Of course, injuries were expected. This was a dragonbattle, after all. But there was an attempt to avoid serious harm. Around the field, healer doves stood, ready to step in and use their healing skills and magic to treat the dragons once the battle was done.
Senta and Dorothye spiralled through the air, Senta’s teeth and claws biting deep. Using her body weight, Senta managed to rotate them so she was the one on top. Dorothye slammed into the ground. The earth trembled.
Releasing her claws and teeth, Senta flew up, circling the field, roaring and spewing dragonfire now that the battle was over. Applause thundered.
Senta had won. Dorothye had hit the ground first.
Gerard clapped. Dorothye shifted, and the healer monks ran out to see to her.
Once finished celebrating, Senta landed, shifted, and took a robe from a servant. She ran off the field at the same moment Gerard reached the area in front of the grandstand.
“Gerard! Did you see? I won!” Senta called out.
“I did. Congratulations!” Gerard clapped her on the back. “I had no doubt you would win.”
“And Luther won his battle too!” She smiled.
There had been some suggestion that Luther should sit out the tournament, since he’d recently suffered an injury to his leg during the fight against Warden Flint. But Luther had protested. It seemed he’d been right to.
“What about Konrad?” Gerard asked. “How’d he do?”
“He won. Which means he fights me next.” Her eyes glinted. She pointed at Gerard. “But all three of us have won our first rounds, so make sure you don’t lose yours. If you do, you’ll let the family down.” She laughed.
“Don’t worry. I don’t plan to lose.”
Cheeks flushed, her hair disarrayed, Sentaturned towards the grandstand. She waved. The crowd yelled and screamed.
But Senta only had eyes for Lady Elizabeth Juniper, who bounced on her feet, clapping Senta’s victory.
Juniper wore a green velvet dress, her dark curls pulled on top of her head. She stood in a roped-off section before the grandstand, reserved for those betrothed or already married to those competing today. Cushions and chairs were scattered around. Servants provided food and drink.
Beside Juniper stood Elias, watching Gerard. Elias always watched Gerard. Gerard inclined his head in greeting. Elias smiled at him.
Gerard struggled to understand Elias. He’d expected the man to act with disgust at the announcement of their wedding. He’d imagined hostility and outright anger. He’d expected Elias to behave like Luther, so obviously displeased with his future spouse.
But instead Elias had done none of that. He’d smiled and been pleasant and respectful.
However, Gerard couldn’t actually believe that the lightning prince was not disappointed to be marrying him.He is just hiding how he truly feels.
Gerard kept expecting … something. A flippant insult. A rude passive-aggressive comment. Overhearing Elias complain about how ugly Gerard was. Something to reveal how miserable he was to be marrying Gerard.
“I feel sorry for whoever it is he marries.”
Gerard’s hand clenched. Albert’s comments should not have hit like they had. But the words kept echoing in his head. The problem was, Gerard knew many people thought like Albert. And he knew many wouldbe horrified to marry him.
At least Elias hid that feeling. Gerard thought he might have underestimated Prince Elias. Perhaps Eliasreallydid care about doing his duty and ensuring the peace treaty succeeded. He’d been unable to fight in the war. Perhaps he wanted to prove himself now.
And that was a good thing. So they’d get married. Act with decorum and respect. That would be enough.
But will Elias continue to be dedicated to our nuptials once he sees all my scars?
“I’m going to return to my tent. I need to rest and prepare to beat Konrad.” Senta turned and strode in the direction of the tents. “Good luck, Gerard! Don’t let us down!” Then she looked towards Juniper.
The lady ducked beneath the rope that sectioned off the reserved area and walked with Senta. They held hands. Elias watched them go.
What is he thinking?
Gerard looked away and out over the grandstand. His father sat between the queen consort and the necromancer he’d taken an interest in. King Alaric and the necromancer leaned towards each other, engrossed in conversation.
