Draven's brow lifted, and he shook his head as he stood from the ground. "Your sister does the same damned thing at every meeting. Constantly tapping on the fucking table."
A grin curled on Dorian's lips. "You notice my sister's ticks?" he mocked.
Draven straightened, his back to Dorian. But Dorian could see the tenseness in the Venari King's shoulders, the twinge in his jaw when he turned.
And Dorian grinned in delight at seeing him squirm.
"Careful what you insinuate, Prince," Draven drawled. "I've sat across from her at that table for near thirteen years now. It'd be hard not to notice something so irritating."
"I'm sure that's not all you've noticed," Dorian uttered.
Draven stared at him a long moment. "Pack up," he finally said. "We'll be at Scindo by nightfall."
Dorian smiled at the memory and chuckled under his breath at how irritated Draven had been with him for suggesting what he had.
"You're right," Reverie said to Corbin, arms crossed over her chest. "He does smile at inappropriate times."
Dorian's smile didn't fade as he turned to look around at all the people that had decided to come out to Dahrkenhill’s stadium. The ground beneath them was muddied where light snow had fallen the night before. Sunlight bounced off Dorian's blade as he held it up to inspect it.
"Any clues what it might be?" Dorian asked Corbin.
"Heard a rumor about a great creature," Corbin replied.
Dorian cursed. "Of course it is."
Dorian had trained during the days between the Temple trial and that day with Corbin, trying to keep himself busy and preparing for anything the Blackhands might throw his way. A few people gathered every day in the stadium to watch him, and every time, a mix of nervousness and pride swelled through him.
Despite his being familiar with being put on display his entire life, this was a new sort of display. He'd never had to prove his worth before. One look at him in his form would back any Dreamer or Belwark down.
Here, though... Here, he wasn't sure.
Corbin had pushed him as hard as Lex ever had. Neither knew what Dorian would be up against, and that fueled the pair. There was an obstacle course of jumps and swings in the Ring, all of which Reverie took to challenge herself on while Dorian and Corbin trained in the mud from the snows.
But it was the nights that Dorian did not look forward to. On the road, he'd been able to watch the stars when he could not sleep and keep his mind occupied with counting them. Here, they'd not had a single clear night since his arrival. He was not stupid enough to think he could go into town to their tavern to find another way to kill the thoughts in his head. He had instead surrendered to pacing in the small room. Hands on his hips or threaded through his hair. Doing push-ups until his arms were so tired that he couldn't lift himself off the ground.
Because all he could see was Draven falling when he shut his eyes. And all he could hear was his sister screaming.
So he would drink the nyghtfire until his flask was dry, and he would smoke the herb until he couldn't feel his lungs. He asked Corbin to bring him more nyghtfire every morning, and each time the look Corbin gave him made his heart hurt, but he got it. Corbin had said he would only do it until the trials were over or he embarrassed himself.
Dorian never slept in the bed, too scared if he did that he would catch the mattress on fire. His powers had become erratic in his sleep. He was managing to keep it under control when he was awake... But unconscious... It was as though his core was trying to protect him, pushing that form to the surface when it felt Dorian being threatened.
He slept naked on the floor to combat this. Every morning, Corbin would wake him with a poke of his scythe as Dorian was always aflame. Dorian knew Corbin could see the pain he was in, but Dorian pushed it aside as he always did.
That morning had been no different. Dorian had risen and stared at the ring of black on the floor along with Corbin. The look in his Second's eyes was one he'd come to hate. Dorian had snatched the flask from Corbin's hands and doused the entirety of it back down his throat, allowing it to burn his insides.
Dag and Damien were the two who came to escort them to the stadium.
"I think you're enjoying this too much," Reverie had said when Dorian's wrists were shackled instead of roped.
"I'd much rather you be placing me in such bindings, but I suppose Dag will do just fine," Dorian teased.
Dag had been completely taken aback by the Prince's flirtation and had turned Dorian towards the doors with such a jolt, Dorian nearly fell to his knees.
Dorian had caught the near smile on Reverie's face when it happened.
The streets were quiet when they strode through. Dorian had held his head high, his back straight as they walked, allowing his eyes to haze over with the weight of the herb he'd also smoked that morning.
When they reached the stadium, Dorian had wasted no time in moving from beneath the shadows of the fabric canopy and out into the brightness of the sun. He'd not felt direct sunlight in a few days as it had been cloudy, and the warmth of it on his skin filled his insides with a familiar comfort.
