Chapter 41
ISI
Ididn’t sleep well because my mind refused to quiet.
I kept rolling over, the sheets tangling around my legs. Every time I closed my eyes, Addie’s laugh trickled through my mind.
And then Trew’s face would replace hers. Holding me in the infirmary, his face full of concern. Coming to my room and helping me through the storm with a silly story. His eyes blazing as he stood in my doorway, his shoulders squared like he’d come to wage war for me alone.
I woke with my pulse thundering in my throat, wondering if I’d imagined the way his magic softened when it brushed over me while wearing the gown.
By the time Lexie knocked at dawn, I’d slept no more than a few hours.
“Are you awake?” she called out. “If not, get up. Bathe. Brush your teeth. We’ll head down to breakfast together in fifteen, so hurry!”
“I will!”
“We’ve got plans for our poisoner,” she said in a lowered voice. “Just so you know.”
“Leave a scrap of him for me.”
Her answering laugh came out wicked enough to make me glad I wasn’t the one she was planning to take down next. “Oh, we will. Enough for you to sweep up and toss in the trash.” Her voice lifted. “And don’t wear that distracted, swoony-eyed look at breakfast.”
“I don’t have a—”
“You do,” she sing-songed. “And it’s all king shaped.”
I threw a pillow at the door, but she only laughed harder as she walked away.
I slid out of bed and bathed quickly, dressing in leathers for another day of training. It was only when I’d returned to my bedroom to put on my boots that I saw something out of place on my bedside table.
A small cluster of wildflowers with deep violet petals had been placed in a small vase. Morning dew dusted the petals that smelled faintly of earth and rain.
Not a bouquet, just a handful, gathered carefully and left for me in silence.
I thought back to our conversation, how I collected small things, imperfect but rich with meaning. These flowers weren’t flawless or arranged for show. They were wild, untamed, and utterly real.
Like Trew.
He’d been here while I slept. He’d thought to leave me a quiet piece of the world he wanted me to know.
I cupped the blooms gently and a slow smile spread across my face.
Lexie was already leaning against the wall outside my door when I stepped into the hall, her hair twisted up, and her own leathers laced tight.
“Took you long enough,” she said, pushing off the wall. Her badger chittered beside her, pretty much shaking his paw my way.
“I’m exactly on time.”
“For a ball, maybe.” Her grin turned sly. “Speaking of which… Did you sleep well? Or were you too busy thinking about a certain king breaking down your door again?”
I huffed and started toward the stairs. “I wasn’t thinking about him.” And it appeared he didn’t have to break down my door when it was normally locked. I wasn’t sure what I thought about that.
She quickly caught up. “You were thinking about how he looked at you in that gown.”
“I was thinking about how he might still owe me a new door.”
She laughed, trailing me down the steps. “Sure you were. Just wait until the ball tonight. He’s going to lose whatever royal composure he has left.”
“Maybe he will.” I gave her a sly smile. “And maybe he won’t.”
Lexie’s sidelong glance was far too knowing. “Oh, he’ll notice. You might even get a dance, assuming you don’t bite him first.”
“I don’t bite.”
Her brows rose. “You do, though maybe not where people can see.”
My cheeks heated, which only made her grin wider as we stepped into the dining hall, sitting quickly with our friends. Maddox was noticeably missing—as was Trew.
I ate fast and went with my friends to the training hall that smelled of leather and steel.
Maddox stood off to one side, but he didn’t look my way.
Ignoring him, I strode to a mat and started stretching.
“Pair assignments,” Malcolm called out from the head of the room, his gaze, strangely meeting mine.
“King Trewyn is otherwise occupied, so I’ll be leading your team today.
He…” He still didn’t look away. “He’ll be back this afternoon, though he’s going to work with only one of you during magical training. Nia will take the rest of your group.”
I had a feeling I knew who Trew would be working with, and I couldn’t say I was upset about it. I wanted to see him again. And that was wildly wonderful.
“Bryson?” Malcolm called out. “I’d like you to work with Fenna and Kerralyn.” He waved to a mat. “I know you’re leaving after lunchtime, so share all you can with them.”
Bryson gave him a nod. “Will do.”
“Lexie’s with Isi.” Malcolm’s gaze swept the room. “Maddox is with Derren.” He clapped his hands. “Finish warming up, then get started. I’ll come around the room and give pointers.”
While Bryson, Kerralyn, and Fenna took a mat, Bryson speaking low with Kerralyn, Derren gave Maddox a slick smile and stepped onto the mat adjacent to the one Lexie and I had taken to warm-up on. Derren looked almost too relaxed.
Maddox lunged.
The sweep of Derren’s foot appeared lazy, but it caught Maddox low and clean, sending his legs out from under him, making him smack face-first onto the mat.
“Sorry,” Derren said, not looking contrite at all.
Maddox climbed to his feet, his jaw tight, and squared up again, only to have Kerralyn “inadvertently” step back, somehow ending up on their mat.
“Let me try something?” she asked.
Derren gave her a long look and eased to the side, giving her room.
She sized Maddox up before waving his way. “Give me all you’ve got.”
Maddox frowned and studied her face before leaping toward her. Something about the way he moved, with his shoulders bunched and the hard set of his jaw, made my stomach knot. I’d seen enough men with that kind of look to know how it felt, like the moment before a blade slips between ribs.
Kerralyn was small and slighter than Maddox, and she still needed a lot of work to get her where she needed to be, but her handwork was merciless. Every time Maddox tried to land a strike, she redirected it, letting his own momentum pull him off balance.
Whenever Maddox stumbled, Lexie’s grin sharpened. I let myself savor the quiet justice of it.
“Take a break,” Malcolm called out from where he leaned against the wall, watching. “We’ll get back at it in fifteen.”
Maddox stood fuming, his breathing raged, color filling his face. He could barely leash in his temper.
Bryson came over as I stepped off the mat. “You’re looking well. Are you feeling alright?”
“I’m fine, thanks.” I raised my voice. “Much better now that the poison is out of my system.” I poured water and took a drink, aware of Maddox standing only a few paces away—and of Bryson turning his back to him as if he weren’t there at all.
Lexie didn’t even glance his way as she joined us. As Bryson brought water to Kerralyn, Lexie chattered about what she hoped they’d serve for lunch and a new soap one of the staff had left in her bathroom.
Maddox actually dared to walk closer to us, though without a hint of threat in his eyes.
“We’re still on for after dinner,” Lexie said, shifting around to step between me and Maddox, feeding him her back.
Derren angled his body to block Maddox’s line of sight, all casual grin but with a stance that said try it and you’ll regret it.
Bryson’s broad back might as well have been a shield, planted between us whenever Maddox moved in our direction.
Kerralyn didn’t so much as glance his way, but I saw her subtly mark his position in the room, like a strategist tracking an enemy’s position.
Even Fenna gave him a sidelong glance and moved away when he walked over to speak with her.
He winced and eased back a few steps, scanning the room for friends. None of our team appeared willing to be with him for even one moment.
It wasn’t just avoidance; they’d created a wall.
My team had closed ranks around me, and the message was clear. He wouldn’t get near me again.
The warmth that surged through my chest had nothing to do with my recent fight.
Malcolm straightened from the wall. “Let’s rotate partners,” he said, scanning the room.
Before he could continue, I stepped forward. “I’ll take Maddox.”
The chatter died.
Lexie’s head snapped toward me. Bryson’s hand froze halfway to his mouth. Derren’s grin vanished altogether. Only Malcolm met my gaze, unreadable as ever.
“You sure?” he asked quietly.
“I am.” My voice didn’t waver. “He and I have something to finish.”
A muscle ticked along Malcolm’s jaw. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then he gave me a curt nod.
Maddox turned, his expression hard, but I caught the flicker of hesitation. His bravado had slipped, and fear had begun to bloom where arrogance used to live.
Lexie leaned close enough that only I could hear her. “Don’t hold back.”
“Not one bit.”
The others moved aside. My pulse slowed. I rolled my shoulders once and took my stance.
Maddox did the same, but tension coiled in his body. He was too rigid, too unsettled to move well.
“Begin,” Malcolm said.
Like always, Maddox lunged first. Predictable, at least. I sidestepped, catching his wrist and twisting enough to make him hiss. When he stumbled, I released him, letting him recover.
He came at me again, faster this time. I kept my breathing even. Each strike he threw, I redirected. He hit air.
The room had gone silent except for the scuff of our boots and the sharp rhythm of his breathing. I heard the echo of Thorne’s voice in the back of my mind. Don’t meet brute force with force. Meet it with precision.
Maddox swung for my shoulder. I ducked beneath it, planted a hand on his arm, and used his momentum to flip him onto his back. The mat groaned from the impact.
He got up slower, his lip curling. “You think you’re better than me?”
“I don’t even have to think about it.”
He came again, this time trying to catch me off guard with a feint to the left and a backhanded strike to my ribs. I blocked it with my forearm, the shock rattling through me but steadying my balance.
He grunted and swung again, wilder now. I slipped beneath his reach and swept out his leg. He hit the mat a second time, harder.
Laughter broke from Lexie’s direction, quickly smothered.
Maddox pushed to his knees, panting, his hair plastered to his forehead.
He lunged again, a snarl tearing from his throat. I pivoted, caught his arm, and twisted. His weight shifted exactly where I wanted it. He crashed down to one knee, his breath leaving him in a sharp bark of pain.
I leaned close enough for him to hear me breathe. “You poisoned me,” I said, voice low. “Come near me again and you’re dead.”
He stilled. Then his shoulders slumped, and the fight drained from him like water from a cracked jug.
I released his arm and stepped back, giving him space to choose. He could stand or stay down.
He didn’t move.
Malcolm’s voice cut through the quiet. “Enough.”
The spell broke. Air rushed through the room again.
Maddox stayed kneeling, his head bowed, his shoulders shaking.
I took a step back and waited. If he came at me again, I’d take him down even harder. Over and over until he finally learned.
My friends stood near a wall, each face wearing the same grim satisfaction. Fenna’s eyes gleamed, Kerralyn’s chin lifted. Even Malcolm released a faint smile that said more than words could.
I turned away, my pulse steady, my hands loose. The world felt quieter.
Lexie stepped forward as I left the mat, her grin fierce. “Remind me never to make you angry.”
“You already do,” I said, which made her laugh outright.
Derren clapped once. “Well. That was inspiring. Slightly terrifying, but inspiring.”
Bryson’s voice came out gentle. “You good?”
“I’m fine.” I filled my mug again and drank it all. The cool water cut through the heat in my throat.
Lexie’s badger chittered somewhere near my boots, and I got the feeling he wanted to take a bite out of Maddox himself.
“Easy.” I crouched to scratch behind his ear. “We’re done here.”
He gave a little snort that sounded suspiciously like agreement.
A prickle ran over the back of my neck, and I straightened, glancing toward the entrance.
Trew leaned against the wall in the shadows, his arms folded on his chest, his gaze pinned on Maddox like a blade impaling a door.
His eyes slid to me. The air shifted, warm where it had been cool. The corner of his mouth tugged on one side. Not quite a smile, but enough to send my pulse skittering.
His look was gone in no time, but that quiet, satisfied acknowledgment of what he’d seen felt good.
Maddox would never touch me again.
By the time the sun had climbed into the sky and Malcolm dismissed us for lunch, my muscles ached from the morning drills. Voices echoed within the dining room, along with the clatter of trenchers and silverware, and the smell of baked bread and spiced meat filling the air.
I slid into a seat beside Lexie, Kerralyn and Derren taking the bench across from us. Bryson joined with his usual unhurried grace, Fenna not long behind.
Maddox followed, blinking when he noted we’d taken a table for six. No room for him.
With a grunt, he sat at a different table with recruits from the Warden team. As he dragged a trencher close and started filling it, they all got up with a scrape of benches and moved to a new table. His jaw dropped, his shoulders hunching forward as he watched them leave.
He wisely didn’t try to join another group, though I was sure he wasn’t going to stay knocked down for long. He stared at the plate he barely touched while conversations ebbed around him like a current parting for a rock in the river.
Even his cat companion lay on the table with its back to him. Shunned by us all, as was his due.
Lexie gave me a smug look that pretty much shouted, this is what protecting you looks like.
Part of me felt sharp, vindicated satisfaction. Another part remembered that isolation could be its own kind of poison.
Conversation bubbled around our table as we ate. From the corner of my eye, I caught Trew watching from where he sat on his throne on the dais.
I broke off a piece of bread, the crust warm and drenched with butter, and kept my eyes on my friends. The feelings in my chest for him could be sorted out later.
After we finished, I followed my team out of the dining hall, still warm from their laughter. Halfway down the corridor, the air became charged, like the moment before lightning struck.
Trew stepped out of an alcove, falling into pace beside me without a word. Our shoulders almost brushed, the heat of him a dangerous temptation.
“Glad you ate well, Minx,” he said, low enough that only I could hear. “You’ll need your strength for tonight.” His mouth curved enough to make my cheeks burn, like they had when Lexie teased me this morning.
Before I could demand he tell me what he meant, he strode away, leaving me standing in the hall with my pulse tripping over itself and Lexie’s smug voice echoing in my head.
Oh, he’ll notice.