Instead, I gave him a smug expression. “I already share her with your furry ass. If he makes her happy, I’ll put aside our differences.” Narrowing his eyes, Hayle kicked out and hooked a leg around my ankles, sending me flailing forward. I caught myself with my air magic and shot him a pissed look. “What thefuck?”
“You don’t get to be the reasonable one. You get to be the haughty, demanding one who gives good dick and keeps Avalon happy. Stay in your lane.”
I laughed, a burst of sound that echoed around the atrium, making conversations die and people turn toward us. Schooling my face back into a frown, I glared at him. “What does that make you?”
“The great love of her life.” He grinned at me. “And giver ofgreatdick.”
Rolling my eyes, I stepped out into the courtyard. “I don’t think it’s a competition.”
Hayle was now openly smirking. “But what if it was? A tournament even, like the days of old.”
“You want to do a sex tournament?” I asked incredulously, though I kept my voice low.
“No. Well, if you want, but that would be just between us.” Shaking his head, Hayle pointed west, to where the Eighth Line Barony sat. “No, that’s how we get to Eaglehoth. I’ve arranged with my father to have a Tournament of Second Heirs. And he’s arranging with Baron Tarrin to hold it in the forests around Eaglehoth, ostensibly so even the Eleventh and Twelfth Lines can attend.”
That was actually kind of brilliant. Tournaments of Second Heirs had been a huge thing a century ago. Direct Heirs’ lives had always been too valuable, but with the spare Heirs? Why not pit them against each other for some kind of bragging rights?
I looked over at Hayle appreciatively. “You’re more devious than you look, Hayle Taeme.”
He grinned, his face lighting up when he saw Avalon crossing the courtyard toward him. “From you, I’m going to take that as a compliment. Right now, I’m going to kiss our girl for the both of us.”
Then he was grabbing up Avalon, kissing her possessively. Maybe there was something to be said for teamwork.
Thirteen
Avalon
The buzz around the Tournament of Second Heirs spread through Boellium like the jock rash that had sent forty percent of the conscripts to the medical wing last month. The conscripts were giddy with excitement, and the betting had already started in earnest.
Second Heirs was a bit of a misnomer, though, because it wasn’t necessarily between the second-born children of the Barons, but simply the spare Heirs, like Vox and Hayle. The ones who weren’t going to become Baron, but were still being groomed to do so in case the official Heir suddenly died. Some Barons had fifteen children; but there could only be one main Heir, who would inherit, and one Spare Heir, just in case. The rest of us just got the useless title to set us apart from everyone else, and usually that was enough to stop inter-Line bloodshed over succession.
Kian was the Ninth Lines Heir-apparent, and my second eldest brother, Bach, was the spare. It was just a coincidence that they were my two oldest siblings. It wasn’t decided by birth, or even gender if your Line was progressive enough, but more about aptitude. That was why Hayle was the third son of the Baron of the Third Line, but also the ‘second’ Heir. I’d neverasked why his older brother didn’t want the role, or why he’d been passed over, but it was just the way it happened sometimes. I certainly didn’t want to be the Baron of the Ninth Line, even if my father wasn’t a misogynistic asshole.
Unfortunately, male Heirs were almost the default; female Barons were still looked upon as weaker by most of the Lines. It was also why the odds for the two female spare Heirs–Delphine Lunderov, from the Seventh Line, and Kyler Tarrin from the Eighth Line–had such terrible odds in the betting pools.
Obviously, Vox had the best odds, but Hayle wasn’t far off. Even though they both knew it was a cover for Lierick to speak to the Baron of the Eighth Line, it didn’t mean that they weren’t bickering about it.
“All I’m saying is that in a tournament where powers aren’t allowed, we’re far more evenly matched than the odds are showing. In fact, I would argue I’m better equipped for hand-to-hand combat. My stamina is more impressive,” Hayle argued, winking at me even as I rolled my eyes.
“So impressive,” I said mock-solemnly, then squealed as he scooped me up and tossed me over his shoulder.
“Well, now I have to prove myself. If anyone needs us, we’ll be in my dorm room.”
Instructor Perot entered then, clearing his throat. “If you could put Miss Halhed in a seat, Mr. Taeme, we’ll get started on today’s lesson,” he snarked, and Hayle dropped me gently into the seat beside him.
“Apologies, Instructor.” He grinned, but the instructor just glared until he fell into his seat too. Vox sniggered from across the room, and Hayle made a rude gesture. He wasn’t even subtle about it.
As the instructor started his lecture, I could all but see Hayle’s brain cooking up some kind of trouble. Leaning towardhim, I nudged him with my elbow. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t do it,” I whispered.
Hayle leaned closer. “What if I was thinking about eating you out?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Then I’d strongly suggest you think about that later. Preferably without clothes on.”
“Deal,” he purred, and we tuned back into Instructor Perot. I didn’t want to piss him off, because he still kind of hated me.
“In honor of the reinstatement of the Tournament of Second Heirs, we’re delving into the history of the original tournament, including the last one, held in North’s Edge before the fall of the Second Line.”
It took everything in me not to look at Lierick, who was sitting among the Eleventh Line conscripts like he was just a simple farm boy, not one of the most powerful people in Ebrus.
