8
The Storm Command escorts me to the open field beside the assembly area. I carry my wooden weapon across my back and wear gray clothing that will camouflage me against the rocks on Scepter peak. I debated wearing my armor, but I’m going to need to run for a long distance and I haven’t tested it enough to know if it will weigh me down. I’ve timed my arrival at the field so that all of the other champions are already present, accompanied by their advisors. Baelen stands on the far side but I keep away from him. If I show allegiance, it will only make him more of a target.
The champions become quiet as I approach. There are males everywhere. The amount of testosterone in this field right now could fill an ocean.
“Storm Command, separate please.”
My ladies draw apart so that there are gaps I can see through. I need to let the champions know that I mean business. The ones I pass cast me curious glances. They’ve never been this close to me outside the Heartstone Ceremony.
Having just come from the Storm Vault, lightning crackles in the air around me and I don’t try to disguise it, letting it play around my fingertips and torso. It seems like an unfair advantage but so far none of the Houses has complained. I’m guessing they have no idea how much I can control the storm since I’m the first Storm Princess who can.
“Now, now,” Jordan laughs, speaking loudly enough to be heard. “You’re scaring the competition.”
I join her. “They should be afraid. No male will claim me.”
The ones nearest to me jolt, immediately looking to their advisors who give me sharp glances. I don’t know why they’re surprised. My declaration to fight for myself should have told them I’m not aching for a husband.
One of the champions steps forward, forcing my Storm Command to stop. He’s a big gorilla of an elf, shorter than Baelen but broader in the shoulders and chest. He takes up the entire gap between my ladies. I recognize him as Rhydian Valor. Not my favorite House.
He looks me up and down, focusing for too long on the lightning curling around my chest.
I’m up here, you buffoon.
He says, “I like a female with fire in her.”
My ladies bristle, taking up defensive positions, weapons immediately in hand. He doesn’t even acknowledge them.
I narrow my eyes at him “You’ve had a few fiery females already, have you?”
I catch sight of his advisor, hovering in the background. The advisor’s face is slowly turning red.
Rhydian doesn’t blink an eyelid. “Most females like a male with a bit of experience.”
I press my lips together. “Well, I’m not interested in someone else’s leftovers.”
My dislike for him sinks into the silence around us. His advisor appears to be choking beside him, but Rhydian isn’t deterred.
A sly smile creeps across his face. “I’m certain I can change your mind. After all, isn’t that what you want? To be out here so we can all get a taste of you?”
Shock rockets through me. Is that what they think? That I became a champion for the chance to mix with the males? A quick glance around the field confirms my fear. Most of them are giving me the same knowing look as Rhydian.
Only a handful look shocked at the insult he just paid me—Sebastian Splendor is one of them. He angles toward Rhydian, dark anger spreading across his face.
Jordan reacts faster. “How dare you insult the Princess!” With a scream of rage, she launches herself at Rhydian. Her body is a blur as her fist connects with his jaw faster than he can defend himself. Her boot follows it, knocking him off his feet. In the time it takes him to hit the ground, she lands two more blows, lightning fast, the crunches heard above his shout.
Just as fast, she leaps back and away from him, putting a clear few feet between them. There’s a reason she was chosen as the head of my Storm Command and she just showed them all why.
He lands on his butt, thudding to the grass, shaking his head. His muscles bunch as he pushes himself back to his feet. He tests his jaw, snarling at Jordan.
She hasn’t broken a sweat. She stands tall, her hands relaxed at her sides. “Do you want to go again?”
He hesitates, glances at me, and then shakes his head.
“Then stand away from the Princess.”
He steps back, but as Jordan signals for the Storm Command to move forward, he leaps for her, his big hands going straight for her throat. It’s a coward’s move. It takes Jordan the shortest moment to adjust, but it’s long enough to put her in danger.
Silent as a predator, Sebastian Splendor appears beside Rhydian, grabs his outstretched hands, and slides around him, using the other male’s momentum to spin him around and shove him in the opposite direction. Where Jordan’s attack style is allcrunch, Sebastian’s is fluid and seamless.
