Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
BIANCA
I know things will get bad when the crowd opens for us as we approach. Their eyes take me in from head to toe. I’m being sized up, so I keep my expression calm and neutral, being sure to give them nothing. This is a test of sorts, I can feel it.
Roman’s expression comes into view as I step into the middle of the crowd. I’m learning to detest that face of his. I can tell he’s not over yesterday’s events by the sneer directed my way. Jesse stands next to him. The Lord of Wisdom’s expression is more curious than anything. From this angle, I have a realization. He’s their third brother. His eyes are the same shade of gold as Brandon and Roman’s. However, now that we are out in the light and I can fully see them, there is no mistaking his similarities to Roman. Jesse is the hairless version of his older brother.
“Here.” Alejandra hands me a bag.
I look inside and see similar training clothes to the ones everyone around us is wearing. She gestures with a nod to a changing room next to the bathrooms. I can see the sign from where I am. Without asking for further instructions, I head over to change.
I inspect the fabric closer once I’m inside. The feel of it is soft and quick to dry. The pants are a dark green shade with small Royal Force lettering on the edge of the waistband. It all fits well and feels comfortable.
I stare at myself in the mirror in the empty bathroom, holding the white sink with both hands and squeezing as hard as possible. I hate this and how nothing can be easy. How hard everything feels. After a minute of self-pity, it’s time for my pep talk.
I point at the woman staring back at me in the mirror. “There is no room for fear here.” I hold her gaze with an unnerving determination to show everyone in this forsaken castle what I am made of. If I can survive the streets of Fierno, I can survive it all.
“Are you done?” Alejandra looks beyond bored. She is leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed.
I’m unsure how much of that she witnessed, but I don’t have it in me to care. “What first?”
Alejandra looks and sounds completely professional as she describes how she needs to assess where I am for my training. Today will be a magic-free sparring session with a cadet of the academy. When we walk outside again, a significantly smaller number of people are walking around.
Other sparring sessions have broken out in two circles, only leaving a few people in the closest one where the brothers are still standing. I’m fooling myself into hoping they aren’t here to watch me. Getting my ass handed to me will be much worse with an audience.
I don’t plan on letting that happen, but the chances are high. I’m confident in my abilities, but I’ve never gone against trained men and women like the ones here .
Alejandra makes a straight line for Roman. She blurts something quickly to him before calling for someone in the crowd. A man about my age steps to the middle of the circle. Roman stops the man from walking any further with a single gesture of his hand.
“Roger,” Roman calls while holding my gaze.
A man about three times my size and fifty pounds heavier than me steps up. His shoulders are so broad that his shirt stretches thin across his chest, making the fabric a little transparent. I give him one look and gulp. The royal asshole is planning to make me pay.
Jesse’s face is blank from any emotion, but I can see the glimmer in his eyes. The asshole thinks this is funny. I could get killed by this monster of a man. Maybe they want to see me squirm or beg. The sadistic asshole doesn’t know I’d rather choke on my own blood.
Alejandra doesn’t look amused, but she doesn’t intervene. The smugness in Roman’s smirk lights me up from the inside out. I’ll show him. With that thought bouncing inside my head, I turn to face my opponent.
“Hand-to-hand combat. No magic,” Alejandra instructs, and the man across from me rolls his eyes.
I center my emotions and tuck them away. I focus on the man standing between me and the win. I begin my assessment. He is much taller than me and has longer legs, but he carries much more muscle than me. He is probably not as fast. His ugly smirk shows a few missing teeth, and I note he’s not a clean fighter. No one that looks like that is.
“Ready to dance, princess?” The man mocks me.
I scrutinize his stance and how his arms and legs hang loosely around his body. He isn’t even trying. He thinks this is going to be easy. The element of surprise will be my biggest asset .
“Get this over with,” I say, more to myself than him, but from the huff in his chest, I know he heard me. I step back and flinch away from him. I force my eyes to look around for help, knowing damn well I’ll find none.
He takes that opportunity to go for the attack, and that is all I need. His body moves faster than I expected, but far too slow for me. By the time he attempts to tackle me, I move out of the way and bury my knee in his ribcage. The only noise we hear is the huff of air leaving his lungs. He falls forward on all fours. There is no deafening noise of a broken bone. I would know, since I have heard it far too often in my life. I don’t give him a chance to recuperate before quickly jumping on his back. Once his chest hits the floor, I forcefully shove my knee on the back of his neck and hold it there snuggly.
"Soldier," Roman says through gritted teeth to Roger.
Roger is too busy trying to breathe to acknowledge his commander. I gather the man’s arm and twist it behind his back at an angle, so that a simple tug would take it out of his socket. Maybe not a simple tuck—since he comes with more muscle than bones—but I can put my back into it.
Roger doesn’t seem interested in testing the logistics of the potential tear. He uses his other hand to tap the floor in surrender.
The pride and joy I feel as I let go of his arm and step back is colossal. It’s also short-lived.
Jesse Oscuro chuckles behind me. A glint of something shows on Alejandra’s face as she takes notes on a pad. Roman doesn’t share their amusement at my accomplishment.
“Al,” the guard general calls out.
A slimmer and taller man walks into the circle. He pats Roger on the back, shooting him a condescending smile before facing me. He’s not looking at me with the same pitying expression his teammate did. No, Al saw what I can do; he’s assessing me. I can see the determination behind his eyes to not allow me to make him look like a fool.
At first, Al circles me and attempts to take out my legs, but I manage to get out of reach just in time. I stick to defensive moves, hoping he’ll make a mistake or tire himself out. From my heavy gasps and his easy breaths, I can tell he has more conditioning than me.
I need to attack and to catch him off guard, that’s my only hope. But how can I do that when he watches me so closely? I think about who he is. No tags identify him, but I know he belongs to Roman’s personal guards from the small group he parted from. I assume he possesses advanced training and has been involved in combat for years. I realize that my street fighting will be the only thing he is probably not expecting.
I don’t hesitate to go in to attack and close the distance, going for a few blows. I already know he will cover those easily. What he doesn’t see coming is how I scrape my nails down his face, nearly poking his eyes out. He stumbles back and lands on his ass, not expecting the feline-like attack. I use his surprise in my favor, wrap my thighs around his neck, and flip so I’m kneeling on the floor. My front is facing his back. My hands land on the back of his tights, and I push them down on the ground. I add pressure to my thighs, getting close to suffocating him without actually doing it.
“What in the actual fuck?” I hear Roman call out.
His disbelief mirrors the expression of many people staring at me with open mouths. Except for one. I lock eyes with Jesse across the circle; his smirk is gleeful. He’s beyond entertained, I dare say, impressed.
“Who is next?” I direct my question to Alejandra.
Unlike everyone else, she takes detailed notes on a notepad instead of gawking. Despite her attitude, she uses Roman’s little power display to assess my level .
Roman is about to call the next name, but Alejandra interrupts, “I think you’re done proving yourself.” Her facial expression leaves no room for questions. Roman doesn’t argue; he gives her a nod and steps aside.
I’m still on top of Al. When I stand and help him up, the trail of my nails is more visible, with a small sheen of blood on his face. He dusts his pants and shirt as best as possible before huffing away.
“Great, seeing you hold your own with Roman’s men reassures me you’ll do fine with mine.” She gestures to the younger group off to the side. They look fit and confident, but much younger than the other crowds I’ve seen.
“Welcome your new addition,” Alejandra instructs the group.
Their lack of greeting doesn’t bother me, but the sizing looks do. Does anybody here smile?
“Bianca will train with you for the tour. As I told you all earlier, your performance over the next two weeks will earn you the specific post you will hold during the tour.” She turns to me and, in a hushed tone, says, “Try to make it look like you earn yours. It’ll make it easier to explain why you will guard the crown prince and they will not.” She picks up two sandbags from the floor next to me. “Let’s start with seven laps, grab your bags.”
I watch as each of them does as they are told in formation. I wait until the last one has gone to pick up the two bags. They’re not heavy, but that won’t be my opinion once I run the third lap. Alejandra watches me, and despite not having eyes on the back of my neck, I know Jesse and Roman are too. I pull the bags closer to my chest before setting after my group’s last trainee.
After what feels like twenty laps and a day full of conditioning, I’m directed to the showers. Once I wash the dirt off and step into the locker room, I find Alejandra and the girl from earlier today.
“Sofia will take you to the library to continue your training.” Alejandra doesn't wait for me to respond before exiting the room.
Like a child needing supervision, I’m handed off to a young girl waiting for me with an eager smile. Sofia is a chatter box as we walk through the castle. She tells me how the second and third parts of my training will take place in the library. I’m expected to use magic in combat, and while I excel at hand to hand combat, my knowledge of spells is minimal. Her words are kind. Alejandra must have updated her on my performance while I showered.
Learning spells was what I was most excited about, but now my body feels fried. “Do I really need to do this now?” I tap my finger on the stack of books on my desk. Maybe I can get out of this. “My combat skills aren’t lacking. I put all those guys on their backs in the training circles.” I don’t mean to brag but the glee in my tone is evident.
I can’t feel my arms after the conditioning. I don’t remember the last time my body felt this exhausted. Now, I’m expected to study on top of that.
“Which shows potential,” Sofia says with a smile. “Let’s learn to do that with more technique, less hair pulling and face scratching.”
Santiago drops yet another textbook volume in front of me and the bang on the table startles me, making them laugh. Sofia and Santiago are unlike anyone else in the castle, with their smiles and willingness to help.
“You should begin with simple defensive spells and work your way to the offensive ones,” Santiago says as he finally sits with us. He seems to be the one in charge of this part of my training. “Next week, we’ll start on history. This takes precedence.”
“Will we be practicing here?” I look around the low lighted library. No doubt Santiago can point at a random door, and a private training hall will appear behind it. Yet both giggle like I said a joke.
“Oh, you are serious.” Sofia sobers up. “No, you do that with my sister in the training yard. Here, we’ll only learn and memorize spells.”
“I don’t know why you won’t ask your sister for a position on her guard.” Santiago crosses his arms and leans back on the chair.
Sofia’s face instantly blushes. Sofia and Alejandra being siblings is news to me, but I can see it. They don’t look as similar as the Oscuro brothers, but that might be because of their age difference. Sofia has a beautiful youthful face that only someone in their late teens has.
“Does it look like I can defend anything?” she asks as she flips her hair to one side.
Her build is like mine, so I want to say she can learn like I did because her size or gender shouldn’t prevent her from doing anything. Especially in a world where magic is abundantly available to enhance abilities.
“You can work doing office stuff,” Santiago offers with a grimace.
“Having Alejandra boss me around would be a nightmare. I had enough of that growing up. I would rather live out my days in the heat of the kitchen ovens. It’s better than whatever hell she cooks up in her ranks.”
“You like what you do in the kitchens?” My question is mostly to prompt more information about what she does. I can’t help my curiosity.
“I like it well enough.” Her eyes don’t meet mine .
“She wants to teach.” Santiago looks at her with pride. “She volunteers in the local school outside the castle on the weekends.”
I see Sofia with a new perspective. Her smile is sheepish.
“Why can’t you do that full-time?” I think about the responsibilities and rules placed on people living at the castle. Would Brandon Oscuro and his people find the job beneath them? I lower my voice and look around to ensure no one is overhearing us. “Does Brandon not let you?”
They burst out in laughter again. “Brandon can be many things, but a meddler isn’t one.” Sofia looks down at the books before us and then back at me. “I haven’t been able to pass my certifications, so I volunteered to help you with an alternative motive. I figured helping you study beginner magic would also give me the best opportunity to study.”
I try not to get offended at the way her tone lowered while describing my level of magic, but I can’t help it. The opportunities I had where I am from is what held me back, not my lack of trying. Yet, I feel a rush of shame like it's somehow my fault.
Santiago beams at the idea. “Let’s get started. We only have two weeks.” He gestures to the first chapter of Deadly Defense.
I hope the title is an oxymoron.