CHAPTER 32 - Dancer's Advantage
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Peony might have been better staffed than Clover or Daisy, but it still lacked enough hands to manage the endless tasks of winter preparation. I wasn't about to let precious supplies rot by the castle doors while frost clawed its way across the stone.
I glanced at Virella, swathed in a heavy gown of dark pink, trimmed with golden rabbit fur. In contrast, I wore a thin pink dress I'd stolen from Skye upon leaving Drakfjord.
"It's still two weeks until winter," I replied, shifting the sack to ease the ache in my arms.
Virella huffed, her breath misting in the cold air.
"I simply cannot fathom the two of you."
Sireen, walking beside us with an equally heavy burlap sack, hummed dreamily.
"In Vrostvale, it's always snowing. White dunes stretch endlessly. I miss that."
Virella cast a pointed look at Sireen's thin dress.
"You're both mad," she said, tugging her fur-lined collar tighter. "The windows are already frosting over in the mornings."
I shrugged.
"In Drakfjord, we don't mind the cold. Our dance festivals are best when it rains. We even have a special dance during winter. You should see the women perform amidst the snowfall. It's magical."
Virella shivered.
"I'll stick to summer and sun, thank you. You should visit Driftwoode instead. There's a Tidal Festival where men swim out to the Isle of Azure to bring back jeweled clams for the women they fancy. I received more than a few in my time."
"How many years ago was that?" I teased, smirking.
Her glare was sharp enough to cut.
"That's very romantic," Sireen said, sighing wistfully. "In Vrostvale, men hunt sea lions for their beloved. They skin them on the shore, and if the woman accepts his advances, she wears the pelt while it's still warm."
Virella and I exchanged glances.
"That's... certainly an interesting tradition," I said cautiously.
Virella shifted uncomfortably.
"I wouldn't turn down a pelt right now," she muttered.
The kitchen doors creaked open ahead of us, releasing a wave of warm air thick with the savory aroma of roasted meat and spiced broth.
Inside, the two cooks moved franticly, their faces flushed from the heat of the flames.
They paused only long enough to nod their thanks before returning to their work.
We set to sorting the grain, the repetitive task a welcome routine. As usual, Virella was the one to break the silence.
"Please tell me once we reach Lavender these tasks will come to an end," she groaned.
"It will," I assured her with a chuckle.
"Good," she sighed. "I'm positive our gift to His Majesty will earn our promotion. We have all been practicing so much."
"As long as the Nightshades don't try anything, it should be guaranteed," I said. "Though we still need some more dresses tailored. The emperor's birthday will last for an entire month."
"Perhaps we could earn more than one promotion then," Virella smiled.
"Perhaps," I agreed.
Though not before I stop those letters regarding the sea snake first.
Once the grains were sorted, we lingered only long enough to help where we could before heading to the dining hall. I eyed my plate with care, inspecting every morsel. Even the water earned a cautious sniff before I dared to drink.
Since getting poisoned at the welcoming banquet, vigilance had been my top priority. Virella mirrored my caution, though Sireen seemed entirely unbothered. I ended up checking her plate before allowing her to eat.
"Oh, I think I know what I am most excited for once we reach Lavender," Virella said, dabbing at her lips as we finished our meal. "Finally, we'll have our own handmaiden."
"I suppose it would ease some of our burdens," I agreed.
When we returned to our chambers, I bid Virella and Sireen goodnight. They disappeared toward the bathing chamber, while I slipped into a faded pink gown and pulled a dark gray cloak over my shoulders.
"A warning," Ryn said from the dagger at my side. "You've died to handmaidens several times. They're all spies for the Nightshades. They'd sell your secrets no matter how much you tried to pay them off or how well you treated them."
My fingers tightened on the cloak's clasp.
This information was expected, but the fact that I had fallen victim to the same ploy over more than one lifetime tasted rather bitter on my tongue.
"We'll have to avoid handmaidens altogether then," I muttered.
Satisfied that no one lingered to watch me, I moved quietly through the castle halls.
When I slipped into the courtyard, the crisp night air stung my cheeks.
Thorned vines twisted like dark veins along the walls, their shadows jagged under the pale glow of the moon.
My cloak skimmed the cobblestones as I made my way to the mountain path.
It had been several weeks since I began meeting Cavriel here.
The path was still, disturbed only by the whisper of wind through skeletal trees. I kept my senses alert. Cavriel had an irritating fondness for ambushes. But I had an advantage he had no clue of.
"He's behind you. To your left," Ryn yawned from Raincatcher.
"Nice try," I murmured, spinning around as I pointed my dagger ahead.
Cavriel stepped out from the shadows, blond curls catching silver light, a scowl already carving itself deep into his face.
"I still don't understand how you do that," he muttered, leaning against his spear. "It should be impossible to sense me when I'm deep-sea walking."
He'd explained Driftwoode's stealth technique before, but I never really wrapped my head around it. Something about moving as though under water. Whatever it was, it failed spectacularly against someone with a ghost on their side.
"Maybe you're just not very good at it," I said smugly.
His scowl darkened, but he fell into step beside me. We headed toward our usual little clearing, the breeze tugging at my dark hair. I tucked a loose strand behind my ear.
"So," I said lightly, "is Driftwoode preparing for Sylvos' new griffons? He'll surely send them after your fleet."
Cavriel twirled his spear without looking at me.
"Yes. We're already working on ballistae to counter them.
But that's not my main concern." His voice lowered.
"I'm more troubled by this fleet he's supposedly building.
We have spies scattered across Thornmont, but no forests have been touched.
No lumberyards are bustling. Where is he getting the timber? "
I frowned.
In my first life, war councils and strategic discussions had been far from my reach. All I knew was the devastation Sylvos' fleet had wrought. It was only the kraken that succeeded in sinking his ships. Though once the sea snake appeared, the battle was lost for Driftwoode.
"I can't ask the emperor himself," I sighed. "It would look too suspicious."
Cavriel glanced at me sidelong but said nothing.
We reached the clearing, moonlight spilling onto the worn patch of earth we used for practice. He handed me one of his practice daggers, the leather-wrapped hilt worn smooth.
"Ready?" he asked, sliding his spear onto his back and rolling his shoulders into a stance.
"Do I have a choice?" I groaned.
"No," he said with a smirk. "Try not to embarrass yourself this time."
I gritted my teeth, and we began.
Cavriel moved with fluid precision, his strikes swift and unrelenting. I deflected as best I could, the dagger vibrating in my grip with each collision.
My arms burned with exertion, a bitter reminder of my neglected training back in Drakfjord. The basics I had once dismissed as unimportant now felt like chains around my wrists, dragging me down as I struggled to keep pace. After all this time with Cavriel, my progress was still pitifully slow.
"Come on, little girl," the knight taunted. "Keep hesitating like that in a real fight, and you're dead."
"I know that, trust me," I grumbled.
I lunged, aiming low for his side, but he slipped away like water.
The flat of his blade tapped my wrist, a feather-light touch that mocked me far more than a bruise would've.
"Too slow," he grinned.
I glared, my chest heaving.
"Do you have to enjoy this so much?"
"Who says I'm enjoying it?"
"Oh, please." I rolled my eyes. "You almost never smile. You must be ecstatic right now."
His grin vanished like it had been a mistake.
"Again," he commanded, his voice cold and clipped.
So, we kept going.
Each strike came faster, heavier. He drove me back with a rhythm that was as predictable yet unavoidable as waves against the shore. Despite the ache in my limbs and the bitter sting of his criticisms, I pressed on. If nothing else, I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me falter.
As I paused to catch my breath, Cavriel paced around me, his green eyes narrowed.
"Your stance is wrong," he said, tapping my ankle with his boot. "Wider. You'll have better balance."
"Balance is not something I have issues with," I smirked.
He shoved me, hard, but I easily absorbed the momentum with a twist of my hips, keeping my footing.
His brows lifted. Just a little.
"See?" I smirked. "Dancer's advantage."
Cavriel stepped back, folding his arms.
"Fine. But if you freeze up after a deflection again, I will knock you flat."
"As flat as you were the first time we met?" I teased.
"Your mutt pounced on me."
"Perhaps if your stance was better, you'd have remained on your feet."
His scowl returned.
Without warning, Cavriel grabbed his spear from across his back and brought it down upon me. My body moved before my mind could catch up. I quickly sidestepped and moved in close, my blade aimed at his throat. He grabbed my wrist at the last second.
"So, you can improve," he scoffed, shoving me back.
"High praise coming from you," I said, wiping the sweat from my brow. "I could probably fend off an attacker now. Perhaps for about... ten seconds?"
"It's not about fending them off. You don't fight to buy time. You fight to end it. You either kill, or you give them another chance to kill you."
The word hit me like a gust of cold wind.
Kill.
It shouldn't have caught me off guard. That was the point of all this. But hearing it out loud made the intent behind my training heavier.
"You're listening, right?"
Cavriel waved a hand in front of my face.
I slapped it away.
"Obviously."
He quirked a brow.
"You looked like you were about to faint."
"I was imagining how satisfying it would be if I actually stabbed you."
"Mm." His lips twitched as he unsheathed the sword at his side. "Then let's switch things up."
I eyed him warily.
"You might not always have a dagger," Cavriel said. "You need to learn how to wield a sword too. It's harder, but necessary."
He extended the weapon toward me. I took it, nearly dropping it as the weight pulled at my arms.
"Gods, this thing is heavy," I muttered, adjusting my grip awkwardly.
He scoffed.
"It's only a longsword. Surely, given your family wields one of the cursed swords, you've had training?"
I waved him off, fumbling to find a more comfortable hold on the hilt.
"Swordplay was my sister's domain. Claude's always been a natural at it."
Cavriel arched a brow.
"You're second in line. If anything happens to her, the storm sword falls to you. What then?"
"Nothing will happen to my sister," I said sharply, meeting his gaze with a glare. "Preparing for tragedy is only inviting it."
He laughed dryly, the sound devoid of humor.
"And how far will that kind of thinking get you? If you're ever caught in a fight with only a sword, what will you do? Cry?"
"I'm not going to cry," I snapped.
"Good," he smirked. "Then you won't cry about this either."
Before I could speak, his spear came whistling toward my face.
Instinct surged. I raised my sword just in time — steel clashed against steel with a sound like ringing bells. The impact jolted through my arms, leaving them numb and trembling. I didn't stumble, but my grip faltered. The sword nearly slipped from my grasp.
"What is wrong with you?" I hissed. "I wasn't ready!"
"Stop whining," Cavriel said flatly. "You won't always be ready in a real fight."
He didn't give me a chance to recover. Another strike. Then another. I parried each as best I could, sweat blurring my vision, my breath burning in my chest. We continued like this until my limbs refused to obey.
"Well," Cavriel said at last, lowering his spear. "Next time, work on your strength. Use a branch or broom if you must. Swing until you get those muscles properly developed."
"Right," I muttered, the sword heavy as stone in my aching hand.
As usual, he didn't linger. With our training for tonight complete, he took his sword back and pulled his hood up.
"Until next time," he said, giving a last nod before disappearing down the trail.
"Goodbye to you too," I grumbled.
I took a long breath and began the slow walk back to Peony Castle. My muscles screamed for rest, my skin slick with sweat and cold night air. More than anything, I longed for a hot bath and silence.
But the moment I stepped into my chambers, something felt wrong.
I wasn't alone.
A cloaked figure stood near my desk, casually examining my belongings.
It couldn't have been Cavriel.
Without hesitation, I reached for Raincatcher at my side.
"Turn around," I commanded.
The figure straightened slowly, their movements measured and unbothered. When they turned, lowering their hood, my breath caught in my throat.
Sylvos.
The emperor stood before me, his silver hair catching the faint light like threads of spun frost. Black eyes gleamed with amusement, his lips curving into a smirk that sent a shiver through me.
"Well," he drawled, leaning lazily against my desk. "Go on, then. Show me what you plan to do with that dagger, Princess."
My grip tightened on the hilt, the blade trembling with the force of my restraint.
"I could have killed you," I said.
"And I thank you for your mercy," he chuckled. "Shall I reward you?"
I exhaled sharply, my chest tight with frustration. With a sharp motion, I sheathed the dagger and unclasped my cloak, hanging it up.
"Don't make offers you cannot fulfill, Your Majesty," I said flatly.
His smirk deepened.
"Oh? And what reward would you demand, Princess?"
I sighed, feigning disinterest.
"Five thousand gold coins, perhaps. Now tell me, why are you in my room?"
He stepped forward as though we were real lovers, meeting in secret.
"I've been occupied, as you might expect. Preparing for war consumes most of my time. But I realized it's been far too long since we've had a proper conversation. I worried you might miss me."
"And breaking into my room in the dead of night was your solution?"
"Undoubtedly." His gaze flicked to the dagger at my hip, lingering there just long enough to unnerve me. "Besides, this isn't your room. Everything here is mine."
His black eyes fixed on mine with the hidden implication of his words.
I crossed my arms.
"Well, as you can see, your things are perfectly intact. So why are you really here?"
He stepped past me, his fingers trailing over the pillows on my bed as though inspecting their quality.
"Where is the vylnir?" he asked.
The question caught me off guard.
"It likes to hunt and wander about. It will come if I call."
"Then call it," he said.
I frowned, stepping to the window and unlatching it. The night air rushed in as I leaned out, scanning the darkness beyond.
Why was Sylvos so eager to see the creature?
"Vyvy!" I called. "Cσ?? ?α??!"
Sylvos remained behind me as I stepped back with a sigh. I headed for my desk, retrieving a handful of dried plums from the drawer. Moving back to the window, I waved the treats.
"Vyvy, I ?α?? ??α???!" I coaxed.
The seconds stretched in tense silence before a shadow rippled across the moonlit sky.
It flew closer, blue eyes emerging from the darkness.
Then the vylnir landed with predatory elegance, its raven form perched on the windowsill.
Sinewy black fur bristled over its body, sharp teeth gleaming beneath a jagged beak.
It grinned at me before finally noticing Sylvos. Vyvy's owl-like ears pulled back as it squawked at the emperor.
I reached out and tapped its twisted beak.
"B??α??," I commanded. "W? ?α?'? ??? ?ι? σ? ?ι? ?ι??? ?σ?."
I shoved the dried plums toward it as an apology.
Vyvy's reflective eyes shifted to me, wary yet obedient, before quickly digging into its treat.
Sylvos watched with a detached fascination, his smirk returning as if the creature's hostility amused him.
"It truly is extraordinary," he murmured. "And you've named it... Vyvy?"
"It stuck," I replied
"Your control over it is remarkable. Better than I could have imagined."
"Will you tell me what you want now?"
His eyes softened.
"I wish to show you something. The vylnir should come too. But I suggest you put that cloak back on. We can't risk being seen."
My brows furrowed at the absurdity of his suggestion.
"Where are we going? And why in secret?"
"Come with me and you'll find out," Sylvos smirked, extending his hand. "We'll slip out of the castle before any spies catch wind of us. What I want to show you could guarantee our victory in this war. Not just against Driftwoode, but the entire continent."
My heart stilled at his words.
Victory across the entire continent?
If he had found such an advantage... I had to know what it was.
Reluctantly, I placed my hand in his.
His grin widened.
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