Chapter 35
35
A fter a tense lunch, Leah allowed me time to stroll the gardens. I wandered the rows of rosebushes, surprised that the plants hadn’t tried to kill me yet here. Maybe they sensed I wasn’t trying to escape.
“They will write ballads about you one day, you know,” a quiet female voice said.
I turned, and saw the same woman who had been sitting across from me in long white linen robes. Underneath, she wore a flowing linen shirt and pants, with delicate diamonds around her neck. At her chest, she held a pad of parchment paper and a quill.
“I’m Zara Hassan, a traveling scribe,” she said, holding out an ink-stained hand.
“Saffron Vale,” I said, taking her hand and shaking it. “Dead woman walking.”
Zara shook her head. “I’ve covered The Ash Trials every year and I’ve never seen a prisoner perform quite like you.”
Perform . Ah, so she was just like the other royals who watched the trials like a sport. “I’m glad my performance is to your liking, then.”
I turned to walk away, but Zara kept pace with me. “I didn’t mean it like that. Forgive me, I hail from Frostcrown and I am the only from my kingdom to attend the trials. Our court is small and often burdened with the weight of our endless winter.”
“What do you want from me?” I said, turning on her. I had no patience for court politics—I was exhausted and trying to piece through so much that had happened. Small talk was not in the cards for today.
“I want you to know that you can talk to me if you need anything,” Zara said, something strange in her tone. “The King expects me to talk to you so I can write my account of his favored. And I have access to things you may not be able to get to should you need them. I would hate for you to lack something essential for your continued survival.”
“You’re offering to… help me?”
Zara smiled from underneath her hood. “It is not in Frostcrown’s best interest for Luminaria to do everything as it pleases. It feels like you’re aligned with us in that way.”
Ah, so she was a scribe with an agenda. “Understood. And where can I find you should I need your assistance?”
“You can find me in the East Wing or its library. Good luck with training, Saffron.”
Then Zara was floating away as if being carried by a breeze, and I was alone in the gardens once more.
I was starting to amass more allies, and I had a feeling I’d need all of the help I could get.
“Absolutely not.”
Leah stared me down. She had dressed me in fitted fighting leathers that were flexible enough for me to move in, but had built-in leather armor to give me protection against a wayward blade. I found pockets to hide daggers—but no daggers.
“I will not be in the same room as Tristen without being armed to the teeth,” I said. “I plan on killing him if he so much as thinks about betraying me once more.”
Leah’s scathing look deepened. “No weapons for you. You will only be able to practice with your magic in the warded training room on the roof,” she said. “We go there now.”
“And if I refuse?”
“I assure you, it will not be you who suffers.”
I sighed. “Did a sense of humor skip over you?”
Leah pursed her lips. “Rachelle’s humor was born from great trauma.”
I bit my lip, remembering Rachelle’s past. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”
Leah waved her hand. “Rachelle left our home far before I did. She knew what dangers awaited her. Now come, we will be late for your training session.”
I considered putting up a greater fight, but didn’t want to give Leah more trouble.
She led me up through twisting, narrow stairwells until we were on the top floor of the palace, nearly as high as the spires that stretched even further above us.
I stepped out onto the outdoor training ring perched on the roof of one of the towers. It had a soft moss-covered patch of earth that formed a circular sparring ring, similar to the one in Ashguard, but clearly manmade instead of born from the forest. As I stepped onto the ring, my iron bands unclipped and fell to the ground.
I looked around in surprise, but as the wind tossed my braided blonde hair, I saw that Leah had already disappeared back down the stone stairwell.
If I had my magic back, could I…
I started to walk off the sparring ring, but I bounced off of some sort of invisible wall. I stared at it, confused…
“It’s warded. The spell will disarm your irons, but won’t let you storm off and conduct a killing spree. As gratifying as that would be,” that male voice said from behind me.
I whirled, and saw Tristen entering the ring from the other side, his irons dropping the moment he passed through the boundary. He kicked them to the side and faced me. “Are you ready, princess?”
I took in a breath, feeling my fury rise—and then bank, slightly. Despite my renewed hatred for him, I couldn’t help but notice how he looked—how he held himself. As the wind tossed his black hair, the morning sun bathed his body in golden light. He was wearing tight-fitting fighting leathers, too, and they emphasized his lithe strength, his strong arms bare. His power rippled over me, as if caressing me. It took my breath away, and I was distracted, until?—
—Tristen tossed a lazy bolt of shadowfire at me. I dodged—barely—and glared at him. “What was that for?”
“Can’t have you distracted ,” he said with a playful smirk. He had known I had been admiring him.
I glared. “I don’t want to be trained by you. You stole my memories, my past, everything I was—and I wasn’t even granted the privilege of weapons to put you in the ground myself.”
Tristen cocked his head. “Then use that.”
“Use what?”
“You hate me, so use that. Kill me right here, right now with your bare hands.”
I did want to kill him for what he’d done. And if he was going to let me? I’d steal his last breath. My anger boiled, and I lunged at him. He dodged my punch, but I dropped down to sweep his legs. He was already a step ahead of me, sidestepping my attack. I jumped to my feet once more, trying to land a punch.
“That’s it. Get in touch with your anger. Use it ,” he said.
He didn’t have to tell me twice. I felt the depths of the emptiness of my mind. That suffocating void that was in place of where my memories once were. He was the one who had taken my memories of my childhood, of my parents, of my love story with Callum?—
I spun and elbowed Tristen in the jaw, and he stumbled back.
Stunned, I watched him touch the tender spot I had just bruised. I expected him to be angry, to maybe fight back… but he just looked at me with a wide grin. “Yes. You’ve been training during these trials, I see.”
“With Rachelle,” I said, panting from the effort.
“Rachelle’s good. I’m better. Now, let’s do some drills.”
It felt good to move my body. I liked the rhythm of the drills that Tristen put me through, honing my combinations of jabs, punches, and kicks. I lost myself in the flow of it, so much so that the constant fear that flooded my mind started to ebb, and I found some kind of… peace. I hadn’t realized that the sun was creeping into the sky until we took a break and Tristen tossed me a waterskin.
“Drink,” he commanded.
I sat down on the edge of the training ring and drank the cool water he had brought me. My muscles felt thoroughly worked. “I thought we were supposed to be practicing magic.”
“That comes next. But magic is physical. You still channel it through your body, so if you’re not in control of yourself, you can’t possibly control your magic.”
Tristen took a long swig of his water and tossed it to the side. Then, he started undoing the laces and buckles of the fighting leathers that covered his chest. He tossed the armor to the side, standing bare-chested before me.
“What are you doing?” I managed to get out, my mouth suddenly dry. Tristen was, without a doubt, the most handsome man I had ever seen—even if I resented what his beauty did to my traitorous mind and body. He was built like a warrior, but he moved with a feline grace that felt elegant. But here, shirtless in front of me, his rippling muscles bathed in that warm glow of the sun, he looked like a god—thoughts that I needed to fight. I couldn’t keep letting myself indulge in admiring him.
He caught my gaze, and seemed to pick up on the conflict warring there. “Don’t let your boyfriend catch you looking at me like that.”
I got to my feet, glaring daggers at him. “He’s not my boyfriend,” I said, but as soon as the words left my mouth, I froze. What were we, then?
Tristen’s eyebrow rose. “That would make sense. He treats you like something to be controlled rather than an equal."
Oof . The words struck a chord I wasn’t willing to hear. “Let’s train,” I ground out, stalking to the center of the ring.
Tristen took one look at my leather breastplate. “Off,” he demanded.
I frowned. “Is practicing magic an innuendo I’m not aware of in this world?”
“You’ve proven you love listening to no one and just getting yourself and everyone around you into trouble. So how about you just let me train you for once?”
Tristen reached for me, but I backed away. “I think I’ll hang onto my clothes.”
Tristen growled in frustration. “Do you want to kill me or not, Saffron?”
“Of course I want to fucking kill you!” I screamed. “How many times do I have to remind you what you took from me? How many times do I have to bare my brokenness to try and remind you what a horrible monster you are? I hope you and Melisandre are happy together when I send you back to her in a coffin.”
Tristen’s expression went stone cold, but he just nodded once. “To do that, you’ll need to take off your leathers. You’ll need to bare more skin so you can use it as a conduit and see how much you can take from me and wield effectively. Now, can I help you unbuckle these so you can send me to that early grave you’re so fond of reminding me of?”
His quiet voice nearly cut me at my knees, and I just nodded, unable to hold the jumble of hate and frustration and other strange emotions that always bubbled up at his nearness.
His hands slipped to the laces on the back of my leathers, expertly undoing them and unbuckling the leather buckles with strong hands that brushed against my bare skin. He circled me, removing the last buckle with a strong pull that brought my back against his bare chest, leaving me standing in front of him in just a strip of fabric that bound my breasts and my leather pants. His skin was so warm, and I could smell the spice of him. It was heady, being so close to him, feeling his bare skin on mine…
He tossed my leathers to the ground, and then pivoted me to face him.
“Now. Take my magic.”
I stumbled a little, shaken from how close we were. He grabbed my hands, keeping them placed on his bare chest. “Take it from me.”
I tried to concentrate on the currents running underneath his skin, the way his magic reverberated through his blood. But his chest burned underneath my hands, and I felt my heart skip at our closeness.
What was wrong with me?
“This century, please,” Tristen said.
I squeezed my eyes shut, concentrating. I tried to find those loops of his power. Tried to focus on them… and then I found them, hooking my magic around them… and started to pull. I took a step closer to him, placing my forehead on his chest. I pulled more magic from him, feeling it fill me…
Then, Tristen pulled my hands off him, backing up. I immediately felt the loss of his body, his power, his magic as he put distance between us.
I looked up at him, wide-eyed, but he was serious, focused. “Now use it.”
I felt his power underneath my skin, felt it coursing through my veins. I willed it to my hands, feeling my palms grow cold with shadowfire… and then it just sputtered out. I felt the whoosh of his power flow through me, and I stumbled back, hitting the barrier as my body went boneless under the strain.
“I can’t,” I whispered.
Tristen walked over to me. “I saw sparks. But you didn’t control it. You let it go before you could channel it.”
“It just… slipped away,” I said.
Tristen shook his head. “You have to be able to control it at will. That’s the only way you’ll be able to fight back against the King. Because even if you do succeed in killing me and winning this thing, you’ll have to see to his demise, too. Or else you’ll just be his prize at the end of all this. Do you want that?”
“Of course not!”
“Then fight! Absorb my power and throw it back at me.”
I put my hands on his bare chest again, but it was as if the hooks of my power were blunt. I was so exhausted after everything that had happened that I just… couldn’t.
“Let’s take another water break,” Tristen said, but I heard the concern in his voice as my thoughts drifted.
What a prize the King had claimed for himself.