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There were no bows or niceties this time; both of us waited for the announcement, staring each other down before circling one another warily. My bone armor was nearly impenetrable but didn’t offer me any enhancements of speed or strength, not like the mass of metal he’d strapped onto his body.
“What kind of poison did you use on the Young Bear?” I asked conversationally, keeping in step with him as we moved in a circle.
“Wyrmbane.” He smirked, and I laughed under my breath. The wyrm was my family’s sigil, no doubt something he’d planned.
“You have the antidote?” I asked, sand shifting under my feet. He wouldn’t have as much experience fighting on the sand as I, especially compensating for his magic.
“Worried you’ll need it?”
Theodas moved first, swinging his sword in a wide arc. I blocked it easily, and we went back and forth, both of us testing the other’s skill. I could feel his confidence increasing as I parried his blows one by one; his strength and speed growing as he funneled more magic into the metal.
But putting power behind a blow wasn’t enough.
He left himself open for a split second and that was all I needed. With a quick twist, I turned his own poisoned blade against him; he winced in pain as the blade sunk deep into his arm.
He stumbled back in shock, dropping his sword with a loud clang before sinking to his knees. Theodas shook his head in confusion, just as Caelia had done only moments before.
I stepped forward, pointing my sword at him menacingly before lowering it to press against the side of his neck until it forced him to bare his throat or be cut.
“Yield.”
His lips thinned further until they were no longer visible, his cobalt blue eyes glaring up at me.
“I concede,” he murmured before collapsing back into the sand. His brothers ran forward, the lumbering one scooping his older brother into his arms as the one with the silver eye shot me a venomous look.
The crowd cheered in approval as he carried away Theodas and I made my way to the sidelines where Raenisa waited, the next pair of nobles already hitting the sand to duel for the emperor’s favor.
“Well done.” She said with a nod before turning away to survey the arena. My gaze searched the throng only to settle at the top of the stands on the same beautiful white-haired concubine who had been watching me since she’d walked out. Her eyes were filled with loathing and hatred as she stared at me, and it felt like I was looking into a mirror.
I shook my head, attempting to rid myself of the strange feeling and focus on the battle in front of me.
The courtiers murmured as they watched the next skirmish. It didn’t take me long to realize what they were discussing; after Varzorn had pulled me from the Niothe, they had dismissed me as an option. My quick defeat of Theodas had shown them I was a genuine threat, and now everyone else who wanted to be the emperor’s heir would try to kill me, too.
But I had a bigger problem. I couldn’t take my eyes off the courtesan.
No matter how hard I tried, my gaze kept wandering back toward her. I’d contemplated forfeiting after beating Theo, but the mental image of someone else laying claim to her made my blood boil.
I forced myself to look away from her and toward the arena, where two more nobles were beginning their duel. Steel clanged against steel as both opponents fought for dominance, each trying their best to outwit and overpower their opponent.
The crowd cheered them on, though my focus quickly shifted away from the fight as a movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention; it was that same white-haired courtesan again, now standing at the edge of the balcony looking down on us all with a strange expression on her face. As if she wanted to kill every last one of us.
I watched her throughout the rest of the bouts as the afternoon wore on, even during my other fights with distant cousins who were determined to make a name for themselves. Her gaze never wavered, tracking me as if she wished it was she on the sand, able to skewer me herself.
“We’ve come to the last bout of the day. This battle will determine who will be crowned champion and have the first choice of the prizes. Prince Rhazien Carxidor versus Prince Theron Axidor!” The announcer declared. My stomach sank, and I looked up, my gaze locking with Rhazien’s. He smirked, his eyes glinting with cunning.Fuck.Had he planned this?
Varzorn made a face when they announced my father’s surname, as if annoyed I still claimed the Axidor name instead of his, as Rhazien did. The emperor had never had children—they tended to kill their fathers in the royal family—but he enjoyed Rhazien’s claim of his Carxidor heritage.
I took a deep breath and steeled myself. Rhazien was bigger and stronger with all that gold on, but I had trained harder than anyone else in the Niothe. Memories from my childhood crowded my mind, flashes of blood and pain with Rhazien’s face hovering over me, and I shoved them away as he sauntered down the steps to the sand.
“It looks like it’s you and me, brother,” he mocked, his voice carrying through the arena. My stomach roiled, a strange mix of fear and determination flooding my veins with adrenaline, but I pushed myself to stay focused. “Unless you’re ready to concede?”
“Not today,” I replied, drawing my bone sword once more, wishing I still had its twin. Godsdamn Striker. Rhazien’s expression hardened, and I realized his plan. He’d expected me to yield, as I always did. Then it would appear as if the man who’d defeated everyone else was too afraid to face him. Any other day, he would be right. I didn’t give a damn what Varzorn or anyone else thought of me. But I wasn’t about to forsake my claim onher. I glanced up at the concubines, unsurprised to see the silver-haired beauty’s gaze still locked upon me.
We advanced slowly, testing our swords against one another as we circled, neither of us willing to give up an inch of ground. My weapon was sharper, made of bone from the god Rhaedos, but Rhazien had more power behind his attacks. His movements were lightning quick, his metal armor and magical metallurgy giving him unnatural speed and strength as he staved off my strikes with almost no effort.
My muscles strained with every parry, sweat dripping down my face as I desperately tried to gain some kind of advantage against his massive power. But Rhazien was too swift, his sword always faster than mine.
“What’s wrong brother? Don’t tell me you’re scared?” He taunted me from across the sand. More memories threatened to overwhelm me, my body remembering the pain he’d inflicted on it, and I had to fight the urge to flee.
