But Astraia was already there, driving her boot down hard onto the hand holding his sword. He yelled, relaxing his hand, and the blade slipped. With his other hand, he gripped her ankle and yanked hard.
Astraia fell on top of him, bracing her hands on either side of his face. He winked at her again, then gripped both of her wrists before rolling on the ground, pinning her beneath him. She tried to wriggle free, but he kept her hands pinned to her sides.
“Do you yield?” he asked, smiling down at her, his dark hair in disarray with dirt and leaves scattered between the strands.
“Don’t flatter yourself.” She smiled and flung her forehead forward.
The sound of his nose crunching on impact rang through the courtyard.
Caelan groaned, reaching for his nose now streaming with blood, giving Astraia the leverage she needed. Her knee drove upward, right between his legs.
He buckled, falling over onto his side with a shout. In a single fluid movement, she unsheathed her dagger and rolled on top of him, holding the blade at his throat.
“Yield,” she commanded, staring at the lord’s bloodied face.
Blinking, he stared at her, eyes wide in disbelief. “I yield.”
A roar of applause rippled through the men staring at the two warriors entangled on the courtyard grounds. A few men whistled, laughing and shouting her name.
Astraia did not notice the crowd. She only heard a low husky voice echoing in her mind, “You are stronger than your bonds.”
She blinked rapidly, dazed. Sheathing her dagger, she rose to her feet, peering down at the man she had kissed just the night before. He pushed up from the ground, rising to meet her gaze.
“Enough. Back to training!” he shouted at the men.
A unanimous “Yes, sir” resounded from the men as they took up their swords and began running through drills.
Astraia did not linger. She grabbed her cloak and walked back toward the woods, trying to process how she had acted. Not like a warrior—like a bounty hunter.
She did not get far before she heard Caelan shouting for her.
“Traia, wait!”
She sighed, stopping just inside the trees, turning to face him.
Caelan’s boots crunched on leaves as he stepped closer to her, lowering his voice. “What was that?” he whispered, looking at her as if he was seeing a ghost, his eyes searching hers for answers she was not sure she was ready to give.
“What?” she asked.
“That!” He pointed back toward the training grounds where they had just brawled. “That is not how the Astraia I know fights. Dirty, ruthless.” His nostrils flared.
“The Astraia you knowdied, Caelan. Five years ago in a flash of light. Her entire world burned. And she has been learning tosurviveever since. Maybe”—she paused, narrowing her eyes—“you would know if you asked. But this is who I am now.”
“Who you are? What does that even mean?” he replied. “You survived an assault on your life, but that does not change your character. It does not change the fierce, noble girl I loved into some crazed barbarian.”
“You don’t know…” she murmured, regret coating her words.
“What? What don’t I know, Traia?” His voice was frantic, pleading.
“There was no assault, Caelan. No one else was in that room except my father, mother, Elion, and…me.”
“I don’t understand. I thought –”
“It was me! Ikilledthem!” She was shouting, choking back tears. Her bonds responded with a blaze of hot heat surging at her spine, eager to be unleashed. “Power chose me, and I didn’t even know. Elion was arguing with Father, defending me, and I lost it. I flared. I flared the most devastating Starborne ability in the realm and murdered my family. Every last one of them. Dead.”
Relinquishing her tether, she let Power flash through her, a white blinding light pouring from her eyes and hands.
Caelan stepped back, eyes wide, fear etched across his face.
