Chapter 7
Chapter
Seven
TATE
Exhausted from the night’s events, I’m late for breakfast, and Ara is nowhere in sight. But my brother is far too happy to inform me that he helped Ara see me for who I am. I have no idea what he means by that, but it can’t be good.
My appetite is gone, so I search for Ara instead.
I find her out in the courtyard, training with my father’s guards. The sunlight teases out the gold in her hair, the short strands around her face lighting up like a halo whenever they catch the light.
She follows along without difficulty or hesitation, reminding me that their routine is probably close to the training she grew up with. There is so much I want to ask her, so much I still don’t know about her, and the thought that I might not get the chance to starts up an ache in my chest.
The central courtyard bustles with activity while nobles and servants cross the white gravel and go about their tasks for the day. I earn curious looks as I lean against the palace wall, my eyes glued to Ara’s movements, but I ignore them.
“If she condemns you that easily, she is not who I thought she was,” Daeva says. I try to let that thought soothe me, but I don’t like the emptiness in Ara’s eyes or the tenseness lingering in her body.
I never spoke about the attack. How could I?
But I know that coming back alone, covered in blood that wasn’t mine and refusing to talk had caused a lot of rumors and opinions.
They never were brave enough to say anything to my face, their fear of what I might do keeping their tongues in check, but I’m not deaf.
What if she believes them?
Corin orders his men to pair up for sparring, and I straighten. I amble closer when the old man offers to spar with her.
“There is no need, Corin. I’ll spar with her.”
Corin shoots me a knowing look over Ara’s shoulder, but Ara’s eyes stay on the floor while we head over to a rack of weapons, not once meeting my eyes until we face each other, swords at the ready. My chest constricts. This is bad.
Her face is empty, emotionless, and somehow that is so much worse than anger, pain, or even disgust ever could be. It’s like she’s shut down completely.
“Sunshine…” I start, not caring that others can hear me, and she charges. Reflex takes over, and I parry and evade while she comes at me again and again.
Her slashes are fast and hard, betraying her empty eyes. When I soften my blows, she grits her teeth and her eyebrows draw together.
“Dammit. Fight me already!” Ara seethes, and finally, there is fire in her eyes. If sparring helps her get it all out there, I’m happy to assist.
We go round for round, focused on each other, the clashing of our swords a fast-paced rhythm.
But since I’m not sure she would let me heal her, and the thought of someone else healing her sets my teeth on edge, I’m careful with my blade.
Ara doesn’t show the same restraint, though.
She is clearly out for blood. I twist, barely avoiding a slash that would have gotten her there, and shake my head when she comes at me again.
“Talk to me, Ara,” I murmur when our swords lock again and I push her back. She shakes her head stubbornly.
“I don’t think she wants to talk,” Daeva comments.
“I’m working on it,” I tell her.
“You’re not doing a good job so far,” she says, and I huff out a breath, refraining from telling her to shut up. I think she gets the message anyway and falls silent.
We go back and forth, and I’m so focused on Ara that I have honestly no idea how long we’ve been sparring for. While I try to get her to open up, she does her best to make a conversation impossible. And I want to smash my brother’s face in.
Ara’s arms start shaking. Her movements become slower and sloppier, her breath labored, but she doesn’t let up.
“That’s enough,” I tell her, but she only shakes her head and keeps coming. Her creeping exhaustion, combined with her recklessness and determination, will get her hurt if she keeps that up.
Our swords tangle again, both our breaths labored huffs in the silence between us. Ara grits her teeth, not relenting even though my sword inches toward her.
“How could you do something like that?” she pants out, and my stomach drops. She believes whatever she heard.
“I would have told you—”
“And you think I would have ever let you lay a finger on me?” Her last words are nearly a whisper. I ease up on the pressure when my blade gets closer to her, only for her to press in. Fucking hell.
“Enough, Ara. Let me explain.”
She shakes her head.
I grind my teeth in frustration, and with a flick of my wrist, I send her sword flying out of her hands. She growls at me, only to dart over and pick her blade back up to come at me again.
“I said that is enough,” I snarl. This time, when I snatch her blade, I let it float back to the rack along with my own.
“It will never be enough,” she growls, her chest heaving, impaling me with her glare. A few whistles and chuckles come from the guards who stop their sparring to watch us.
“Did I say you can laze around?” Corin snaps, and we’re left alone. Or as alone as you can be in the middle of a courtyard filled with soldiers, servants, and nobles who are all too interested in your business.
We stand in front of each other, both our chests rising and falling. But her darting eyes tell me she is about to run. Oh no, you won’t, baby.
I step closer.
“What are you doing?” she snarls.
“Fighting you.” I flip her onto her back, trapping her beneath me. Which turns out to be a fucking horrible idea since it reminds me of the last time I had her pinned beneath me. Naked, in my bed.
Her chest heaves against mine, and her lips part on a gasp, drawing my attention. We both freeze. She is so fucking beautiful that it makes my chest ache.
Our gazes lock, and my lips tingle when her breath skates over them. Her pull on me is so strong that I lean in without even thinking about it.
“Don’t you dare,” she whispers, her voice rough. But it’s the tremble on the last word that causes me to push up. I’m hovering over her, our bodies no longer touching.
“Please talk to me,” I murmur, my body aching from her proximity.
Another whistle catches my attention and reminds me of where we are. As much as I want to, I can’t keep her trapped beneath me until she listens. Not in the middle of the courtyard.
I get to my feet and reach down, but Ara ignores the hand I offer, getting up by herself.
She balls her fists, and for a second, I think she’ll come at me again, but instead, she turns and hurries to a door and back inside. I follow.