24. The Nightmare Prince
Chapter 24
Old courtyards of the Black Palace had been made into soft lawns and sparring fields. Speckled across the field were folk from the inner palace, a few Kryv, and townsfolk who enjoyed working sore muscles through a match of mesmer or blades.
My uncle Bard grunted and let out a curse when I slammed his back to the grass, breaths heavy, blade at his throat. He tried to break free, but the shield strapped to my arm kept him locked in defeat.
Bard let his arms fall to the side in surrender. “Gods, I concede. Unless I’m allowed to snap a few fingers.”
Strange how he’d vowed with Tova, a Mediski alver who healed. Bard was a Rifter like Ash. Should he desire it, he could snap my spine.
“Only if you want me to haunt K?re with nightmares so you never sleep again.”
“Brutal, Jo. You’d do such a thing to your young, innocent cousin?”
“No. I’m not that diabolical yet.” One palm clasped with his, I tugged him to his feet.
We’d long since stripped our tunics. Smudges of dirt and streaks from the green grass painted our skin across shoulders, spines, and chests.
My mother stood next to Junius Tjuv from the Falkyns, the wife of Niklas and a Profetik who could taste lies. Junie tied back her long, black braids and wiped a towel over the heat on her dark skin, laughing as Niklas and Raum were nearing a standstill.
Raum could see Nik’s moves before the Elixist could even reach for one of his endless powders of fire or poison. Now, they were locked in a dance of equal skill with the blade.
Von sparred with Isak and Fiske. Even without mesmer Von knew his way around a blade and managed to knock one of Fiske’s daggers from his grip. To the far side of the field, Daj’s eyes were blackened like night, and Tova was retreating, cursing at him when dark skeins of shadows wrapped around her ankles.
Buckets of water for drinking or washing were lined across the grass. I splashed my face once, then tilted water into my mouth, soothing the burn in my throat.
When I traveled to other kingdoms to spend time with Aleksi, or Mira, or Livia, these were the days I missed from home. Everyone laughing. Everyone safe.
I wanted Skadi to be part of it, and I could not deduce why. More like I did not want to face why. All night her words would not leave me. You will never truly want me.
If only she knew she was a poison in my veins and I wanted to drown in it.
Skadi’s words crawled under my skin like burrowing pests I could not shake. The pain in her eyes when she looked at me was a wound placed there long ago by the thoughts she spoke in her mind, with words spoken by others.
How often was she brought low and put in her place to keep silent?
I ought to have realized it at the first true conversation we had, when she told me her wants and desires did not matter any longer.
They mattered to me.
“Ah, hello, lovey.” Raum’s cheerful taunt drew me back to the moment.
He spun a dagger in his fingers and beamed at the gate to the field. I turned and choked on the gulp of water, spilling it down my chin. Skadi with Dorsan at her back filled the space. Tight silver braids fell from a knot on the top of her head, revealing the soft edges of her face, the string of piercings in her pointed ears.
Free of her elaborate gowns, her curves were defined by a black tunic, vambraces on her slender arms, and a thick belt with a bronze elven blade.
She was indescribable.
Her bright eyes found me. I watched her shoulders rise in a deep breath, then fall again upon her first step onto the field. Dorsan looked about with a hand on his blade like we might pounce.
Two paces away, I reeled through what I might say. Last night seemed to crack something inside me. She likely didn’t recall, but there would be no going back to where I’d been with her. Not after her admission that she wanted me too.
I parted my lips to stammer out anything but was knocked in the shoulder.
Sander shoved past me. “You’re here to spar? Finally. I summon a rematch.”
Skadi’s eyes were wide, hesitant, her hackles visibly raised.
“Sander.” I tugged on his shoulder, drawing him back. “Stop pushing her to adore you.”
He shirked me off and took out his own sword. “What do you say, sister?”
The slightest hint of a smirk teased her full lips. She withdrew her own blade. “Will your ego recover if you lose a second time?”
Jeers and laughter rose, some taunted Sander, others demanded Skadi humble the prince with less near-death this time. Her cheeks were flushed with a bit of mortification, no doubt, but she squared against Sander.
“What are the rules?” She took a step to one side; Sander took a step in the opposite direction. “Blades alone? Or affinities?”
My brother blackened his eyes. “Oh, I want you to show them what you can do. Make them ease up on me. I even wager, not one soul on this field could defeat you. Hear that, you sods?” Sander spun around, glaring at everyone. “You’ll see how I was brought down.”
“Remember though.” I sat on the edge of the water table. “I was not, brother.”
Sander jabbed his practice sword my way, glaring.
“Hardly a comparable moment.” Skadi said over her shoulder. “I was exhausted.”
I scoffed. “And you think I was energized?”
“Much more than me.”
“Hmm. When you finish with my brother, perhaps we’ll see about that, Fire.”
Skadi returned a smug look, then rolled her blade in her hand. “Ready?”
“Truthfully?” Sander shook his head. “No.”
He lunged.
Skadi blocked Sander’s strike aimed at her leg and kicked at his thigh. He rolled over his shoulder and swung at her spine. The bronze of her dulled blade blocked. She parried. He cut at her ribs.
The more she fought the more her eyes brightened like a dying star. She dodged, struck, jabbed. The woman was a damn sight and I could not look away.
Kryv and townsfolk paused to watch, some even passing over copper penge coin, placing barters on who’d walk away victorious.
Sander’s black steel collided with Skadi’s bronze between their faces.
He darkened his eyes again and said with a snarl, “Show them.”
Her arms shuddered under the pressure of his hold, a look of uncertainty on her features.
After a drawn pause, Skadi swiftly shifted one of her hands. With the slightest touch across the guard of Sander’s sword, the blade was swallowed in a wave of dark mists. With the blade faded from his grip, Sander stumbled forward.
She promptly pulled her blade away. If she hadn’t, with their position, their nearness, Sander would’ve landed on the point. Even with a dull sparring sword, it would ache and bruise. In a true battle, with the position, it would’ve run him through.
But . . . possibly not intentionally.
Mists still hovered at my brother’s back. Skadi spun on her heel, racing around him, and reached into her darkness. From the cloud of her affinity, she pulled the black steel blade free.
Breaths heavy, Sander opened his arms. “See! How the hells do you win when she can pluck your damn blades from your hand?”
“Was that how it happened?” I hadn’t meant to shout the question. But when gazes fell on me, I pressed again. “Was that what happened?”
“Not exactly.” Sander wiped sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. “But close. I told you brother, I recalled an apology whispered in my ear.”
“I’ve offered to show you, son,” my mother called from across the field.
I refused to watch the memory. To watch Sander nearly bleed out once before was one time too many. I had no plans to relive the experience. My folk were never one to push, but my mother had tried to show me the memory many times once I announced I’d been granted permission from Eldirard.
Skadi gathered the two swords, avoiding my attention.
“Is that how it went?” My voice was edged in grit.
“It was my fault your brother was wounded. Don’t mistake it for anything else.”
“Was it intentional?”
Skadi rubbed a hand on the back of her neck. “I wanted to remove the threat—the blade—but . . . I didn’t intend for him to fall into the knife. You all kept coming after that. I felt I had no choice but to use my affinity against you.”
Her darkness had stolen my blade much the same as she’d done just now. Hells, she had even swallowed Aleksi whole, tossing him across the palace room. But she never tried to kill us. It was as she said, more like she wanted to disarm us.
Sander’s wound was a damn accident?
Her hands were forced to fight. Skadi feared her own magic, she never wished to use it for cruelty, and she hadn’t wanted to kill any of us even though we invaded her palace.
Heat from desire for more of her dug deeper.
I cleared my throat and took hold of her hand, curling her slender fingers around the hilt. “I believe I demanded a rematch as well, Wife.”
Dorsan cleared his throat. “Forgive me, My Lord. It ought to be known, the princess should not engage her affinity much more in aggressive acts such as sparring and battle.”
A little of Skadi’s starlight gleam left her eyes. “He’s probably right.”
“Why?”
“You’ve seen why,” she said, voice soft. “I cannot—should not—step into the dark too long when the intent is to overpower, cause pain, or defeat another. I grow cold and become . . .”
I lifted her chin with my thumb. “Become what?”
She hesitated. “Heartless. A bit of a monster.”
Only when her power was questioned did the fire douse in her gaze. While using it, with Sander practically boasting about her ability, Skadi damn near beamed with pride.
I brushed my mouth against her ear. “Then be monstrous, Wife.”
Skadi drew in a sharp breath.
“No one is intending to hurt anyone today,” I went on, “other than your feelings, perhaps. I plan to best you, so prepare to weep in your defeat.”
Soon enough, her lips parted in a grin. “I hope you’ve said your farewells, Husband.”
“Farewells?”
“You won’t be showing your face in front of anyone for at least a week once I am through with you.”