Chapter Thirty
Smiling to myself, I dress in supple leathers and an armored vest, and wince at the delicious soreness between my thighs.
Though I could have easily healed myself with magic, I want to feel him for as long as I can.
Given his size, it’s no surprise I still do.
I have no illusions that what we’ve done repeatedly for the past week has strengthened our bond.
Though it still isn’t complete, I can feel it, stretching like a magical tether between us. If I follow it with my magic, I sense the king in the war room with his council, strategizing on the wards and the defenses in place for the people of Everlea.
You need me, Starbright?
I blush at the caress in his mental voice. No. I’m just about to head for my training with Karan?.
Remember to keep your elbow high, he says. And trust your magic.
I will.
After eating a quick breakfast of a pastry filled with sweetened almond paste, I make my way down to the training fields. But I falter when I see a familiar, gorgeous redhead standing with Karan?.
“What is she doing here?” I ask, keeping my simmering feelings at bay.
Darrius might trust that Zahre had nothing to do with her father’s schemes, but I don’t.
I have more than enough experience dealing with ambitious women in a royal court.
Though Zahre is not Helena, the similarities are too obvious to ignore.
Karan? spreads her hands. “Zahre is a much better fighter than I am in close combat with a dagger, which is your weapon of choice, so you will spar with her after our ride. Then you will fight both of us because war is unpredictable and you may have to face multiple enemies at once.”
I narrow my eyes. “Did you clear this with the king?”
The tall blonde cants her head. “Of course. However, he said it would be up to you.”
Frowning, I glance over at Zahre, loathing how confident, fit, and beautiful she looks, and absolutely reviling the knowledge that she has been the recipient of Dare’s considerable skills in bed. But as I told him several nights ago, neither of us can be blamed for having a past.
In fact, while I scour the library in my scant free time for books on how to perform a magical expulsion without killing someone, Darrius has been the one to point me in the right direction. So he’s trying. I want to be the bigger person, too.
“Very well,” I say.
Nuadar arrives, leading a very large, unfamiliar horse toward us.
The beastmaster hasn’t warmed up to me—in fact, he even seems more antagonistic than ever.
I eye the stallion just as warily when he flares his nostrils and paws the dirt.
He’s much bigger than the mare I’ve been learning on.
“That is the king’s warhorse,” I tell him. “You have the wrong mount.”
“I also requested a larger horse,” Karan? informs me. “As the chosen rider of an azdaha, a small horse will not give you the correct practice or proficiency. And since we are not sky riders, the biggest horse we have will have to do.”
“Stars, we’re full of changes today, I see,” I mutter.
I use magic to boost myself up into the saddle, feeling the massive beast prance beneath me.
Karan? and Zahre mount their equally large warhorses with their intricate tack and bridles, holding themselves like they’d been born in the saddle.
They probably have, I think sourly, and automatically loosen my stiff posture to mimic theirs.
“Stay relaxed, remember to let your hips swing and absorb his movement,” Karan? reminds me, and I can’t help my blush at the recollection of other rather indecent lessons. I exhale and clear my mind when she stares at me. “Keep your spine loose, chest open, and body upright.”
We walk slowly at first so I can get used to the size and the gait of the horse. He’s nothing like riding on Razulek, of course, but he’s a well-trained animal, and my nerves soon settle at being so high off the ground. Besides, if I fall, now I have my magic to catch me.
Zahre nudges her mount closer to mine and clears her throat. “I want you to know how sorry I am for my father’s actions,” she says, surprising me. “They were unforgivable. As raissa, I hope to earn back your trust.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
“I know you may not believe me, but I did not know that the king had a soul-fated,” she says quickly. “I would not have entertained a union otherwise. Soul-fated pairs are rare, even among the Aspa?anā, blessed by the goddess, and are cherished.”
“Thank you for telling me,” I say to Zahre. “And I appreciate you offering to help train me.”
“You’re welcome.” She smiles, a dimple glinting in her fierce face. “But you might not be thanking me later. I do not plan to go easy on you.”
I grin back. “I hope you don’t.”
Karan? signals for us to move into a trot and then a canter, which I do with more ease than I expected, until we transition to a full-on gallop.
The power beneath me is unbelievable. I hadn’t realized just how much Karan? had been holding back her own horse while we’d been practicing with my smaller mare, because now we are flying across the meadow.
Exhilarated, I watch as she unhooks her feet from the stirrups to crouch atop the saddle before firing her bow toward a marked tree.
Zahre does the same with as much finesse.
I can’t stand like they do, but I rise up and clench my thighs tight around the stallion’s flanks.
Focusing my magic, I grab my bow and nock an arrow.
I remember to keep my elbow up, and just as we pass the target, I release, watching as it goes wide when my balance is jostled.
There’s no time to wallow, however, as we come up to the next set of targets.
Doing the same will be a hundred times harder on Razulek up in the sky.
I keep calm and concentrate on making a clean slate with each new shot.
I miss some and I hit others. By the time we come back to a stop at the training grounds, I’m breathless and high from adrenaline.
“You did well,” Karan? says, “for your first time on that horse. Six out of ten targets.”
“Not bad,” Zahre congratulates me as she dismounts. “You eliminated six enemies. Pretend that your magic is nearing depletion. Let’s see how good you are with a dagger.”
Considering I’ve come close to being depleted twice—once with Roshan when he’d nearly died and then when I’d healed Razulek—I nod.
Although my power feels like a bottomless well lately, both Ani and Darrius insist that akasha has to be replenished, especially if a magi uses too much.
I need to be better at identifying when I’m nearing that point.
I pull my dagger from my sheath and meet Zahre in the ring. Some of the king’s men gather to watch, and I feel my nerves take hold at the attention. “Don’t focus on them,” Zahre says. “Eyes on me.”
She attacks first with a quick swipe toward my torso that I dodge.
I suspect that was merely a test of my reflexes, because the next one comes much faster.
I spin out of the way, going for my own offense with a lunge and a thrust. She dodges me easily and then parries with a swift shuffle and spin combination that has me misjudging where her body will go.
My balance wavers. I take precious seconds to reacquaint myself, time I’m well aware she could have used for a fatal strike.
Zahre moves like a dancer, similarities in her footwork, fluidity, and dexterity. I wonder if she’d looked so graceful when she danced with Darrius. The brief loss of focus costs me as a punch catches me in the stomach, and I gasp when her blade whines across my chest plate and nicks my arm.
“Shit!”
She lifts her brows. “You were distracted.”
“I was thinking about how well you move,” I say. “Like dancing.”
Zahre slows down her footwork. “You have a good eye. Most fighters watch the feet and the hips to determine movement, so my style of fighting confuses them. My hips sway this way, and you automatically think that’s where I’m going, but my center of gravity is a misdirection.
” She shakes her head with a smirk. “What you should watch are the knees.”
I mimic her steps and feel like a fool when a wolf whistle from one of our spectators cuts through the air.
A storm of shadows bears down out of nowhere and tosses the man into a pond, and I feel a bolt of possessiveness seething down the bond.
I roll my eyes when Darrius materializes at the far end of the ring and the crowd instantly dissipates.
Jealous much?
He scowls. I should cut out their eyes and feed them to Indira for even looking at you.
You’re so violent, my king.
Pleasure rumbles down the bond. Call me that again.
I turn and wink at him, being intentionally perverse. Violent.
“The king is here,” Zahre remarks, interrupting our silent exchange. “Do you want to give him a demonstration?”
I balk. “Now?”
She grins a bit maniacally and waves over Karan?, who also enters the ring, her short sword in hand.
Bronze earth magic lights Karan?’s blade while frost shines over Zahre’s dagger. With excitement filling me, I glance down at the runes near the hilt of my dagger and call for my starlight. It whooshes down the steel in a glimmer of iridescence. I let my magic fill me and then fly into motion.
I lunge and parry, slice and thrust, catching my blade to each of theirs in showers of sparks and magic.
I dodge the magical attacks, leaping out of the way when a fissure forms in the ground and attempts to swallow me, and evading a stream of ice that shoots from Zahre’s direction.
I respond with strikes of my own, coils of glowing starlight whipping out in multiple directions.
Toying with them, I yank my foes off their feet and snatch their weapons.
I push them off-balance and singe their clothing.
Before, without magic, I was at a disadvantage, because Zahre is undoubtedly the better warrior with a blade, but with my magic, I am invincible.