That warmth on my cheeks goes nowhere. “I was stupid,” I say. “I fell for his lies.”
“I don’t know if I like the idea of someonestupidlooking after my niece.”
Fury swells in my chest, and my fingernails press into my palms so hard that I might be drawing blood. “Then perhaps you should address the queen regarding her choice.”
Verin’s eyebrows go up, and she smiles, but nothing about it is reassuring. She takes a step back, gesturing for me to follow her. “Come on.”
I hesitate, but there’s a part of me that hopes I’ll get a chance to punchhernow, so I follow.
I get my wish. “Strike me,” she says. “The same way you struck Alek.”
Fine. I’ll show her a good strike. I swing a fist.
My hubris catches up with me. I should have considered the battle I witnessed when we walked in here. She blocks my arm and then shoves me in the shoulder, knocking me back a step.
“Again,” she says.
I swing again. Another easy block, but this time she smacks her palm against my jaw. It’s harder than a slap, quick and sudden and stinging. I stumble back, a hand to my cheek. I don’t think anyone has ever hit me in the face before.
Verin is looking at me disdainfully. “That’s all it takes? Again.”
“How is this teaching me anything?” I demand.
“It’s teachingmethat if someone wants to kidnap the princess, all they must do is tap you on the cheek.”
I grit my teeth, take a step forward, and swing again.
Another block, another smack in the face. This one is harder.
“Stop it!” I snarl.
“If you don’t like it, figure out how to block,” she says. “Were you and Alek lovers?” When I scowl, she keeps going. “Did he put his hand between your legs and make you his little puppet?”
I don’t know what to say, but my cheeks are suddenly onfire.
She strides forward, and I can tell she’s going to smack me again, so I dart forward and try to punch her.
She dodges—and her fist ends up in my stomach. I see stars and fall to my knees. At first, I can’t remember how to inhale, but then Ido, and it’s awful. Breath scrapes into my lungs, and I’m dry heaving in the dust of the arena. One hand is braced against the ground, and the other is clenched across my belly. I think I’m drooling in the dirt.
“Were you lovers?” she asks again.
I can’t speak yet, so I shake my head vigorously.
“Alek looked at you like a lover.”
My heart stutters and I hate it. “No,” I gasp. “He didn’t.”
“Get up.”
“If I get up I’m going to kill you.”
She laughs as if that’s truly amusing. “You’re welcome to try.”
I’m embarrassed and infuriated and terrified, but I launch myself off the ground with a shout of rage. My fury makes for a good ally, because she can’t account for the full force of my weight. When I tackle her, she falls back to one knee—but I’m no fighter, and she is. Verin wrestles free, and I draw back a fist to punch her in the jaw.
She’s too good, too quick. She throws a strike right inside of mine. My shoulders hit the ground before I realize she’s hit me square in the nose. My vision is full of spots, my eyes stinging with tears. I can taste blood. My body jolts like someone has kicked me in the belly, but I don’t know which way is up, so I can’t be sure.
“Nolla Verin!” a male voice snaps from a distance. I wonder if it’s that general. “Enough.”
