Yet I was too early for my audience, so I headed for Cael’s chambers. They were at the top of a tall tower, so I had to climb an absurd number of stairs. I tried to focus on my purpose in the palace, but part of my mind remained fixed on the darkened bedchamber where Emmeline slept. Could the trespasser know about her specifically? What if she woke and found me gone? Would she panic? No, she’d probably pick the lock on her manacles somehow and escape. My mouth curved into a smile at the thought despite how it would ruin all my plans. She was truly brilliant despite all the difficulties she caused. Keeping her in my chateau sometimes felt like trying to tame a lightning bolt.
When I reached the top of the stairs, two guards stopped me at the door. A person couldn’t just stroll into the crown prince’s chambers in the middle of the night.
“Good evening, Rogel, Sanctus.” I stopped a short distance from them and kept my hands away from my sword. “Can you ask if His Royal Highness will see me?”
“It’s the middle of the night, Sir Valen,” Sanctus said stonily.
“Is he actually sleeping?”
The two guards exchanged weighted glances.
“I'll get him,” Rogel said after a moment.
I waited in silence, and after a few minutes, the door opened again, revealing Caelestus Ithelion, heir to the throne of the Moonlit Court. He hadn’t bothered putting on a shirt or shoes, and he glared at me with bags under his eyes.
“Are you aware of the time, Sir Valen?” he asked.
“It’s time for a spar. Grab your things. I’ll meet you in the training room.”
Cael arched an eyebrow.
“It’s my duty to ensure my prince can defend himself.” I took a cue from Emmeline and gave him an exaggerated, flippant bow. “I worry you’re slipping, Your Highness.”
Cael said nothing. The guards exchanged a worried glance behind his back.
“Swords or fists?” Cael asked finally.
I hid my relief. “Your choice.”
“Swords, then. I’ll be there in a moment.” He strode back to his chambers but then looked over his shoulder with a ghost of his usual grin. “Don’t worry. I won’t make you wait long to get your ass kicked.”
***
Cael entered the training room fully dressed, with his long, silvery-white hair neatly combed and pulled back with a cord. The bags under his eyes remained unchanged, but at least he was making an effort.
I took two wooden practice swords from a stand along the wall and tossed one to him. “Sticking to your strengths, I see.”
The prince was the best swordsman in the Moonlit Court. That might be meaningless praise in other Courts, where tutors flattered a prince’s skill to gain favor, and opponents purposefully lost to avoid offending him, but here it was the truth.
“You’re no slouch yourself,” he replied. “How many Netherworld soldiers fell to your blade during the invasion? I hear Mother wanted to give you a second knighthood.”
“Where did you hear that?”
That kind of rumor could undo all the work I’d put into my foppish ladies’ man persona. I didn’t need people taking a closer look at me—especially not now of all times.
Cael shrugged and took his position on the training floor. Sparkling white sand covered the extensive square area, intended to cushion fighters when they fell. I’d heard they’d brought it in all the way from the Lunoreth Ocean.
Biting back questions about the rumor (I hadn’t come here to interrogate him.), I stood across from him. We bowed, and the duel began.
I must have pissed him off more than I’d thought, because he attacked instantly and ferociously. He drove me back, and I could barely parry his rapid strikes. I knew without glancing backwards that I was approaching the edge of the training floor. If I went out of bounds, I would lose.
I pivoted, narrowly dodged a strike, and counterattacked. My focus was on Cael’s sword, but I caught the grin on his face.
Thank the stars. I’d been afraid even this wouldn’t shake him out of his sorrow.
The cracks of our wooden swords colliding echoed through the large room, sounding loud enough to wake half the palace. My breaths grew quick, and I was working up a sweat—which wasn’t ideal for my audience with the queen later.
I drove my sword toward Cael’s ribs, his chest, his thigh. He blocked each strike, just as I’d expected. I was trying to wear him down enough that he’d give me a real opening. Then he spun, and I ducked just in time to avoid his sword slamming into my head. I tried to stab him, but he danced maddeningly out of the way.
