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Cassia’s cheer cut through the gasps from the crowd.
Mak laughed. “Lyros, we taught him well.”
“Flavian’s wrist won’t be good for anything for a while.” Lyros smirked.
Lio pursued Flavian with a grin and tossed a punch that landed lightly on the man’s shoulder. A taunt. Flavian’s calm demeanor dissolved into a scowl. Lio tapped his shoulder again, then his other one, his moves slow enough for even Cassia to follow.
“Brilliant,” Mak said. “The poison has taken his speed, so he’s relying on subtlety. See how still his body is before his fist moves? He isn’t giving Flavian a clue where his attack will land before he strikes.”
Lyros’s eyes crinkled at Cassia. “He practiced this over and over again while you two were separated.”
With a silent shout of triumph echoing through their Union, Cassia watched Lio enact justice on Flavian for every day she had spent betrothed to him.
Not a single one of Flavian’s blows landed. Lio batted him aside with utter focus. With his tall, lean frame perfectly controlled, his fists leapt as if from nowhere and drove past Flavian’s guard. The man could not escape Lio’s longer reach. Lio’s punches glanced Flavian’s famous square jaw, his ballad-worthy cheekbones, and his battle-honed abdomen. Flavian’s scowl became a snarl of effort, and Lio’s fanged grin widened.
Lio embarrassed Flavian from his face to his torso and everywhere in between with blows too light to harm. Every time he landed one, he proved he had the upper hand.
Flavian had never had a chance to win this battle, Cassia realized, because he was fighting for politics. Lio was fighting for her.
Lio dragged out the spectacle, and Cassia sat back in the chair of a princess to relish it. She watched him wield his gentle, beloved body with careful force. Cotton and silk flexed with his strong shoulders and long legs as he pivoted and pursued. Muscles played along his arms. Even as his motions began to slow with exhaustion, he moved with beautiful power.
Flavian’s tunic was drenched in sweat, his breath coming fast. Who would reach his limit first—the mortal, or the Hesperine with Sunfire in his veins?
When Lio’s fangs lengthened, Cassia knew he was about to end it.
Lio propelled his fist from the center of his body and slammed it into Flavian’s jaw. The sound of the impact disappeared under the crowd’s shocked reaction. Cassia’s own hand closed into a fist on her lap, and she felt as satisfied as if she’d landed the blow herself.
Lio hurled his left hand into Flavian’s face, then came back with his right one again for good measure. The man’s head snapped to one side, flinging drops of blood.
Solia let out a surprised laugh. “That’s my favorite punch. The one I used on Lio in our duel.”
Cassia grinned. “He landed a few for you, too.”
Lio worked Flavian’s torso over with a series of blows, ending with a jab to the man’s gut that had him doubling over. All it took then was one more tap to his jaw, and Flavian landed on his back in the dirt with Lio looming over him.
Cassia surged to her feet, along with everyone in Solia’s box. She didn’t care if their cheers were fewer than the outraged cries of their opponents. She stamped her feet and called out Lio’s name.
He lifted his hand to them, the one with her handkerchief around the wrist. He flicked his other fingers, shaking Flavian’s blood from his knuckles.
Then he offered a hand to Flavian. The man groaned, spat a wad of blood onto the ground, and snarled something that Cassia suspected was a filthy curse.
Lio kept his hand out. At last, Flavian took it and, with as much dignity as such a battered man could muster, allowed Lio to help him up.
“Lord Flavian,” the herald called, “do you hereby renounce Princess Cassia and acknowledge that no more betrothal promise binds you?”
Flavian inclined his head in Cassia’s direction, giving her a sardonic look. “I release her.”
A weight she had borne for a year finally lifted off of her. No mortal man had a claim on her any longer. She was free.
She locked eyes with her Grace. Her soon-to-be husband. She had always hated the notion. But looking at her Hesperine standing on the tournament field, the victor over Tenebran morals, she thought the title of husband could take on an entirely new meaning.
AN UNLIKELY UNION
Perita gave Cassia a bemused smile, arranging a sheer yellow veil over the length of her hair. “My lady, are you fidgeting?”
Cassia dropped the end of her golden girdle and folded her hands on the dressing table. She was! She, of all people, was fidgeting. “This is the first time a mortal courtship dance has ever…” She waved vaguely at her belly.
Perita giggled. “Given you that fluttery feeling?”
