Gerard nodded. “I will.”
Then Duke Albert spoke, “Someone as beautiful as Prince Elias should be with someone handsome. He shouldn’t be wasted on someone with a face like that.”
His voice was not drowned out by the crowd.
Prince Gerard tensed. Princess Senta’s head whipped around. She took a step towards Duke Albert.
But Gerard’s hand shot out and gripped her wrist. “Leave it,” he said, voice low and measured. “Just leave it.”
“I’d satisfy the lightning prince far more than a disfigured prince.” Duke Albert let out a bark of laughter.
Elias’s hands twitched. Suddenly he wished Voltaria and Draconia were still at war. He had a sudden urge to kill one more dragon.
Chapter
Twenty-Two
Gerard gritted his teeth. But he kept his gaze ahead.
“Poor Prince Elias.” Did Albert realise how his voice carried? And wasn’t his future husband standing right beside him?
His cousin had never mocked Gerard in earshot before, at least not knowingly. Was he drunk? High on adrenaline from his previous victories? Gerard had never realised the level of animosity Albert held towards him until this peace assembly.
Elias didn’t turn to face Albert, but his head angled ever so slightly towards him. Clearly, he could hear. As did so many around them. In fact, many fell silent, listening to Albert talk.
“Initially, I was toldI’dmarry the lightning prince,” Albert said. “But then for some reason, he ended up engaged to Gerard instead!” He made a noise of disgust. “It’s such a pity.” He spat the words. “Such a shame!”
Gerard hadn’t known that. Had Elias? If he didn’t before, he knew now.
Did Prince Elias wish he was betrothed to Duke Albert instead of him? Surely he must.
Of course, Elias, who dressed in elaborate finery, sparkling jewels, and perfect make-up, wouldn’t want someone who looked like Gerard. Right now, the lightning prince wore white and pastel-purple robes with gold embroidery and a gold belt that cinched it together. His lips shone, and his eyelids shimmered. Gold sparkled in his ears. Around his throat amethysts and more gold glittered.
This man was revolted by dull, scratchy robes. Surely Gerard must revolt him too. Naturally he would prefer Albert over Gerard. Even if Albert was a pathetic prat.
Still, Gerard kept his gaze forward. He’d not engage. He’d teach Albert a lesson on the battlefield.
The herald blew her trumpet. “We now have the final battle between Prince Gerard and Duke Albert. The winner will be the champion of the Tournament of Dragons.”
Cries and cheers filled the air.
“Prepare yourselves,” the herald yelled.
Gerard took off his eye patch and robe, handing them to Elias without meeting his gaze. But he could see Elias looking over his body. Now Elias could see all Gerard’s scars up close. His skin felt flayed bare.
Breathing heavily, Gerard stalked away.
“Wait!” Elias called out when he’d taken a few steps.
Gerard paused. He hesitated and then glanced back. Elias strode towards him. Gerard frowned.
What’s he doing?
The crowd quietened. All watched Elias, seeming just as curious as Gerard. As far as Gerard knew, none of the other partners had walked out onto the battlefield today.
Elias paused by his side, forcing Gerard to turn and face him. As if Elias wanted everyone tosee them in clear profile.
Then Elias reached out. He took Gerard’s hands in his. “My dear dragon warrior,” he said, voice loud enough to carry to those by the field and perhaps even reach the first couple of rows in the grandstand.
