“Fire!”
My eyes snapped open, lifting the bow to aim and fire within half a second.
The arrows around me whistled through the air.
Mine hit dead center.
I took a step back from the line, stretching out my stiff limbs, my hands calming for the first time.I could never let another episode affect me like that.I had to be stronger than the memory, and it needed to stop.
But even though I tried to act like it was nothing and I could overcome it, I knew the nightmares would return.That was why I had to find Richard Athello, take his ring, then assassinate the king.It was the only way I could be done with this once and for all.
––––––––
ITOOK SECOND PLACEin the archery competition, only going up to two hundred and fifty yards.Winning first would have been easy, but second place offered me a lower profile.A few of the competitors dipped their heads in respect, but no one approached to congratulate me.Multiple investors and high-ranking nobles surrounded the man who walked away with the first-place prize.
For me, the archery competition hadn’t been about alliances.It had been a means to occupy my time and make acquaintances, although no one I had spoken with proved to be of any consequence.Every person I had asked about the man with the opal ring shook their head apologetically.Athello was a popular surname, but without anything else to go on, they were all unable to direct me to the correct family branch.If he wasn’t a member of the nobility, I would have to enmesh with the lower classes to gain any valuable information.
The dying rays of sunlight stretched out on the canvas of their sky, causing competitions to wrap up or bring the final tournaments inside.Torchlight filled the palace grounds, the attendees moving across the shadowed lawn like dark waves on the ocean.I picked my way through the crowd to the main ballroom where the final rounds of the fencing tournament had begun.
I unstrung my bow, untwisting the two pieces from the main branch until I could safely tuck it away in its pack and throw the strap over my shoulder.The collapsible style made it easier to smuggle into places it wouldn’t be allowed.
I grabbed another glass of raspberry lemonade before wandering over to an older gentleman watching from a platform around the outer edge of the festivities.He smiled up at me as I sat down, attention quickly drawn back to the duel he was watching.King Zaricor lounged across the aisle from us.A woman with intricate braids in her hair, smooth brown skin, and gorgeous golden eyes—not his wife—hung on his arm.More than one man performed a double take as they passed by.The king was not a faithful man, and he bore no shame in displaying that fact.
“Have they narrowed down the brackets yet?”I asked the older gentleman.
“There are four competitors left,” he said.“After this round they’ll have the last with the two finalists.”
I took a sip of my drink.“And who is competing?”
“In the first ring we have a Haskelle warrior pitted against one of the nobility’s sons, and in the second ring we have Prince Valeris and the crown prince of Ingon.”
The cocky prince of Paravellia.No doubt he had bribed his way into the final round.
“Are any of them good?”I asked.
“Oh, they are all excellent, but I believe this competition will end between His Highness and the Haskelle warrior.”
“The prince is well accomplished, then?”
He quirked an eyebrow as if I had asked him if the sky was blue.“Oh, Prince Valeris is a masterful swordsman, trained by three of the finest sword masters I have ever met.That’s one of Paravellia’s best available trades—military leaders sent to train other kingdoms’ armies in our ways in exchange for other goods or services.”
I fixed my gaze back on the arena, the final four opponents taking up their places.Prince Valeris wore the purple of Paravellia and wielded a specially crafted longsword.Light reflected off the steel of the blade and the rubies encrusted in the tarnished silver of the hilt.
Valeris’s attention was focused, his stance open.The moderator gave the final call and both parties circled the other.I kept my gaze trained on the Paravellian prince, curious if he was as good as this man claimed.He moved with a casual gait, confidence oozing from each step he took.His opponent attacked first, Valeris easily deflecting the attack.He took the offense next, bringing his blade down from one direction and then feinting in the other.His opponent anticipated the move and blocked it.Valeris performed a double feint, ending up on the opposite side of him.The other man twisted, stopping a second attack and then quickly trying to remove himself from the defense.Valeris moved around him, darting in and out.Their movements were like a dance, constantly circling one another, breaking apart then coming together.
The longer they spent fighting, the more disjointed their synchronization became.Their blows grew more agitated and intense, backed by strength.I found myself scooting forward on my seat for a closer look.I had watched thousands of duels in the tower throughout my training, but this swordsmanship was different.As assassins, we were taught to deflect and kill.These princes had been taught the art of the sword.
Valeris pulled an overhanded trick and disarmed his opponent, the tip of his sword pressing against his neck.
The crowd burst into cheers, the noise deafening.
I noted that Lord Eyreling had his eye trained on Valeris while his own Haskelle warrior was fending off his opponent.
“You were right, they are excellent,” I said.“Have you been a member of the court for long?”
“I have attended the last nine of the Paravellian Balls,” he said.“Witnessed the split of the southern kingdoms, the fall of the Frasha Empire.I have been around a long time, child.”
A sense of comfort settled in my chest, as if I were speaking with my grandfather again, who had passed when I was a little girl.
