“No weapons,” Barto said, rolling his neck.
Raithe acknowledged the request.
“I hate when he does this,” Felaf grumbled. “We’re not supposed to remove our rings.”
My breath lodged in my throat as I admired Raithe’s cutting physique. “Makes sense Barto would want a fist fight. I imagine Raithe is partial to those blades he carries everywhere.”
Felaf nodded. “The Athenian blades are some of the oldest weapons known to exist. No one knows what exactly they’re made of, but they can tear through anything. I’d kill to hold them one day, but only the winner of the Elemental Tournament can possess them.”
Raithe and Barto circled each other, fists raised. I’d seen plenty of brawls at the Stinky Boot, but never a formalized one. I didn’t know what to expect other than a sure defeat at Raithe’s hand.
Barto attacked first. Raithe dodged it with ease. Barto tried again, his savage punches unhinged. Raithe deflected, refusing to engage unless it was on his own terms. Finally, Raithe jammed his fists into Barto’s lower back. Barto growled and charged again. Raithe leapt away from his attacks. His footwork reminded me of a dance, passionate and instinctive. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, tall and lithe with enough muscle tomake him dangerous. Even without his talisman, Raithe was formidable.
“What a shame he’s a Chosen.” One of the maids sighed dreamily along the railing. “Look at thatbody.”
“I wonder what it’s like to bed a Chosen,” another gushed. “Especially guardians. I’ve heard they feel pleasure more intensely.”
“Imagine how well they give it.”
“Not Raithe,” the third maid complained. “He’s heartless, that one. He never says anything when I wave at him. He doesn’t evenlookat me. I’m convinced he’s not attracted to women, otherwise he and I would have already?—”
“That’s enough,” I snapped at them. “Show some respect, you’re talking about a Chosen.”
They scrambled from the ledge and gasped. It was the first time I’d interacted with any of them, not recalling their names.
“Apologies, Lady Novah,” one said.
“Yes, we are so sorry, Princess,” another echoed.
The third remained pointedly quiet.
I glared at her. She was the one who had called Raitheheartless. “Don’t just stand there. I assume you have better things to do this morning?”
With reddened faces, they reluctantly bowed their heads before skittering away.
“Erm, a bit harsh?” Felaf muttered at my side.
“What? They wereoglinghim. It was disrespectful.”
Felaf’s stare burned my cheek as I returned my attention to the match. My own body heated when I found Raithe watchingme. My fingers dug into the arms of the chair.
Barto seized the moment and slammed into Raithe’s face. I gasped as the force sent his head whipping to the right. Raithe remained unmoving as Barto swung and punched him in the opposite direction.
“Why isn’t he fighting back?” I stood to see better. “Barto may eclipse him in size, but even without his powers he’s still?—”
“Faster? Smarter?”
“Yes! So why?—”
“Why does he do anything he does?” Felaf asked exasperatedly. “He won’t train with me or Alekko, but he’ll waste his time doingthis.”
Barto wound up for another punch. Instead of jumping to avoid the blow, Raithe stood there with his fists slightly raised as though he could somehow absorb Barto’s impending power.
“Barto doesn’t seem like the type of person to accept a pity win,” I said as Barto’s fist pummeled through Raithe’s defensive stance and met his jaw. This time, the blow sent Raithe stumbling backwards. Red gushed from his nose. I winced at the sight.
“He’s not. But Barto is all brawn and no brain.”
“He’s riling him up on purpose,” I observed, hating everything about this. “Why?”
