But he does, too.
I sigh and tug at the bow I’ve strung over my shoulder. “Can you shoot?”
Prince Rhen frowns. “Yes, of course.”
Yes, of course.Clouds above, I will never get used to the casual arrogance of the nobility. But I set my jaw and nod at the darkened window. “Maybe the soldiers wouldn’t spar with you, but I’ll shoot with you. Next time you see us on the fields, don’t sit in here and envy it. Get your horse and bring your bow.”
CHAPTER 40
CALLYN
My head feels like it’s full of secrets. Is something happening between the king and Tycho? He helped the queen in Briarlock—but now he’s moved to another part of the palace. The queen hasn’t asked to speak with him, and I know she’s still not speaking to the king.Somethinghas changed, however. There seem to be more guards every time I turn a corner. When I return to the Crystal Palace after my outings with Alek, I spy twice as many guards with crossbows along the roof, too. And while I was seeing King Grey when he came to visit little Sinna in the mornings, days have passed, and I’ve only seen him on the training fields.
Lady Delmetia Calo said they weren’t planning a war, but there’s so much tension here that it pricks at me anytime I walk through the halls. I’ve begun to look forward to my traveling with Alek, just for the chance to escape it.
But visiting the Royal Houses takes time, and I begin to miss my training, sometimes in the morning with Lord Jacob, and more often, the evening sessions with Nolla Verin. After I miss two in a row, aservant brings me a message during dinner that Verin will be waiting in the arena when I finish my meal.
My stomach clenches, and my appetite vanishes. As weird as it is to sit and sip tea with Lord Alek and all the influential people in the Crystal City, it’s been rather nice to go to bed without letting someone break my nose or crack a rib first.
When I reach the arena, Verin isn’t alone. She seems to be engaged in a rather tense match with a dark-haired young soldier wearing Emberfall’s colors. The sound of their swords colliding rings through the space, and this battle seems more brutal than normal. I’ve seen her fight before, but I’m not sure I’ve ever seen hersweatbefore. Tendrils of hair have come loose from her braids, and they stick to her cheeks. Her opponent is relentless, his dark eyes fierce.
I’ve never seen Verin fight with an Emberish soldier, and it occurs to me that the ruthless nature of this battle might mean somethingmore—that perhaps this is a real fight, not an exercise.
A man speaks from the shadows down near the corner, calling something in Emberish that I can’t understand. To my surprise, it’s Lord Tycho, and he’s casually leaning against the arena railing, watching the match. I haven’t seen him since the day Nora and I ran into him in the hallway.
Verin doesn’t spare him a glance, but she snaps back at him in Syssalah. “I don’t need your help, Tycho.”
It might be the first time I’ve heard her sound frustrated in a fight. I shouldn’t enjoy it, but I do.
I walk along the railing to where Tycho is standing, and he glances over. “Callyn,” he says in surprise.
“She’s going to do that to me next,” I say. “I just won’t be able to get up.”
He winces. “That bad?”
I shrug and lean against the railing beside him to watch. “Usually.”
“I’ve seen you on the field with the recruits a few times,” he says. “You move really well. It’s just a matter of time before you can do that.” He nods at the battle in front of us, where the Emberish soldier deflects one of Verin’s blows, then gets inside her left guard to drive a fist into the vulnerable spot at her waist, right below her armor. She falters, recoiling, and she’s fast enough to get out of his way—but barely. They break apart, both breathing hard.
Tycho calls something else in Emberish, and the soldier surges forward, blade raised.
“Stop helping!” Verin snaps, and Tycho laughs under his breath.
“What did you say?” I ask him.
“I told Mal not to let her recover too long. Earlier, I told her to stop dropping her left guard. You saw she didn’t listen.”
His words are so casual, but they’re sparking emotion in my chest, and it takes a moment for me to figure out why. For all the time I’ve spent in the arena or on the fields, no one has ever spoken to me with this kind of . . . ?solidarity before. Like I’m just another soldier. I’ve always been my mother’s daughter, left behind to run the bakery, or Nora’s big sister, left with too much responsibility. Or to hear Verin tell it, little Sinna’s nanny, lacking in determination and grit.
But here’s Tycho, saying things like,You move really wellandYou saw she didn’t listen, like it’s nothing.
The swords clash hard, and the Emberish soldier swears, then redoubles his attacks. Tycho winces again.
“Does he hate her?” I say.
He snorts. “Malin? No. He’s practically in love with her.” I make a face before I can stop myself, and Tycho bursts out laughing. “You’reclearly not,” he adds.
“Out of here!” Verin snaps. “No more distractions.”
