Page 10 of House of the Iron Reaper

I set my shoulders, straighten my spine, and compose myself. Striding further down the hall, at the bridge connecting the two halves of my House, gentle laughter floats up from below. I pause on the bridge and peer over the balustrade.

The rest of House Glass dine together each night, often taking to the outdoor garden to sit in the pleasant evening warmth. They huddle together in loose circles, a jumble of jewel-toned kaftans and beige dresses. I watch them for a moment, the chatter drifting up to meet me. It is not unruly or loud—no one in House Glass ever is—but it is certainly different from the dinners I attend. Relaxed, perhaps.

A pang of something unpleasant sits in my chest. I step back from the balustrade and press on, over the bridge and through the doors to the bed chambers.

“Ni Novalie!”

Aythora’s voice halts me in the hall. I turn to see her hurrying through the doors behind me. I steel myself.

“Shu Aythora.” I tap my chin contritely. “I… I apologise for my outburst.”

Aythora waves a hand.

“I did not chase you down for that, young one.” She smiles, red painted lips stretched over sharp teeth. “I merely had a suggestion.”

I arch a brow and gesture for her to continue.

“The dragon from House Iron…”

“Deyanara.” Even speaking her name makes my face throb all the more.

“Yes, her.” Aythora crosses her arms, eyes glowing like furnaces. “Since I began your training, not once have I seen an opponent even lay a finger on you. Let alone-”

“Break my face in half?” I fight the urge to smile. The thought should not make me smile. “Yes, I know. I was there.”

“With the Rites so close, I believe…” Aythora licks her lips, leaning forward. “She may be the partner you need to assure your Ascension.”

I tilt my chin up, regarding Aythora through swollen eyes.

“If I can beat her, I can beat any doomkin,” I state, saying out loud what she implies.

With a sly smile, Aythora nods.

“You want us to use her.” The words taste bitter, but Aythora only shrugs.

“Perhaps. But I shall train her as well, of course, and who knows? House Iron may have their first Ascended in however long.” She does not sound entirely convinced by her own words, but before I can respond, she crosses the space between us, eyes intense. Her heat stings my eyes. “Just because it works in your favour, does not mean it cannot work in hers also. Hm?”

I cross my arms, lips twisted in thought.

“You are the pride of House Glass,” Aythora continues, reaching up to place a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Your mother knows it, despite what she says. This dragon can only improve you.”

I turn it over in my mind. Stuttering, spluttering Deyanara, with fists the size of sledgehammers and the impact to match. All the confidence of a trampled flower and the fighting technique of a drunk infant.

But her smile.

Like a portrait painted on the inside of my skull, I cannot rid myself of the image. A woman who smiles when she fights.

“Very well,” I say with a final nod. “Let us pay a visit to House Iron.”

Chapter 4

Deyanara

Sweat slides down my temples, the muscles in my arms and back straining as I sling another sandbrick onto the sled. Each brick is half the size of me, compacted into dense, heavy cubes. The morning sun beats down on me like a hammer, even with a shawl over my head and shoulders. But two dragons are absent with sickness today, so I know I must work even harder to make quota. Every job done is more gems in our Houses pocket and more food on the table. Even if it is root stew.

Gritting my teeth, I wrap my arms around another brick and straighten, picking it up with a groan. I amble the few steps over to the sled, and push the brick on top of the others.

“Now I see where all those muscles come from.”