He folded his arms over his broad chest, the movement pulling his black tunic even tighter. “You agreed to fulfill the prophecy, didn’t you? Kind of sounds like signing up if you ask me, Fea Remia.”
“Stop calling me that,” I demanded, pushing my wild hair out of my face in frustration. “My name is Rain. Not Raynella. Not princess. Not princepa. And definitely not whatever the hell ‘Fea Remia’ is. Why is it so fucking hard for people here to get that? And for the record, you guys brought me here against my will and basically forced my hand with all this prophecy crap. So back. The fuck. Off.” I jabbed his chest hard on the last words toensure I got my point across. His boorish behavior was getting really old, really fast.
His scathing glare bounced right off me as I waited for him to decide on whatever snarky comeback he’d go with this time. He must have been tired because he just yanked the door open and disappeared down a steep staircase that led into a suffocating, inky darkness.
I only hesitated a moment before plunging in after him.
Once we hit the bottom of the stairs, flickering wall sconces every few yards illuminated the space, and I could make out an old tunnel with a mild downward slope.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“This leads to the arena,” he replied without stopping. “You slipped on several steps yesterday so I figured you’d prefer this route. Though if you’re scared of a few cobwebs we can turn around.”
I didn’t know which surprised me more. The fact that he noticed my struggles, or the fact that he even cared enough to go a different way.
“No,” I said quickly. “This is better.” I watched his retreating back for a second then raced after him. “Thanks,” I said, matching his stride as best I could. “I appreciate it.”
Sin scoffed. “Don’t go thinking any pretty thoughts about me, Fea Remia. I’m still the same asshole.”
I groaned internally. It felt like every time he did something nice, he had to immediately act like a jerk to counteract it. I just wished he would pick a personality and stick with it.
I nearly crashed into Sin’s back as I found him standing just inside the weapons room, unmoving. He growled something in Rivellan and moved to stand in front of a rack of weapons at theback wall. The assortment of plain swords hung in their usual place, but it was the empty wall mount above them that Sin was staring at.
“Examenti!” he cursed, whipping his head around to scan the room frantically.
I took a step back. “Um, what’s wrong?” I asked, innocently.
“My sword is missing,” he growled, kicking a rack of maces and sending them scattering across the floor. I jumped back before one of the pointy weapons hit my foot. “Sorry,” he bit out, running a hand angrily through his hair. “I just need to find it. It was supposed to be cleaned yesterday, and I assumed the soldier would return it here after.”
Panic contorted his face in an all too familiar expression, and an arrow of guilt struck me hard. I had thought it would be funny stealing his sword. I’d watch as he got all red-faced and grumbly, maybe stomp around a bit. But this? He seemed genuinely worried, and I didn’t like it as much as I thought I would.
“It’s probably just still being cleaned,” I suggested.
“No, if that were the case then it would be here.” He pointed at a cabinet in the corner of the room. “That’s where we keep all the supplies. I should have made sure it was returned last night but I was…”
His voice cut off, and I filled in the blank. Distracted. He was distracted because of me.
“Maybe they left it in your room? I’m sure it’ll turn up. Plus we don’t need swords anyways. I was thinking we could focus on self-defense today.”
“No,” he muttered, brushing past me as he exited the room. “I need to find it now. Training can wait.”
I saw my opportunity to actually learn anything slipping away, and before I could stop myself I blurted out, “Sin, wait. I might know where it is.”
Every muscle in his body went rigid. Slower than I had ever seen him move, he turned around.
“What did you say?” he asked, his face scarily neutral.
I gulped. I had wanted this, to punish him for thinking he could push me around. I couldn’t show weakness.
“Nothing,” I said coyly, pretending to examine a shelf of wicked-looking daggers.
“Rain…” he warned, and I could see him out of the corner of my eye moving closer, like a tiger stalking its prey.
I couldn’t help the sharp laugh that escaped. “Now you use my name? I didn’t know all it took was your toy going missing to knock some sense into you.”
He didn’t stop his forward progression. “Where is my sword,” he demanded in a low tone that promised violence, pain, and other dark things I shouldn't be thinking about.
I wiped every trace of emotion from my face and tossed my messy hair behind my shoulder. “How would I know? I can barely lift it, remember?”
