Chapter 30
Chapter
Thirty
Z ander stalked toward me, his expression dark and brooding—whatever conversation he’d just had with Dorian clearly hadn’t gone well. He barely slowed as he reached the edge of the mats, his sharp gaze locking onto mine.
“Prospect Rebec, in the ring,” he ordered, his tone clipped.
I swallowed hard and stepped forward. Whatever tension was riding him was likely about to be unleashed in this match. My fingers twitched, still aching slightly from gripping the rapier earlier. Zander squared off in front of me, his stance solid, his eyes narrowed.
“Your form is improving,” he murmured, voice low enough that only I could hear. “But your footing is too heavy. Move like you’re balancing on ice.”
I shifted my weight, trying to mimic the precision he demanded.
“Better,” he muttered, but then leaned in slightly, lowering his voice even more. “Your sister just entered the grounds.”
“Solei?” The surprise slipped out before I could stop it.
“Do you know why she’s here?” he asked, his dark gaze locked on mine.
“No,” I whispered. “I had no idea.”
“Let it play out,” he said quietly. “If she contacts you, find out why she’s here.”
I nodded, pulse racing. Solei was cunning, and strategic—if she was walking through the castle grounds, she had a reason. One that probably wasn’t good.
Zander straightened and stepped back. “Cade,” he called out, “Watch the Thralls for me. I’ll be back shortly.”
Cade’s grin widened as he approached us. “You got it, sir.”
I let out a breath as Zander strode off the mats, his dark leather armor fading into the crowd. My eyes flicked toward the edge of the grounds, but I couldn’t spot Solei. Whatever she was planning, she didn’t want to be seen.
“Rebec!” Cade barked. “Pay attention.”
I snapped my focus back to the ring just in time to see Naia circle Cade.
He was guiding her with sharp instructions, correcting her footing and timing her strikes.
His advice was blunt, but effective, and Naia was sharper because of it.
I got caught up in the match, drawn into the rhythm of their movements, almost forgetting about Solei—almost.
I didn’t notice Major Kaler approaching until his shadow fell over me.
“Prospect Rebec,” he said coldly. “Come with me.”
I stiffened, glancing quickly toward Cade, but he was too focused on Naia to notice.
“Now,” Major Kaler snapped.
The major’s heavy steps echoed on the stone as I followed him toward Iron Fang’s training ring. My mind was spinning, questions racing, but I kept quiet. I had a bad feeling about whatever this was, and I wasn’t about to give Major Kaler the satisfaction of seeing me rattled.
When we stopped, Perin was already waiting inside the ring, a wicked grin curling on his lips. The curved knife he held gleamed menacingly in the afternoon sun.
“As a new squad leader,” Major Kaler announced, his voice loud enough to draw attention from nearby cadets, “Perin has the right to challenge any member of Fourth Guild. He chose you.” His gaze flicked to me, cold and emotionless.
“Weapons are permitted. Draw first blood and the match ends. Simple.”
I swallowed hard as I stepped into the ring, pulling the rapier Zander had given me from its sheath. The slender blade felt balanced in my grip, a reminder that Zander had believed I could hold my own—and I’d damn well prove him right.
Perin’s grin widened. “This won’t take long.”
We began to circle, my eyes locked on his knife, reading the subtle shifts in his weight. He moved like a snake—smooth, fluid, and predatory. His blade glinted as he feinted left, then lashed out to the right. I barely dodged in time, twisting away from the strike. My pulse hammered in my chest.
“What’s going on?” Cade’s voice rang out.
“The new squad leader challenged Prospect Rebec,” Major Kaler answered dismissively. “It’s her duty to accept.”
“She just needs a cut,” Perin sneered. “Surely she can recover from that.”
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” Cade snapped.
“This isn’t a game. It’s the law of the guild,” the major shot back.
Perin lunged again, faster this time. I deflected his blade with my rapier, the clang of metal ringing in my ears. He was stronger than me, but I was quicker on my feet.
Stay balanced, I reminded myself. He’s overconfident.
Perin grinned like he knew exactly what I was thinking. His knife flashed upward—fast and precise—and I stumbled back just in time to avoid the blade slashing across my throat. His smug grin widened.
“Almost lost your pretty head,” he taunted.
But he’d overreached. His balance faltered—just slightly—and I shifted my weight, pivoting low and fast. My blade shot out, slicing across his ankle. The cut was shallow but enough to draw blood.
Perin staggered back with a sharp hiss, clutching his ankle as crimson seeped through his boot.
“You are dead , Rebec,” he growled.
I straightened, chest heaving, and held my rapier firmly. “Looks like you’re the one bleeding.”
His eyes flared with fury, and I knew this wasn’t over.
I followed Cade back to the ring designated for Thrall Squad, but noticed a figure slip into our room. “Cade, can I go to the washroom?”
Cade nodded and I jogged to my room. Solei was sitting on my bed when I opened the door. I raced to her and gave her a hug.
“It’s so good to see you. Why are you here?”
Solei winked at me. “Cyran wants to see you. I volunteered to give you the message.”
“The guards know you are here.”
“Of course they do, I made sure they informed Zander so I could speak with you.”
“I should have known, nobody would see you unless you wanted them to. What does Cyran want?”
“I don’t know, but he summoned you to come home. He offered amnesty, just in case you assumed someone meant you harm.”
“At least I know he isn’t trying to kill me. That’s something I suppose.” My gaze moved over Solei’s brown robes. She was dressed as a courier and blended perfectly except that she had her hood down, exposing her blond braids. “I miss you.”
She smiled. “I miss you too, but I am not about to fight your dragon to get next to you.”
I grunted. “Kaelith isn’t talking to me right now. I don’t know what is going on with her.”
She winked at me. “I hear dragons can be finicky. Don’t sweat it. Everybody falls in love with you, eventually.”
“Hardly,” I said. “Ring matches are almost done. I will slip away as soon as they finish.”
Solei got up from my bed. “I’ll see you at home.” She pulled the hood up over her head and slipped outside. I exited a minute later and rejoined my squad. When Zander returned, I motioned to him.
“Solei was here. My father wants to talk to me.”
His lips thinned. “It’s too dangerous.”
“He offered me amnesty. That means that I can meet with him and leave without incident. He won’t break Order code.”
Zander stepped away from me. “Prospect Rebec. You will report to a healer and return in one hour.”
I nodded and jogged toward the yarrow gardens before ducking to the side and exiting the front gate under Gerane’s watchful eye.
The streets of Warriath were alive with movement as I slipped through the winding alleys, hood pulled low to obscure my face.
Merchants called out their prices, bartering voices rising above the crowd.
The air smelled of roasted meat and stale ale, mixing with the dampness clinging to the cobblestone streets.
I turned down a narrow lane behind a tailor’s shop, past a pair of drunks slumped against a wall.
The tavern was ahead— The Rusty Tankard .
It looked no different than any other pub, but those who knew what they were looking for understood its true purpose.
The Order of Thorn’s base was tucked beneath its foundation, hidden beneath layers of shadows and secrets.
The tavern’s interior was warm and loud.
Bodies crowded around tables, men laughing too loudly and women curling around patrons who had too much coin and not enough sense.
The bartender didn’t glance at me as I weaved through the tables, my steps purposeful as I headed toward the narrow staircase concealed at the back.
I descended as my boots scuffed the worn stone steps. The air cooled the deeper I went, lanterns flickering low on the walls. At the bottom, I made my way down the hall.
Cyran was already waiting in his office. The room smelled of parchment and pipe smoke, his dark wood desk littered with maps and letters. His sharp gaze flicked to me the moment I entered.
“You look different,” he said, voice casual but laced with that ever-present calculation.
“Not really,” I replied evenly, stepping into the room.
He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. “I heard a rumor.”
“I’m sure you’ve heard plenty,” I said without inflection.
His smile curled—that sharp, knowing grin that always set me on edge. “Well, this one’s a little concerning. I’m told Remy is alive... and a noble.”
I stiffened, fingers curling into fists at my sides. “He’s alive. Everything I knew about him was a lie, and I have no idea who he truly is.”
“He used you,” Cyran said with a faint chuckle, as though it amused him. “Used you to get to me.”
“Yes,” I muttered, hating the way the admission tasted on my tongue.
“Clever,” Cyran said with something almost like approval. “It’s a shame he’s loyal to the king.”
I kept my expression neutral. I wasn’t sure what to believe about Remy’s true loyalty, but I knew better than to hand my father that doubt.
“Has he tried to reestablish relations with you?” Cyran’s voice was casual, but the glint in his eyes sharpened.
“No,” I answered, and that part was true.
Cyran’s gaze narrowed. “Could you?”
My nails dug into my palms. “No.”
“You’re lying.” His voice hardened, and my temper flared.
“It doesn’t matter if I could,” I snapped. “I wouldn’t go near that asshole if he was the last man on earth.”
“Don’t let emotion play into this,” Cyran warned, his tone colder now. “He played you. He was better. But you could even the playing field.”