CHAPTER 10 #2
“Yes and no,” he said at last, shaking his head. From this distance, his steel gray eyes were more discerning than sharp. Or maybe it was a trick of the light. There was no denying they held more intensity than I could ever hope to mirror.
“He speaks,” I quipped.
He pursed his lips. “Marr Wep. Most just use Wep.”
“Thank you.”
He cocked his head, looking down at me. He was a head taller, though not quite as tall as Dane. “And how should I address you?”
I smirked. “My name will do.”
“No title?” He quirked that same eyebrow.
“None.”
He kept me pinned with his eyes, like he was trying to see through my soul. The silence returned. I detested it, but for once, I didn’t know how to break it.
“Do you have any other questions for me?” he asked.
It was my turn to look him over. I took in his muscular build again, his height, and his dark copper hair pulled tight in a knot.
He moved to hold his arms behind his back, and a twisted part of me hoped my gaze unnerved him.
He was the picture of a Rihtish warrior. He radiated severity and control.
But imposing figures had never stopped my wandering tongue before. “If I’m to be stuck with you, there will be plenty of time for questions.” I knew very well it was not me who was stuck with him. “Where do we begin?”
WE BEGAN, it turned out, with a review of my dowsae.
Rather than lead, Wep planted his feet beside me, as Gerta would have, and followed my every move.
When I faltered to fix my stupid glasses, he slowed his pace until I caught up, and our movements synchronized again.
He made no corrections and gave no comments.
I gritted my teeth. I didn’t enjoy being patronized or tested, or whatever the fuck this was.
When I completed almost all that I had learned from Kahvrah, he fell into stance opposite me.
The sun dowsa.
“Breathe,” a voice commanded in my head. I froze, my heart slamming in my chest.
Silence.
I refocused on my breath, then I began. My muscles were already limber from the warmup dowsae, so I ducked and dodged with ease.
Wep matched me step for step. The energy between us built, and my confidence grew.
This was what should have happened in the arena.
I had no fear of striking him—he was exactly where he should be.
More importantly, he was where I needed him to be.
My pace, I knew, wasn’t perfect. I had a habit of rushing through the middle, but he kept up.
He did not huff or stop me and make me start again, as Kahvrah would have.
I jabbed in a controlled flurry, then it was time for the finale.
I jumped, ducked, swept a low kick, spun to the side, dodged, turned back, and halted—hands raised in prayer.
No blows came. I bowed. Across from me, Wep bowed low, and when he rose, his brow was furrowed.
“Why didn’t you do this at your trial?” His voice was harsh.
“Maybe I was a little caught off guard by the stadium of people jeering at me,” I snapped. This was what he had to say?
“No, you weren’t.”
“Oh? So, you know better than me how I felt?”
Wep paused. He frowned, eyes narrowed. “When you fell into stance, yes, there were nerves. Once you started, no.”
I’d run over the trial in my head dozens of times. Had I misstepped? Botched my alignment? Missed a section altogether? The truth was, I had felt confident—until the end. “I don’t know what happened.”
“I didn’t take you for a liar.”
“Fine.” I snapped. “The challenger wasn’t where she should’ve been, not that you or anyone else would believe me. Happy?” My breath came out in huffs. Why was I so rattled?
He nodded. After a moment, he opened his mouth to speak.
“Listen”—I cut him off—“I don’t need a lecture. I get it. I have way less experience, so I’m probably the one who was out of place.” I took a moment to wipe my glasses on the soft front of my overdress. “Either way, I’ve already been judged and heard plenty of opinions about me already.”
Wep strode forward, stopping right before me. “The only judgment you have to worry about is Dane’s, the Great Dragon’s”—his voice was low and hard—“and maybe mine.” He smirked.
It was the closest to a smile I’d seen on his face, and Martyrs, did it suit him. Still, I scoffed at the sentiment.
“What of these glasses? They disrupt your pace. Can you not do without them?”
“Sure, if you’d like me to be in a constant state of befuddlement, no problem.”
“It was just a question.”
“It was unsolicited advice.”
“Perhaps you need the advice of your betters.”
I straightened my glasses. “Do point me to one when you find them.” His eyebrow jumped. “What’s next?”
“Next, we—”
The door burst open, and a young girl rushed in. She had twin braids swinging over her shoulders and wide eyes locked on me.
“Dane calls on you,” the girl shouted.
Wep nodded and moved to follow. “Wait here,” he commanded, voice sharp. No wonder I mistook him for a general to start.
“No!” the girl squeaked. “He calls her.” She pointed at me.
I stiffened. “Me?” I choked out.
The girl nodded then ran out, the door slamming shut behind her.
I looked to Wep, but his face was a mask. He crossed the room and opened the door, waiting. Except my stupid, stubborn feet refused to move.
“Come,” he snapped, gesturing through the door.
“Obviously,” I spat.
One eyebrow raised dramatically. I couldn’t decide if I liked his glare or his taunting brow the least. I looked away and stormed from the room, but Wep trailed me, staying a few stairs behind me.
“I know the way,” I hissed over my shoulder, my temper rising to cover my embarrassment.
He didn’t answer, and he didn’t change his pace. His presumption grated on me. Dane had called for me—not him. What gave him the right to follow?
Though the castle was full of twists and turns, we arrived before Dane too quickly.
I was still panting—from the sprint to the Receiving Hall and the dowsae before it.
The moment I walked through the doorway, Dane’s regular guard duo flanked me and escorted me directly in front of the imposing man, made even more daunting atop his dais.
“Daughter,” Dane greeted. His beard was unbound, adding to his wild appearance.
I put my hand to my heart and bowed my head like he’d taught me.
As I did so, I snuck a glance to the side and found Gerta seated next to Bracht on one of the many benches.
My adrenaline spiked, blood pounding in my ears.
Kahvrah sat on Gerta’s other side. She clenched her fists around her long braid.
“What letters have you had from your Inraen family?”
My throat clenched, and I felt the blood drain from my face. “None,” I sputtered.
Dane narrowed his eyes.
“Just one from my father, not long after I first arrived. I’ve had none since.” The letters I’d sent to Merria so far had been unanswered.
“Hmm,” Dane muttered, stroking his beard.
“Dane, if I may—” Wep stepped forward, but Dane shushed him. He waved a hand, and Wep moved out of my line of sight. I bit my lip, stifling my snicker. Served him right, imposing himself like that. I kept my eyes on Dane, waiting.
He had closed his eyes and hung his head. He might have been asleep, except for the furrow in his brow.
I pressed my lips tighter together and held my breath. Now was not a time to interfere. Control your tongue—Mother’s favorite words for me. I could have sworn I heard laughter echo through my head in response.
After several moments, Dane raised his head, looking directly at me.
“Your maid has made a plea to stay in our lands and become one of the Riht.” He kindly ignored the gasp that burst out of me.
“She would like to put herself forth for her own trial. Kahvrah has come forward as her attestant. But she is not free. She is bound to the Cavendaffe lord, and he has written requesting her return. Unlike you, she has no promise of release from their servitude.”
I cringed at the wrongness of those words, at the wrongness of Gerta’s predicament. No woman in Inra was free. I knew this was the way of things. Even the queen was beholden to the king.
Dane turned to Gerta. Perhaps it was my imagination, but I saw in his eyes the same sorrow I felt in my bones.
I nodded, already knowing what was needed of me. “I will write to him. I’ll ask him to permanently release Gerta to me, to stay with me as my personal servant here in Drakh. If he agrees, then I can dissolve the servitude myself.”
“So be it.” Dane nodded his dismissal.
I retreated from the hall—one foot out the door when Wep asked, “You would trust her already?”
My temper flared, and I rounded on him, not caring about the spectacle I’d make.
“Excuse me? Since my arrival in Drakh, I have been nothing but compliant. I do whatever’s asked of me.
I’ve completed trials, given up my home, my life, everything—all to become part of the Riht.
Gerta is my closest companion, and I would do anything for her happiness.
You’ve known me for—what—an hour? Who are you to question me?
” I crossed my arms and held his gaze. With no small measure of pride, I did not flinch.
I may be a traitor to these people, but in that moment, I made my decision.
Gerta’s life in Cavendaffe would be one of servitude, but her life in the Riht, regardless of how long I remained here, would be one of her choosing. My father and his journal be damned.
“Write the letter. Go.” Dane interrupted, waving his hand in dismissal. “Our rider leaves before last light.”
I nodded. At home, a speech like that would’ve earned me a slap—or worse. I quickly bowed and spun on my heels, fleeing the hall before Dane could change his mind. I kept moving, tamping down the jitters that threatened to buckle my knees.
Thankfully, Wep didn’t follow me out.