The Dragon Prince's Consort

Fourteen

Show-off, Valen snarled to himself. Yet he would readily admit Tias was an excellent duelist, his defensive stances impassable and his strikes as huge and crushing as he was. He took to heavy weapons like a manyu to the hunt; despite a generations-long peace the Empire still trained its forces as though war was imminent and unavoidable, keeping it and the Drassians from getting soft. It was a matter of pride as well as discipline.

Freya gave a shriek – the Warden's Cry, a hearts-stopping scream that could rupture eardrums and cause temporary or permanent hearing loss depending on range – and leaped forward, her scarlet mantle flowing behind her like blood as she charged Valen's fortress. With hardly a breath, Valen slipped to the side and ducked under her arm, bringing his pole up and over in an attempt to slap her weapon down again. Freya twisted her arm, sliding the pole out and back and catching Valen in the side. "Oof!" Air blasted from his lungs and Valen faltered. He went down on one knee and brought his stick up, shielding the back of his neck just as Freya's backhand swipe glanced off of it. "Point!"

"I'll give you that one," Valen puffed, his ribs stinging. That will bruise tomorrow.

"You give me nothing," Freya pulled him up. "You leave yourself too open from above, someday someone's going to bash your skull in."

"That's what horns are for." Valen watched his brother toy with his weapon, his long queue pinned up to the back of his head. Wish someone would bash his skull in. The mental image made him feel better, and Valen kicked his staff up into the air and caught it.

Freya elbowed him. "Your horns won't save you from a real glaive, you know."

"And when am I going to need protection from a real glaive? The Empire hasn't gone to war in centuries, and even then the Imperial Family hasn't fought in almost - OW!" Valen rubbed the spot directly on the top of his head where Freya smacked him smartly between the horns with the butt of her staff. "All right! Firemother's ashes, I get it."

Freya chuckled, then a clash from across the pitch drew their attention and a roar from Tias caused Valen to grip his stick tighter. Both Freya and Valen watched as Tias whipped a slashing blow against the swordmaster's padded chest guard, the "blade" making a rough brrrp! as the padding split. Then Tias flipped the practice weapon and delivered a smashing backhand to the swordmaster's shoulder, driving the old Drass to the ground. Rather than deliver what would be a fatal blow with real weapons, Tias stepped on the old fellow's chest and held him down with his hulking weight. "Yield!" Tias commanded, and the swordmaster slapped his open hand on the mat. Stepping off, Tias ignored the swordmaster and turned to Valen and Freya. He stared down his younger brother and Valen glared back, claws itching to gouge the First Prince's eyes out.

Tias bounced the butt of his weapon off the mat, catching it as the springy material flung the mockup blade into the air. "Warden, why do you bother training that runt? Don't you get bored play-fighting with a child?"

"How about you practice instead of running your mouth?" Valen shot back, surprising himself. "Now that you won't be running the Federation negotiations, you've got more than enough free time."

Tias laughed, an ugly grating sound. "I know exactly how you've been preparing for your 'negotiations' – spending the Empire's kai on your little whore."

Valen grinned even as he felt fiery anger building in his chest. No, not yet. Let him think it for now, until he sees. But there was an opportunity for a dig of his own. "Well someone had to replace the rags she was wearing – you didn't even bother to have her dressed properly when you bought her, how irresponsible of you." Tias's nostrils flared, the only indication that he was affected by Valen's jab. By now the swordmaster had gotten to his feet, and Tias tossed his weapon at the old Drass martial expert who, despite being on his back a moment before, caught it expertly. "Do yourself a favor, Little Brother," the First Prince said with a sneer, "don't kill this one, all right? As much as I don't care what happens to her, it'd be a waste of all that money you spent on whatever tacky trash you bought for her yesterday."

A thousand insults came to mind, each punctuated with a vicious stab or slash of his staff. Valen imagined how it would feel to smash Tias in the face with the butt of his stick, bursting Tias's red lips like overripe fruits. As he took a breath to steady himself Valen settled for the mental vision of blood and shards of broken teeth running down Tias's chin and the glory of finally shutting up his older brother. Not now, though. Just thinking about last night, Fang's gentle words and soft touches and cries of pleasure, helped cool his angry Flame. His breath came out in a growl, but he said nothing.

Tias chortled, pleased. "That's what I thought. Anyway, Father told me at breakfast he wants to see you and the whore in his office for lunch. I think he wants to see how you're getting on with your assignment. Not that he expects much, I'm sure. You do tend to be a disappointment in these things – I'm sure your human wench will attest to that soon if she hasn't already." Tias grinned smugly before turning and loping off, stretching and flexing his huge arms and cracking his knuckles. Valen watched him go, holding back the burning wish to launch the training pole into the back of his brother's head.

Freya poked him in the back with her stick. "Shouldn't you be getting ready then?"

"Hngh, probably." He needed a shower, and Fang might want some time to get ready herself. Across the pitch Tias used the blunt end of a replica glaive to knock the feet from under the swordmaster, standing in for the polearm instructor who sat nearby with a cast on her foot. The instructor called out moves and points, critiquing Tias's form and applauding her substitute's speed. "I ought to finish-"

"No, you go," Freya gave him a push. "This is important." She wasn't wrong. But as Valen went to the bench to retrieve his outer robe and boots, Tias called across the pitch "Have you told the ugly bitch anything yet? Or are you going to let her find out for herself what happens to the women who get too attached to you?"

Valen bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood.

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I do not own the image above - if it belongs to you and you want it removed, contact me and I will take it down.

I would give my left arm and right leg for Rhea Ripley to play Freya in the live-action version of this. Also, Gwendoline Christie can be Benna.