“So,” Berith said, stepping down from the dais.“What now?Your army is dealing with my people, and the demons you snuck into the tunnels are being hunted as we speak.Are you going to retreat and try again later, or are you ready to finally put an end to all of this?”
If Ramiel was surprised by Berith’s words, he didn’t show it.“One of us dies today, and it won’t be me.”
Berith nodded.“Winner takes the territory, loser dies.”
“Agreed.”
The words hit Roque as if someone had punched him.His prince might be about to die, and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.
“Berith,” he whispered.
Yakim reached out and squeezed Roque’s arm.They both knew they couldn’t intervene.The only thing theycoulddo was be ready for whatever happened.If Ramiel won, they’d need to leave the throne room as soon as possible to get Berith’s family to safety.
“No interference, no quarter given or asked,” Berith said as he looked around the throne room.“Everyone present serves as witness.”
Roque wanted to object, but he understood.A quick victory here could end the war in minutes instead of months.This was the only way.
And if anyone could win a duel against Ramiel, it was Berith.
“Clear the center of the room,” Berith ordered.
Everyone moved back, creating a circle in the middle of the throne room.The polished stone floor was about to get dirty.
Both princes stripped off their upper bodies.Berith’s lean frame looked almost small next to Ramiel’s bulk, but Roque had seen the prince fight before.He’d even fought the prince himself.Berith was fast, and that would help against Ramiel’s heavier body.Ramiel would have power on his side, but that didn’t mean he’d win.
“Any last words?”Ramiel asked.
“Try not to bleed on my floor,” Berith replied.
They circled each other for a moment.Ramiel moved in powerful and direct gestures, while Berith was smoother, his sword seeming light in his hand when Roque knew it was anything but.
The first clash came without warning.Ramiel swept his sword toward Berith’s stomach.Berith stepped closer to him, sliding his sword along Ramiel’s to block it, the sound of metal against metal loud in the room.
They separated, neither drawing blood—for now.
Roque forced himself to remain still, his hands clenched into fists by his sides.Every instinct screamed at him to intervene, but Ramiel would use that against Berith.All Roque could do was watch and trust that Berith could win.
The second clash was faster and more violent.Ramiel pushed forward with a series of heavy moves from his sword.Berith parried, and Roque could tell that he was looking for an opening.
He found it when Ramiel opened his side on his next swing.Berith’s word flicked out faster than Roque could follow, cutting a line across Ramiel’s forearm.Blood beaded, bright red even on Ramiel’s crimson skin.
Ramiel reacted instantly, backhanding Berith across the jaw, sending him stumbling back.Ramiel didn’t stop moving.He aimed his sword at Berith’s neck, fury distorting his expression.Berith moved his sword up just in time.The impact was loud and pushed him down to one knee, and for a terrifying moment, Roque thought that Ramiel was about to win the fight.
But Berith twisted, sending Ramiel stumbling past him.He got to his feet quickly, even though he was favoring his left side.Dammit.He was hurt.
“Broken rib?”Ramiel asked as if he and Berith were discussing the weather.
“I’m perfectly fine,” Berith lied.
He wasn’t done yet.He hadn’t been defeated, and hopefully, he wouldn’t be.
They moved again, and Roque could see the difference in the way Berith moved.He was slower and was obviously trying to protect his wounded side, which wasn’t helping him.
Ramiel saw it too.His attacks became more targeted, forcing the prince back.Sweat beaded on Berith’s forehead, but he continued to stop each and every one of Ramiel’s attacks.He couldn’t afford to fail or to let his guard down, not yet—not until Ramiel was dead.
The throne room was dead silent except for the sound of the swords clashing and the hard breathing of Berith and Ramiel.Roque felt like he’d stopped breathing.
Then Ramiel lunged, sliding the tip of his sword between Berith’s ribs.Roque sucked in a breath as he watched Berith twist out of the way.He didn’t think that the cut was deep enough to be fatal, but it was enough for blood to spatter across the floor.Berith stumbled backward, his free hand pressed against the wound.
