to always be intent in my purpose and not to let silly mistakes trip me up.

Today my brain was full of hungover butterflies, my focus fluttering too easily.

“We are running late.” Sarina put her hands on her hips. We were the same height, with the Day Raven features of pale hair and light blue eyes that long ago would have matched our feathers. However, where I was lean from training, Sarina captivated men with her curvy figure and small waist. She never let any of the freshly made delicacies at my beck and call go to waste.

Though she was my handmaiden, we were more like sisters, being raised together even as babies. Both of us would be turning nineteen in a handful of months, our birthdays only a day apart—“creating a frenzy of hormones and silliness,” as Elvina put it.

“You cannot be late, Wren. And you know how Elvina gets when we are not on schedule.” I wanted to roll my eyes. I’m pretty sure the king chose Elvina as my primary handmaiden solely to drive me crazy. She was twenty years older but looked and acted like a grandmother. Strict, unpleasant, and always exasperated with me and Sarina.

None of my handmaidens were my age except Sarina, which made us even closer—one of the only friends I was allowed to have. We giggled, gossiped, and got wrapped up in the young men at the market who cheekily smiled, bowing their heads and addressing me with interest when I walked by. Except Sarina would be the one they could bed and she made it known with a wink she was up for it. It was our culture to be open to sex, but I was held to a different standard. My station robbed me of being a normal adolescent girl.

I was the White Raven.

“Your father calls, my lady.” Yanric bowed his head at me, shifting from my trainer to my subject. “I will see you tomorrow.”

I nodded, handing my training sword over to him. No one was allowed to have sharp blades around me during training, only wooden child’s toys, the king too afraid something bad would happen to me.

“Thank you, Yanric.”

He clasped the dulled weapon between his hands, dipping his head again, gathering the equipment we used to train.

King Vorian Stallard had his best guards hovering around me, yet he started my training at twelve, terrified of the moment one of my sentinels might not be there to protect me. He needed me to know how to defend myself. He also made sure every one of my five handmaidens was trained in combat enough to battle an intruder. Sarina hated it with a passion. She despised being sweaty and dirty, unless it was with a boy, preferring to wear the pretty dresses and attend the parties, flirting with the young men parading around hoping to gain my notice. Or more preferably, my father’s.

“Come on.” Sarina tapped her foot impatiently, the urgency for me to hasten crawling over every inch of her body. “If we hurry, we can go through the village market.” She tugged me forward, already heading out toward the parish, which was in the opposite way of the castle. “You know Henrik will be there.” She wiggled her eyebrows with a knowing glint in her eyes.

My cheeks flushed with the memory of last night. Sarina and I snuck out of the castle after Elvina and the other handmaidens were asleep, meeting Henrik and his friend, Thomas, in the horse stalls.

“I thought my father was asking for me?” I burrowed my boots in the snow, feeling my hot sweaty face, sticky skin, and tangled strands loose from my braid sticking to my face even more.