He batted me aside as easy as one might swat a fly. I stumbled forward, righted my footing, and whirled again. He walked a lazy circle around me, hardly bothering to raise his blade at all.
“I didn’t want to hurt her,” I ground out through gritted teeth, hating that I was telling him this, hating that I was telling him anything at all.
“And yet, you did,” he mused, raising his blade as his glare narrowed. “As you always do.”
I rushed him again but he met each of my furious blows in turn, batting them aside and landing one of his own. I hissed in pain as I backed away, red blooming from the new gash in my left shoulder. Roman stepped forward, once, toward the circle. I held up my good arm to stop him. He halted.
“I would tell you to stay away from her,” the general drawled once again, confidence oozing from his tone, “but you’ve proven yourself to be a rather shit listener. Besides, it’s her choice what to do with you. She’s entitled to that at least.”
“So, what? This is just you kicking my ass to teach me a lesson.”
“This is me kicking your ass because I can and because she won’t. Gods know why but she’s not prone to violence around you, Betrayer.”
“She loves me.”
The field fell deathly silent. I’d spoken a bit louder that time, so much so that I wasn’t certain if the men beyond the circle had heard. The general certainly had and I swore that raging infernobehind his eyes intensified tenfold. He slowly lowered his head and glared so hard at me I thought it might burn. Then he uttered one word that reached into the shattered corners of my heart and twisted the knife.
“Loved.”
I ran at him screaming. He met me with a growl. Our blades rang so loud I thought it might shatter glass. They met, again and again, creating such a clamor the men around the circle stepped back. I howled as I swung, aiming for any piece of him I could get. A hand, an arm, his head. I didn’t care if I killed him. Iwantedto kill him. And he seemed to feel the same about me.
Suddenly, our blades locked and he swept up. My sword went flying to the side, sending men skittering out of its way. The general stormed toward me, holding his weapon outward as I scrambled furiously backward. I was unarmed and he was furious. He was going to kill me.
Then he stopped. Chest heaving, long hair swinging, jaw clenching, he simply stopped. I gaped at him for a moment before his gaze flicked down to my feet. I followed to find I’d stepped out of the circle.
The general tossed his sword down and took the final few steps toward me. I tensed as he reached me but held my ground. I wasn’t going to run from him. Not in front of all these guards, not before the Captain who’d finally agreed to train me. I held my head high as he stopped a foot away and leaned in, whispering so only I could hear the threat he made.
“The next time you hurt her, Betrayer, there will be no painted circle to save you.”
Then he turned and strode off, keeping his back to me in a show of disrespect as he slammed his sword back onto the rack and barked an order for his men to follow him back inside the palace. As the group split off and made their way after theirleader, I clenched my fists, catching my breath as rage coursed through me.
“He’s an asshole,” someone said from beside me and I locked my jaw as I turned away from Roman.
I stormed toward the weapons rack myself, shoving my own sword in and cursing.
“You want to tell me what that was about?” the captain asked from my side, having followed me over. “It seemed personal.”
“It was nothing,” I snapped. “He’s just an asshole, like you said. Doesn’t like me and wanted to embarrass me or teach me a lesson or whatever.”
Roman nodded but I saw the suspicion in his eyes as he turned away to continue working with the rest of the group. He didn’t believe me. I couldn’t blame him, of course. I had lied. Because he was right on both counts. The generalwasan asshole and thiswaspersonal.
Chapter Forty-Two
Adrian
“You will fall. And when you do, you will finally see your own tyranny.”
— Last Words of Third Ringer Abel Baker, the Last to be Executed before the Uprising of 1899, Sentenced for Treason
Isat up from the mountain of pillows upon my bed to find my servant entering my room, a plate piled with sweet pastries and juicy fruits in her hands. I gave her a tired smile as she set it beside my bed and then noticed the man who’d followed her in. That explained the warning in her eyes.
“My apologies, Lady Adrian,” the man spoke primly, properly.
I recognized the voice at once and pulled my sheets up to cover the lace undergarments I’d slept in after fighting with my gown half the night.
“I'll be happy to wait in the foyer until you make yourself presentable in any way you wish,” Prince Leo said. “I can even adjourn to the hall if you would prefer—"
“No, that’s fine,” I babbled quickly, motioning for assistance from my servant. “Just one moment.”
