The days felt as if they were slipping away, and I had little progress to show for my efforts. Prince Claudian was unhappy, as he expressed in our written communications. I needed to try harder. I had to find a way to finally connect with her.
With a deep breath, I stepped closer to Seren. My expression schooled into one of concern. “Are you alright?”
My question surprised her, and Seren’s brows raised, unbidden. “Excuse me?”
“I only wondered if you were feeling alright? We’ve been training for days, yet you have not managed more than a droplet of mágik. I am concerned for you.” I hoped my voice sounded sincere to her ears.
It rang oddly in my own.
Her face pinched, somewhere between disbelief and amusement. “Right. If that’s the story you’d like to go with.”
“What does that mean?” I inquired.
“You are not truly concerned for my well being, or I would not be here. If you are worried by my lack of progress, it is entirely for selfish reasons.” Seren stepped closer to me, the water droplet still roving across her long fingers. I tracked the movement loathingly. “It makes you look bad, doesn’t it? So incompetent. Nothing to show for your efforts.”
My jaw clenched, stomach dropping as her words echoed my own thoughts.
She grinned, teeth bared. “I have seen the ravens delivering letters. I can only imagine what they say.”
Seren puffed her chest, voice dropping in imitation of me. She frowned in exaggerated defeat. “Apologies, dear Prince. The woman you have sent me to gather is entirely unwilling to follow my direction. Never before have I encountered such defiance. I am so used to supplicants bowing before my feet. Please, sir, give me guidance on the wings of your swiftest raven. However will I manipulate her into doing as I bid?”
“Stop,” I commanded, struggling to keep the ire from my voice. “That is not… You have not made things easy on me—that much is true—but I don’t expect you to fall to my feet in reverence. I only want you totry.”
“You think I haven’t been trying? Then what is this?” She flicked her finger, and water splashed across my face.
The droplet rolled over the curve of my cheek and dripped off my jaw. I didn’t brush it away, much as I wanted to. “A cheap parlor trick. An infant could do as much. You havenotbeen trying. You have been placating me, but my patience wears thin.”
“Good!” Seren shouted. “I am so fucking tired of you trying to act so prim and proper. You have been a ghost made of pleases andthank yous, but you refuse to say anything you truly think. You are not concerned for me. You do not care what happens to me. You need progress, and yet you do not force it from me. You are weak.”
Those last words rolled off her tongue with such amusement, something snapped within me.
“Youare weak!” I roared, mask cracking at the edges. “Infuriating, stubborn woman.Youneedme.” I laughed, loud and disbelieving. “You’re right. I did ruin your life in Ordelés. You cannot go back—you can only go forward—but if you arrive in Acsilla like this, you will be eaten alive.”
Seren scoffed. We stood toe to toe, faces drawn close in mirrored expressions of fury. “I do not need you. I willneverneed you.”
Rage coursed through me, replacing my blood with something molten.
Was it her anger or my own?
Seren felt everything so deeply. I fought against it at every turn. I sensed her with every breath. But I could not fight it now, not when my own anger latched onto hers and spun utterly out of control.
I drew my blade before she could blink—before I could think better of it. I stalked forwards, forcing her back until her body drew flush with the nearest tree trunk. My hips pinned her in place; my hand raised with waiting power. Her chin tilted up, eyes wide as they bored into mine. I pressed my dagger against the soft skin of her throat before I could get lost in them.
She swallowed hard—surprised at my sudden outburst—and I knew I should stop. I knew there was only hurt down this path, but I chose it anyway.
When I spoke again, my voice was rough. Gravel scraped my throat raw. “You are so ignorant of the world you were born in. Youwould not last a single day on your own. I could kill you before you inhaled a single breath, and I am far from the worst creature in the Varázis Erva. If you do not genuinely embrace your mágik, you will not survive the year.”
Seren pressed against my blade, and it sliced through the delicate skin of her throat. A bead of dark red welled at her neck, blood dripping down to the expanse of her collarbones. “I hope it hurts,” she whispered, “when the Gryffem drag you to the Underworld. I expect you’ll be meeting them soon.”
My flesh lit afire as her dagger slid between my ribs, cutting clean through the meat of me and scraping against bone. I inhaled—sharp and silent—then released it on a groan.
My arm dropped as I pitched forward, and Seren ducked out of my hold. She lashed out again, and I dodged, repositioning my dagger—fingers sticky with my own blood.
We circled each other, breaths heavy and weapons glistening with the blood we had already drawn. It reminded me of our first encounter on the training field, but now, murder filled Seren’s eyes.
She did not care to see me yield.
Seren attacked first, feinting left then ducking low, slicing at my legs. I kicked out, catching the edge of her blade with the thick sole of my boot. She stumbled backwards but managed to maintain her balance.
