Come get me, you bastard.
He lunged forward, sloppily chopping his sword.
I spun to the left, dancing behind him. As I hopped up and down on my toes, anxiously waiting for him to try again, I kept my breathing steady and focused on everything around me. There could have been more than one attacker, and I had been caught off guard before.
My assailant noticed my distraction and used it to his advantage, as he should have. It’s a game, really. I could have had my knife in his chest before he took another breath, but where was the fun in that?
I doubled over as he kicked me in the stomach. Just as he was about to bring the hilt of his sword down on my head, I leaped to the side. I did not need that headache.
He brought his weapon back up and nicked my arm.
Damn. Broke the skin.
I charged for him, making the long blade of his sword nearly useless. Sure, he could have tried to pummel me again, but I was quick and went for the throat with my fist. As he gasped for breath, I kicked his wrist, and he dropped his sword. I swept it toward the wall with my foot and brought my knee up to his nose.
Just as I was about to connect for a second time, he called out. “Damn Ara. Are you trying to break my fucking face?”
I shoved him away as a wicked smile spread across my face. “Calm down, Huntagh. You nearly hit me with your sword’s hilt, and you don’t see me whining about it.” I sheathed my dagger and crossed the barn to reach for the salve we kept on the shelf. It was charmed to instantly close a small wound or heal a burn. Anything bigger than a scratch took a bit more medical attention. Next to it, I grabbed the gauze and wiped away the blood streaming down my arm, then cleaned the scrape and applied the salve wincing through the initial burn.
I struck a match, burning the gauze with my blood on it, and checked that I hadn’t dripped it onto the floor, as my father had always taught me. Fae blood could be powerful, he would always say, and we should never leave it behind. I turned back to face Huntagh in his ragged farm clothes, disheveled hair and musty scent of old sweat. “Wanna go again?” I smiled at the thought of a good spar and deflated only a little when I saw the annoyance on his face.
“Yeah . . . no thanks.” He reached up and scratched the back of his head. “I’ve had my ass handed to me a little too much lately.”
“Someone’s moody.”
“You could just let me win occasionally to remind me why I agree to this.”
I feigned shock, bringing my hand to my chest. “I would never insult your dignity by letting you win without a fair fight,” I teased as I walked out of the barn.
My parents tested and trained me often, but sparring with Huntagh, who worked on our land from time to time, had begun to lose its appeal when I knew I could beat him in my sleep. On my worst day. I guess it was better than nothing, though. I slid my knife back into its home as I crossed the lawn and made it to the front door. I paused and looked around one more time, just in case.
Chapter 2
Ara
“How was it?” my inquisitive mother asked as I put away the breakfast dishes in our tidy kitchen. She wanted to question me sooner but was kind enough to give me time to finish my breakfast. Her gentle hands remained folded behind her back as her deep brown eyes bored into me.
I shrugged. She hated that. I didn’t mean to anger her, but I appreciated the occasional upper hand. “Same as always. Four guards on each side of the main door. Both outside guards carried their swords on their waist and crossbows on their backs. The outside party had all four kingdoms’ guards. Twenty-seven were ours. Queen Morwena had nine guards. King Autus had only his court. One walked with a limp and another carried enough knives strapped to him you could hear them jingle when he stepped. The Elder King—”
“Use his name, Ara,” my mother interrupted.
I set the stack of bowls inside the cupboard and turned to face her, pushing my shoulders back. “King Tolero had guards present but wasn’t there.” I paused. “Strange, don’t you think?”
“Not at all. Was his son there?” She narrowed her gaze. I tried to read her expression, but she was skilled at hiding her thoughts from me. “These are important details. You must always watch and learn, Ara. Even all these years later. It’s a very valuable skill to have. You—”
“You need to focus on what shouldn’t be there and make note of things others may not,” I said in a mocking tone. “Yes, Mother, I know. But I’ve never met the prince, so I’m not sure what he looks like. I didn’t see the Eld— Uhm . . . King Tolero’s Cetani sigil on anyone the rest of the night, so no, I don’t believe he was there.”
“So, you would rather guess than give facts?”
“No. I know that’s not how we play, Mother.” I dried my hands on the embroidered towel in front of me and sat down as I traced the notch in the wooden table with my fingertips. I carved that tiny heart when I was five, right after my father gave me my first dagger. “I know for a fact I did not see the prince there, because I did not see a single face I’ve never seen before. Apart from one.”
I dangled this piece of information before her—she was far too predictable. She would forget about the prince entirely.
She smiled, patiently waiting for me to answer the question she hadn’t asked. I pursed my lips and waited for it. A small battle of wits I’d already won. “Mhmm?” she asked.
I raised an eyebrow to her.
“Spill it, Ara,” she barked.
“A human was there, Mother.”
She jolted. “You’re kidding.” She sat down at the table, quickly folded her hands and leaned forward. “Tell me everything.”
As I recalled the curious evening, she seemed just as stunned as I was last night. I had never seen a human before, but he matched the description. I explained every detail of him. “He was short, and his ears weren’t pointed like ours, but rather tiny and round. Unnatural, even.”
“Yes, for sure a human then. Did you see who he was with?”
“No. He just stood the whole time, exactly how I explained it. Should we ask Father?”
“Yes, we should. Just to make sure it’s still safe for you to attend should you be invited back. Humans are rare and typically cause more trouble than they are worth.”
I scoffed, barely holding back the eye roll. “I think we both know I’ll be invited back. Summer Solstice is just around the corner. I go every year. Though, for what reason, I’m not sure.” I tried to hide how much I loathed every minute of it.
“Ara, you can’t just sit around here with your father and me all the time. Make a friend. Find a lover. Be normal.”
“First of all, ew. Second, I’m as normal as I can be living with my parents. And I do have a friend. I’m going to train. Call me in for lunch?”
“One girl who you’ve had three conversations with isn’t exactly a friend,” she called as I walked out the door.
This was how it was with my parents. My father was militant. My mother followed his lead in all things, as did I. I could ask my observant father how many crystals hung from the chandelier in the smallest dining room in the kingdom, and he could have answered.