Chapter 22
Chapter
Twenty-Two
Gerard gritted his teeth. But he kept his gaze ahead.
“Poor Prince Elias.” Did Albert realise how his voice carried? And wasn’t his future husband standing right beside him?
His cousin had never mocked Gerard in earshot before, at least not knowingly. Was he drunk? High on adrenaline from his previous victories? Gerard had never realised the level of animosity Albert held towards him until this peace assembly.
Elias didn’t turn to face Albert, but his head angled ever so slightly towards him. Clearly, he could hear. As did so many around them. In fact, many fell silent, listening to Albert talk.
“Initially, I was told I’d marry the lightning prince,” Albert said. “But then for some reason, he ended up engaged to Gerard instead!” He made a noise of disgust. “It’s such a pity.” He spat the words. “Such a shame!”
Gerard hadn’t known that. Had Elias? If he didn’t before, he knew now.
Did Prince Elias wish he was betrothed to Duke Albert instead of him? Surely he must.
Of course, Elias, who dressed in elaborate finery, sparkling jewels, and perfect make-up, wouldn’t want someone who looked like Gerard.
Right now, the lightning prince wore white and pastel-purple robes with gold embroidery and a gold belt that cinched it together.
His lips shone, and his eyelids shimmered.
Gold sparkled in his ears. Around his throat amethysts and more gold glittered.
This man was revolted by dull, scratchy robes. Surely Gerard must revolt him too. Naturally he would prefer Albert over Gerard. Even if Albert was a pathetic prat.
Still, Gerard kept his gaze forward. He’d not engage. He’d teach Albert a lesson on the battlefield.
The herald blew her trumpet. “We now have the final battle between Prince Gerard and Duke Albert. The winner will be the champion of the Tournament of Dragons.”
Cries and cheers filled the air.
“Prepare yourselves,” the herald yelled.
Gerard took off his eye patch and robe, handing them to Elias without meeting his gaze. But he could see Elias looking over his body. Now Elias could see all Gerard’s scars up close. His skin felt flayed bare.
Breathing heavily, Gerard stalked away.
“Wait!” Elias called out when he’d taken a few steps.
Gerard paused. He hesitated and then glanced back. Elias strode towards him. Gerard frowned.
What’s he doing?
The crowd quietened. All watched Elias, seeming just as curious as Gerard. As far as Gerard knew, none of the other partners had walked out onto the battlefield today.
Elias paused by his side, forcing Gerard to turn and face him. As if Elias wanted everyone to see them in clear profile.
Then Elias reached out. He took Gerard’s hands in his. “My dear dragon warrior,” he said, voice loud enough to carry to those by the field and perhaps even reach the first couple of rows in the grandstand.
“You have fought valiantly today. I am proud to be your betrothed.” He squeezed Gerard’s hands.
Gerard blinked. Elias’s proclamation clearly had been meant for the crowd. But was it also meant for him? Because it felt like Elias was trying to prove to both the onlookers and to him that he wanted to be Gerard’s husband.
But he couldn’t want that! Could he?
“But now I must ask you for a favour, as your future husband.” Elias took a long pause, as if knowing everyone was listening and wanted to hear what he would say next. “Win the Tournament of Dragons. Do it for me.”
Elias smiled up at Gerard. No shame or sneer shadowed his expression. No disgust at being associated with him in public appeared on his face. Then Elias leaned up on his toes. He brushed his lips against Gerard’s. Right in front of everyone.
Thunderous applause erupted from the crowds. He heard shouts of “Dragon Warrior” as he’d heard earlier in the day when he’d won. But then a new chant began, mixed with his own title, “Lightning Prince. Dragon Warrior. Lightning Prince.”
Elias whispered in his ear, “Make him bleed. Make him hurt. Beat that fucker into the earth.” Then he pulled back and smiled, a sweet smile that contrasted with the bloodthirsty request. “Win for me.” His violet eyes twinkled.
Gerard nodded, still unable to collect himself enough to speak.
Elias’s smile widened. He turned and walked back, hips swinging. Albert, who’d been standing motionless, glowered, gaze darting between the two of them. Then he stomped forward.
Elias veered towards him. Gerard frowned. He passed right next to Albert, and as Elias did so, he flicked his long white hair, hitting Albert right in the face. Otherwise, Elias didn’t acknowledge him at all.
Albert’s face twisted in fury. “Hey!” he shouted after Elias.
But Elias just kept walking.
A surprised laugh burst from Gerard’s throat.
That had been so petty. And Gerard loved it.
Perhaps there really is more to Elias than I thought.
Because that had been Elias defending Gerard. That had been him getting back at Albert for what he had said. Gerard had planned to defend himself in battle. But he appreciated and admired Elias’s method, perhaps even more than his own.
Elias stopped beside Senta and turned to face Gerard. Senta beamed down at Elias.
Chuckling, Gerard moved to the centre of the field, ready to fight and win. For Elias. And for himself. He wanted to teach Albert to shut his fucking mouth.
“Ready?” the herald yelled when Gerard and Albert faced each other.
“I am,” Gerard said.
Albert scowled but nodded.
“When I blow my trumpet, shift and fight.” She lifted the trumpet. She blew.
Gerard shifted and launched himself into the air.