Swear On My Mortal Soul

Chapter Two

Rhia

His lips tasted like pork and Rhia didn't entirely detest him for it. Although, she did hate sleeping with Lucian. The son of a blacksmith, he was covered in soot and sweat. Which, in turn, meant she was now covered in soot and sweat. Some of it her own.

Lucian had finished his job, and now lay collapsed into a pant on top of her. His breath made her stomach growl. She'd stolen away from the castle in the early dawn before breakfast.

"I told you if you were hungry, you could put your mouth—"

"Get off me," she interrupted.

Lucian did so and reached for his breeches, clearly amused. "You act so put out, and yet you always come back. Why are you in such a cheerful mood today, anyhow?" His scarce eyebrows shot up in recognition, apparently coming to his own conclusion before she had the chance to retort. "King Teyrnon is having a great feast for what-is-he-called tonight, isn't that right? You've been waiting to get your hands on him. I know how you like your royals."

He might as well have ripped off her clothes a second time. "I most certainly am not waiting to get my hands anywhere near that arrogant cripple. Have you heard that he must use a walking stick to get around on account of what happened?" She made an attempt at tucking her tunic into her skirt in some fashion appropriate, but the sudden flush of hot anger swooping over her made the task quite difficult.

"I've heard he uses a walking stick because his toes are webbed like the feet of a duck, and also that his prick..."

"In order to have the feet of a duck, he would need to have toes in the first place. I'm quite sure that two of them rotted after the incident. Do you even know what happened that day, you fool? You mean to tell me you weren't there to witness it with your own eyes?"

Lucian collapsed onto the woolen blanket beside her, clasping his hands around his knobby knees. "I've heard various rumors of that day, but I was not. That was the year my mother struck ill. But I'll assume that you were front and center to witness it all?"

"Not quite front and center," she admitted, "but I will never forget it." She had relived her personal afflictions from that day in very little detail to Lucian before, but never actually explained herself in full. Considering the circumstances, she thought it might be a good time as any. "Stay with me a while longer, and I'll tell you everything."

"The snow had not yet fallen, but the sky was thick with swollen clouds. Prince Arros of Voltemena, Prince Conan of Aberdava, and Prince Caius of Banetry had all been born within a year and a half of each other, some eleven or so years prior. And, as tradition went, all three of them were to complete their Rite of Passage on the same day.

"As you know, each young prince was hidden from the public eye until he was old enough to draw up arms. And once all three boys could bear arms, the arena was chosen in our own kingdom of Voltemena. I watched the entire Passage... or what occurred in its place.

"In order to announce who would be the first to fight, all three of the boys had to first link arms and walk to the middle of the circular showground to receive a longsword from their fathers. From here, each would blood their weapon and prepare it for battle. But before any of them had the chance to ceremoniously be granted their weapon, Prince Arros drew a small dagger from his breeches and thrusted it upon the breast of Prince Conan in cold blood. I had known Arros for many years, and yet had never known him to act so recklessly. So murderously. The act haunted me during many nights of sleep.

"Prince Caius took the longsword from his father's hands without commencement and raised it against Arros. The longsword swung quick upon Arros' left side torso, yet he had managed to block the attack with naught but his child's play, bloodied dagger. Caius couldn't be discouraged, and swung a second time right at Arros' neck. The blow put a dent right in the center of Arros' neck ring, the chunk of jewelry saving his life.