Gripping the blade the way I'd been taught, I raised it above my head and charged him.
The Solheart was better than I expected. He blocked my first few strikes, then stepped back to avoid a thrust at his underarm. A few clashes into our bout, I realized both blades were dull.
Shame.
As much as I wanted to lay him on his ass, I couldn't break his defenses. On my final swing, he managed to disarm me, ripping the blade from my grip.
"You're good," he commended, panting. "Even stuck in that travesty of a dress."
The corner of my mouth tugged up into a smile. "Satisfied? Father will cut me into ribbons if he sees us."
"No. Not quite yet." Quinn sheathed his blades and caught his breath. "Ishii's funeral will be held tomorrow. And then his bow will be passed on."
"Who killed him?" I asked. "You never explained what happened."
"I don't know, " Quinn said. He wore a serious expression for the first time since we'd met. "Nothing in the north should be capable of wiping out an entire village, and a Paragon with them."
I didn't know of anything, either. Beyond Forlaith sprawled a desolate, infertile land called the Northern Wastes. From what I'd heard, they were uninhabited by both man and beast.
The thought of a creature—or man—that could kill Ishii and escape unscathed was terrifying.
"And my father?" I asked. "Is there a reason you didn't want him seeing you?"
"I like to hear what people say when they think no one is looking." Quinn's eyes narrowed. "Refugees from a little town down south arrived seeking asylum. They say their home was overrun."
"By the same monsters that took Galasvar?"
"I'd presume.” Quinn tilted his head, beckoning me to follow. "And if they bypassed the border." He glanced back at me. "They'll come here next."
Hiking up my long gown, I followed the Solheart back to the road. Tsuyan looked like a white city of orderly streets from the inside, but it was built in an elaborate star-shaped pattern. Centuries ago, when the world had been broken up into smaller kingdoms that warred amongst themselves, this city had never fallen. It had withstood every siege.
But it had been built to fight off men, not beasts.
I was knocked from my thoughts when I noticed Quinn was leading me through a set of gates and down the promenade of Lord Ishida's manor.
"What are we doing here?" I hissed.
Quinn paused, pointing to the statue of an old man sitting in the yard. "Old Lord Ishida here—your fiancé's ancestor—founded the Shatterblades."
"Yes, I know. What of it?"
He tsked. "Siotha is always kept here when it has no owner. It's an ancient tradition. Do you live in a cave?"
"Prince Ferris asked me that, too." I narrowed my eyes. "Is that some sort of Aenir expression?"
Quinn closed his eyes and ran a hand over them. "Stay with me. Don't speak."
I sewed my mouth shut and followed him to the doors. Ignoring Ishida was my favorite way of dealing with him. My fiancé had an ego—I didn't need to be able to read people to know that. Spend a few minutes pretending he didn't exist, and it drove him into a rage.
Not that he could do anything about it. He'd never gotten me alone and couldn't risk hitting me in front of my father.
Quinn pounded the knocker and stepped back. A maid in a formless blue gown pulled the door open and paled when she saw the Solheart standing on her porch. Bowing deeply, she waited for him to speak.
"I'm in charge of overseeing the new Paragon. May I?"
"Of course." She ushered us inside. "I'll fetch my lord."
Oh, endless seas, no.
