Daughter of Nox

Chapter Twenty-Nine

"I–I can't." Freya's words came out stuttered, her voice weak and small. "I can't fight him."

Refsing gave Freya a stiff nod. "Shall I consider this your intent to forfeit?"

"Absolutely not," a high girlish voice said from behind Freya. "My dear cousin has far too much at stake to ever dream of forfeiting."

Freya spun to find her cousin, Hela, standing at the edge of the sparring site, a haughty look drawn across her sun-browned face.

"Imagine your father's disappointment if he discovered his Ascending had been stricken from Academy's roles after refusing to fight." Hela smiled, the expression reminding Freya of a snake readying to strike. "Do you think he'd take the news well, realizing his legacy had evaporated," she raised a hand and snapped her fingers, "just like that?"

A dense, churning hatred seethed up from inside Freya at Hela's words. She felt heat rush into her cheeks.

"Shouldn't you be off taking care of your boyfriend?" Freya spat back. "Last I heard, someone had beat him senseless."

Hela let out a bright, bubbling laugh that smacked of indifference. "I'd be less concerned about Pavo, and more concerned about myself if I was you. Considering how gutless you were fighting old Dun in my father's ship, I doubt you've got what it takes to survive a fight with one of these."

"Being willing to torture an Esque doesn't make you brave, Hela," Freya said. "It only makes you a psychopath."

"Spoken like someone without the backbone to be cruel when cruelty is called for." She tipped her chin at the Esque. "And you will need cruelty against that one, Cousin." She gave a mock shiver. "I've seen what those things can do to a person once they're cut loose." She grimaced. "Very bloody, very messy."

The heat in Freya's cheeks bled away like warmth sucked into a vacuum, but she fought to keep her expression steady. Hela might get under her skin, but she wouldn't give her cousin the satisfaction of knowing it.

"At least I made it to the second round," Freya said. "Seeing as you're standing here flapping your jaws, I'm guessing that someone already gave you the kind of beating I gave Pavo."

"Perhaps." Hela said, her tone careless as she shrugged. "Or perhaps I forfeited my first match before it even started because I'd rather not fight a programmed killing machine." Hela showed Freya another of her snake-bite smiles. "Not that it matters for me. Father says strikes or merits are more for the common Founders rather than Emissaries." Hela tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Though, Cousin, I suppose another strike would still very much matter for you."

Hela's words hit her like a fist to the chest. "You threw your match like a slagging coward," Freya said, almost shouting. "You–"

Refsing's voice cut over Freya. "That is more than enough, Novices!"

Freya turned to find the corporal standing in the same spot as before, her eyes shadowed by the dip in her brow.

"As you were there when I warned Novice Traytra about taunting, Novice Airm, I will not repeat myself again," she said. "The same goes for those who've come to observe the match." She looked past Freya to Hela. "Is that clear?"

"Of course, Corporal. I apologize for my behavior," Hela said a cloyingly sweet voice. "Only that my cousin and I have a bit of an ongoing rivalry that sometimes spills into the realm of conduct unbecoming a Founder." Hela sounded girlish, almost bashful as she said it. "Rest assured that I shall not transgress against your command again."

Refsing dipped her head in a nod. "Thank you, Novice Averni." The corporal's eyes flicked toward Freya. "And you, Novice Airm?"

Freya felt like screaming at the top of her lungs, running toward her cousin, and beating her into bloody unconsciousness. Instead she said, "Yeah, I get it."