11. Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven
Caspian
A ngel, do I despise meeting with Varrick. I grimace, rubbing my palms along the dark pants I’m wearing, failing to remove the memory of Varrick’s sticky, keen touch. The man shakes hands as if it is his royal duty, though I’ve never been enthusiastic about him.
He has served as my father’s chief advisor for years; and though I have not witnessed him being anything other than kind, his lanky, pale demeanor seems to burrow under my skin.
Plus, he drowns in perspiration at just the thought of heat.
Gavriel chuckles, his bun shaking with the movement.
“You find my discomfort amusing?”
“Obviously,” he mutters, grabbing the top of his breastplate. “Something must ail you from time to time. No one is as indifferent as you appear to be.”
I pause just outside the castle, my brows rising as I stare at my guard for an abrupt moment. Does he always watch me so carefully? If I wasn’t aware of his intense respect for his position, I may have suggested an alternate placement .
“Now!” a silken voice barks in the distance. I should check if she is well…I am duty-bound to ensure the safety of the contestants that remain a part of the trials.
That is the justification I provide my protesting mind as I turn from Gavriel and attempt to be subtle in my eagerness to visit the outdoor training grounds. I feel my guard’s eye roll brand itself into my back—I must be terrible at feigning indifference, contrary to what he claims of me.
I curse at my feet when they quicken their steps at her intensifying commands. I finally crest the hill, looking through the activity below. I did not need to search, though. I would have spotted her with my eyes closed.
Ariella Mistaire.
I may have exploited Varrick’s fondness of me to peruse the files he keeps of each competitor. After my father addressed her by name, the irritatingly obsessive thoughts would not cease until I knew the full thing. Surely I should address her as something other than wraith; that is the honorable thing to do, even if she does not adhere to the customs of how to treat royals.
She circles one of the others with the same predatory grace I witnessed the day I met her. Why does that bother me?
I falter on the other woman’s name, though I recognize her slender form and black hair. I cross my arms and widen my stance when the wraith corrects the woman’s form, scrutinizing her as if one hair out of place would not even be worthy of her approval. I’m captivated by her. Why would she agree to train an opponent, knowing only one of them will live? She must understand the victory is hers.
Unless she is planning to not win?
I haven’t spoken with my father since the trial. I was not privy to his plans, and that is disturbing as I am tasked with organizing the trials. I never would have agreed to such barbaric practices, but he insists that their deaths are necessary.
“What do you think will happen if we send them home as failures? Assassins will not accept embarrassment, Caspian. They will come after our family in their vengeful states.”
It was an absurd excuse for him to give, though I did not say that. Arguing further would have resulted in the termination of my presence in this competition. I would no longer have access to meetings or documents that could help me answer why he's actually killing them. I am not certain of why I care so much; these are assassins who live by killing others.
My eyes focus on the scene before me, and I sigh. I cannot fool myself…I do know why I care.
I study her toned body, aware of the stares I am receiving. Let them talk. I’d be foolish to not have my eye on her at all times—the deadly, exquisite creature she is.
She wears black shorts and a top with mere strings hugging her shoulders. “Ally. This is a basic skill…how is it you know nothing about centering your body?” Ally impressively does not cringe when Ariella glares at her—I can feel the heat of her stare from here. Or is that the blazing sun?
I shrug, biting my cheek. They’re the same thing.
“I don’t know! I shouldn’t even be here!” Ally groans, clearly frustrated. She hurls her staff to the grass, running a hand through the partially remaining braid.
“Are you a fucking child?” One of my hands rises to cover my mouth and hide my smile. There is something about her venom that I find irresistible. “I am not here to coddle you, nor will I feel sorry for your situation. You asked for my help, so you will either pick it back up and continue, or leave. Think carefully, because I do not grant second chances.” Ally wrings her hands, a look of pure concentration on her face.
“Wraith!” All heads snap to the voice, where another of the competitors stands in full leathers. Her brunette hair is pulled back into a tight bun, and she stands with severe confidence, brandishing a blade in each hand.
Ariella spins until she faces me enough that I can see the sinister smile on her face. She looks angelic as sweat glistens along her skin, damp hair outlining her features. She turns slowly to her challenger, as if she has all the time in the world and there are not dozens of eyes trained on her.
“Sivara.” A tingling heat skims down my spine at the low purr in her tone—what would it take to have her say my name that way? She stands tall and waits with an eerie calm as her opponent approaches.
“Need a cloth, prince?” I shake my head and throw an elbow at Gavriel’s side.
“Shut up,” I mutter, refusing to look at him.
“Just offering. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you drool before.” He laughs loudly, tossing his head back.
“If you don’t shut your fucking mouth, I’ll assign you to a week in the pit.” He silences instantly, clearing his throat. We’re friends, though he knows I would follow-through on that threat with great pleasure. Maintenance and cleaning of the castle drains is not a duty anyone wants, though it would be entertaining to see Gav suffer through it for a week.
My skin cools at the dry breeze that glides through the grounds. I wonder if this is what it’s like to live in the Cindara Desert. A heat that melts your bones from the inside and a dryness that leaves you parched no matter the amount of water you drink. The sandy terrain is not a part of the Eldorian Kingdom, so I am forbidden from visiting outside cities when not accompanying the king on political matters.
I do not travel often, as is, but would like to. I hope to open the borders between our lands and the outer cities when I am king. It is absurd to me—the separation laws. Just another thing my father will not listen to .
A sultry laugh interrupts my thoughts as the wraith’s unnerving aura demands the attention of every individual on the grounds. The thought of her focus on me is tantalizing.
“A bit angry, are we, Sivara?” The woman could drop every man to his knees with a single word. If they could prove themselves to her, that is.
I will not allow them the chance, though.
“I challenge you, Silver Wraith. It is easy to fabricate a reputation, though no one has ever seen your true skills. You’re probably a worse rival than your timid friend over there.”
Ariella cocks her head, the movement bestial. The tension in the air is thick enough to touch. “Are you certain this is what you want?”
A finger taps against my upper arm; I turn my head, expecting to see Gavriel's questioning gaze, though he’s watching the scene below. A few more taps, and I clench my fist when I see my finger is the culprit.
Sivara nods, and it seems to please the wraith, which causes the other woman to shift. “Right now?”
“Yes. You will not get another chance.”
“We should go, Cas,” I shake my head, barely looking at my guard before watching the women again.
“No, I want to see what she does.” He mutters under his breath, something about how smitten he is with Faith—whoever that is. I’ll question him about her later .
“Surely you’re not being serious…you have no weapons or proper attire.” Ariella shrugs, and I chuckle when she clasps her hands behind her back.
“You are the one who challenged me, Sivara.”
The dark-haired assassin swallows, eyes skimming to the dozens that are watching their interaction. Did she not believe Ariella would agree to a challenge?
“Fine.” The wraith smiles brightly. I get the feeling this is where she’s happiest, if that’s even a possible emotion for her.
Sivara attacks first, throwing herself skillfully around the mat, though Ariella avoids her attempts just as easily as she did mine. She almost appears to be having fun—I chuckle under my breath. She knocks Sivara in the face several times, her features brightening with each drop of blood she wrings from her opponent—who becomes more angry with each missed swipe.
Sivara stalks Ariella as she reaches her arms up to stretch like she couldn’t care less about her opponent. Her groan is quiet, but it goes straight to my dick. Her opponent takes the moment to charge at the wraith’s right, though her eyes look left.
“Watch out!” My judgment is disturbingly impaired in her presence.
Her head snaps my way for just a moment, but it’s all Sivara needs to swing her leg and knock Ariella to the ground. She stands, fists clenched as she stomps to Sivara and kicks with an incredible amount of power. Her foot connects with her opponent’s upper abdomen, sending her flying through the air. She grunts loudly as her back thuds against the stone surrounding their mat.
My mouth drops on a noiseless gasp, the mirror to every face here. Ariella’s eyes flick to mine, her gaze spilling with murderous intent. I snap my jaw closed, raising my brows and brazenly running my eyes over her body. Gavriel shifts himself slightly in front of me, causing her to laugh under her breath. She grabs one of Sivara’s blades from where it rests at her feet and straightens, her stare still on me.
I might possess the sense to be intimidated if she wasn’t so fascinating.
I smirk; she’s undoubtedly contemplating hurling that blade at me. Without breaking our connection, she flips the blade and catches it by the point, swinging her arm to fling it at Sivara. I lick my lower lip, smiling genuinely when she remains unmoving as her blade sinks into her opponent’s left hand.
Fuck, that was arousing.
My eyes narrow, challenging her to bring that vicious attitude up here and see just what I’ll do with it. It should not be possible, but her features harden further. I feel her curse me through our distance before dismissing herself, not once looking back to see what she did to Sivara. The woman cries, another helping her up the hill toward the castle .
I turn to my guard so that we may continue our visit to the city. His forehead crinkles as he manages to look down at me with false accusations. I sigh and shove his chest, leaving him behind as I move to the gates.