Kiva’s hand flew to Sinvarra, and I seized her wrist a second before she could draw. The room went deathly silent, until only the thunder of my own heart filled my ears.Okornwere what the Korovi called children of banished countrymen.
My voice dropped low enough that only we could hear. “Speak to Kiva that way again, and I’ll put an arrow in you.”
Ericen grinned, actuallygrinned, as though my threat enthralled him. “That’s not quite what I brought you here for.” And with that, he spun for a glass door in the windowed wall, as if the floor hadn’t very nearly been coated in blood.
Releasing Kiva’s wrist, I watched him go, trying to fit together the pieces of him I’d seen. He wasn’t the boy I’d ridden with in the carriage, trying and failing at civility, nor was he the cruel prince I’d hated in Rhodaire. His flippant comments were like a reflex, as though he’d spent his entire life snapping back and didn’t know how to stop.
Kiva’s gaze drifted to where Auma was piling dishes at an empty table, some of her frustration ebbing. I hid a smile as I said, “I’ll be fine if you want to wait here.”
A very uncharacteristic blush turned her cheeks pink, and she nodded, likely all too happy to go anywhere Ericen wasn’t.
I followed the prince, catching the gaze of one of the soldiers near the fireplace: the boy who’d commented on my scars at dinner. He smiled dangerously. I smiled back until he looked away with a scowl.
The door led out into the courtyard, immediately surrounding me in biting air. I folded my arms over my chest for warmth. Ericen didn’t even seem to notice the chill as he led the way into a massive training area.
There were several distinct sections, from open arenas to archery targets, sword training to endurance courses. Soldiers trained in each one, shouts and the clangs of metal echoing in the courtyard.
On the far side, an open door revealed the empty healer’s quarters. Estrel had once said that Illucian soldiers looked down on healers. Apparently, getting treatment for a wound was akin to throwing your honor into the dirt and stomping on it. It would take a severe injury for soldiers to willingly subject themselves to treatment.
“Saints,” I breathed.
“These are the royal training grounds,” Ericen said. “If you think this is a bit much, you should see the ones at Darkward.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to. There was something about the swift efficiency of every soldier wherever I looked that made me uneasy. No matter their task, they completed it with the utmost power and skill, driving arrows into targets or pinning their opponents without mercy.
The ones who weren’t training stared at us, some with open fascination, some with suspicion. It was the ones who looked disgusted that made me bristle though. Ericen noticed them too, though from the way his expression changed, it seemed he thought they were looking at him. He stared them down, his eyes like jagged ice, until they looked away. He didn’t relax.
“Anyway, I wanted to show you in case you and Kiva wanted to train,” he said, his voice a little tighter now. “It’ll be pretty busy with people training for the upcoming Centerian.”
I stiffened. “The sword tournament?”
He nodded, and the morning chill permeated my skin. The Centerian only occurred every five years. Illucia’s most dangerous fighters would descend on Sordell to participate in the test of strength and skill. The renown for winning the tournament was unprecedented.
And here I’d thought Illucia couldn’t get any more dangerous.
“Also, I was thinking we could skip dinner tonight and go into town.” Ericen’s voice drew me from thoughts of ice-cold eyes and glinting steel.
“Yes.” My eagerness surprised me as much as Ericen, but I already needed a break from Razel. Kiva had said she was impressed at how I’d handled myself last night, but I still wasn’t Caliza. I couldn’t promise I wouldn’t let a few choice words slip. Or a knife.
“I’ll send someone for you this evening then.”
I nodded, turning to go, and almost ran smack into a black wall. My hand went reflexively to my bow as I stepped back, finding two men in Vykryn uniforms blocking my path. The one in the front smiled—the boy from dinner. He was near my age, broad shouldered but lean with blond hair and royal-blue eyes.
My guard shifted, on edge. Then the soldiers parted, revealing Razel approaching.
I stiffened. The smell of burnt flesh, a flash of fire, Kiva yelling—Stop.I couldn’t lose myself in bloody memories every time I saw her.
The training grounds quieted as soldiers saluted. Ericen stiffened, his attention jumping from the blond Vykryn to his mother. Razel drew to a halt before us, cold eyes focused on me. She wore a gilded version of a Vykryn’s uniform, her rose-gold hair pulled back in a tight braid and weapons strapped to her back.
“Thia dear, I see you’ve found the training grounds. If you’d like, I could have one of our masters tutor you.”
The blond Vykryn snorted amusedly.
My nails dug into my palms. “I’ve already been trained by the best.”
A smile curled her lips. “In that case, perhaps we could spar? Illucian skill versus Rhodairen…determination.” She said the last word slowly, the unsaid message clear:At least you try.
Logic told me to say no. Razel was the queen of Illucia, the leader of a warrior kingdom. Caliza’d said she had won the Centerian at barely a few years older than me. But at the same time, I longed for the chance to take out the anger and hatred boiling in the pit of my stomach. Even if I only got one blow in, it would be worth it.
