Leif paces around the trunk of the massive oak tree resting on the sideline of the sparring ring, his heavy steps wearing a circle in the grass. He tugs on his sandy hair and exhales with such force I swear the earth rumbles beneath me. "This ingenious plan of yours has a high probability of backfiring. One side will feel like they are fighting for the stronger ruler and the other will question their loyalty to the weaker."
I remove my jacket, hand it to Wel, and roll up the sleeves of my tunic. "Kyron will figure out how to deal with his loss and regain the respect of his warriors."
Ulric snickers, and Leif rolls his eyes, saying, "Are you sure you can beat him? Not that long ago you stood in this same position, and he walked away with the win."
Gone is Leif's charming dimples or the playful spark always glinting in his eyes. My best friend is worried. It's not my safety he frets about, but my ability to pull this off and the pushback I will receive if I lose. He has spent months fearing I was battling a crumbling state of mind, and the idea that I will have to fight to redeem myself as a worthy leader doesn't sit well with him. He fears the stress following the sparring match will be more than I can handle.
"I was simply full of ambition back then. Now, I'm a trained killer." I bump into Leif with my hip. "Stop worrying, you're going to wrinkle your handsome face."
He runs his palm over his forehead, smoothing his skin.
"If anyone can kick Kyron's ass, it's Elle. Tell me you don't want to see her wipe the smug look off his face, Captain Stone," Greer says, her face alight with the possibility of seeing the man who was once her best friend at my mercy.
Leif's lips quirk up, and his hazel gaze meets mine. "I know she can, and it would give me satisfaction to see him squirming. But I don't trust the asshole."
"Elle, are you ready to start?" Terro calls from the center of the ring.
I give Leif two solid claps on the shoulder, and Ulric hands me a wooden sword fashioned like the one I carry from my father.
"I'm confident you know what to do, nanny goat."
"Kick his ass," I say, shoving my real sword and scabbard against his chest.
"That would be it," he says, with a bright smile shining through his red beard.
I cross the field, pretending I don't notice the troves of onlookers. They hold coins above their heads, summoning those who are collecting the bets. Lucent and Stigian alike banter back and forth, laughing at the ridiculous claims of the other side. If my plan goes awry, I can rest assured the spirit of gambling has brought the conflicting sides together.
Kyron and I stand on either side of Terro. The prince lowers his chin and gives me a crooked smile. I respond by squaring my shoulders and holding his gaze. He won't charm or intimidate me. I've prepared for this moment.
"You know the rules," Terro says, holding open the burlap sack of red dust for us to dip our sparring swords in.
"That there are no rules?" I say, coating the blade and taking a step back.
Terro's eyes grow big, and he shakes his head. "There is a rule. The first one to strike a vital organ wins."
Kyron and I nod, and Terro walks off the field.
"Are you sure your guard is all right with you doing this?" Kyron asks.
I turn and scan the sidelines where Leif, Greer, and the others stand. Zek stands front and center with his arms crossed over his broad chest and his blue eyes trying to burn a hole through the Stigian prince. I can't help but wonder if I complicated matters with my carelessness last night, or if he is just watching out for me.
"If he's not, he's about to get a lesson in how well I can defend myself against you."
Kyron cocks a brow and lifts his sword in front of him. "I'm positive you thought you could beat me before, and I believe I won that match."
"Why does everyone feel compelled to remind me of that? Trust me, you won't win this one."
I copy his stance and flecks of crimson catch the wind and spiral around us. The dust complements his all-black attire and ebony hair fluttering in the breeze. If we weren't about to partake in a mock battle to the death, I might find the scene lovely.
Every slight movement Kyron makes is a testament to his command and strength, and I was captivated by them from the beginning. I wanted to wield that kind of power, to be a leader who others respected. I spent months training and honing my abilities to make me more like him, to make me capable of taking him down. I never doubted we would one day stand face to face with weapons in hand, ready to plunge our blades into each other's heart...in our own heart.
My gaze sweeps over the outer edges of the sparring ring. One might look upon the bodies wearing black leather, metal, and armor and struggle to find the difference. But each man and woman here recognizes the traits setting them apart—the dark eyes filled with power lust and an army who values Khiros and Cyffred alike. The fear of the other side's normal creates a chasm which feels too wide to bridge with trust.
It is my duty to show all present that our differences have no place here. We are one people sharing one land in jeopardy. I must take the first step over the abyss dug by decades of mistrust and single-handedly build an overpass which will allow everyone here to meet in the middle. But to do that I have to let go of the resentment I hold toward Kyron.
Today, I will leave months of anger and hurt on this sparring field and offer the Stigian prince my unbridled trust. In turn, I hope my people and his do the same.
"Are you ready?" Kyron asks.
"Yes."
I spring forward and jab, aiming for his heart.
Kyron blocks my advance and chuckles. "I see you no longer wait for an invitation."
"I learned that lesson the hard way. Thank you very much."
Our wooden swords clap together, joining the cheers of our people. I shove on my hilt and push away from him. Holding his gaze, I take slow, steady steps and circle around him. He remains in place and turns with me, the tip of his sword pointing in my direction.
We are two well-trained predators ready to maul the other at the first opportunity. I'm thankful Kyron isn't yielding to me. I shed my fair share of blood and sweat training to defeat him. This is my chance to prove to myself that every scrape and burning muscle was worth it. If I can take down the Stigian prince, no opponent will be undefeatable.
"Are you sure you wouldn't rather dance, princess?" He tosses his weapon in the air, sending it flipping before he catches it.
"Does the uncertainty of what I'll do next make you nervous, or have you become comfortable with your plush new life and fear your skills are lacking?"
Kyron licks his lips and tucks them between his teeth to hide his smile. With long strides, he moves toward me. "You have a sassy mouth, and I can't wait to claim my reward."
My gaze darts to Greer, and I reach toward her. With a curl of my fingers, streams of water manifest from her fingertips and rush toward me. I kick back my arm and throw the water at Kyron, drenching him. "It looked like you needed a cold bath."
He laughs, wiping the water from his face. "You've learned to summon other's gifts without them doing it first."
"Among other things."
He stalks toward me and unfurls his fingers. A ball of fire forms in his palm and he zeros in on me. His lips turn up and exhilaration flashes in his eyes. I pose a real challenge to his extraordinary gifts, and he appears thrilled to put me to the test.
"Don't hold back," I say, lifting my sword and bracing for what's to come.
He hurls the flame. It speeds through the air like a shooting star trailing through the sky. With little effort, I catch the ball and crush it in my fist.
"It's time to quit fucking around and fight me," I say.
The outer edges of the ring fall silent, and the buzz of power intensifies. Rumbling earth, sizzling electricity, frigid ice, shadows, fire, water, plants—every element comes alive for the Eporri and waits for my direction. I will need them all if I'm to work out my frustration for the man across from me and win this fight.
Kyron's shadows whirl around him and he disappears into smoke. I spin and send out the luring power which resides inside me, searching for a particular sensation. As if I'm dipping my finger in one wine flute after another, I test each of the gifts humming around the ring, looking for the warmth I associate with only one. The Eporri connects to the power I'm looking for. I duck and sweep out my leg, hitting something hard and unseen.
I spin around as the shadows waver, giving me a peek of the prince lying on his back in the dirt. I grab the power of a Terra in the crowd and will it to shake the ground beneath Kyron. He grasps for purchase, but he can't get his legs to steady and falls to his ass. Rolling forward, he grips my ankle and tugs. I land on my back and all the air leaves my lungs. With wide eyes, I watch as he scrambles to his feet and points his weapon at me. I work through the burn in my chest and skitter back. He swings down, and I catch his blade with mine as I pull his fire from him and toss it at his feet.
The prince dances back, giving me enough room to jump up. With a fresh breath of air in my lungs, I press forward. We duel at a steady pace of swings, jabs, and blocks. There is no sign of either of us slowing down, both wanting to take this victory.
Kyron rolls a flame in his free hand and chucks it at my feet, trying to trip me up. But I'm ready for his attempt. I blast him with a flash of light and bring an Electro's gift to me. I deliver quick jolts of electricity to him, giving him a good zap which sends him back a few paces.
"Fuck!" he growls, swinging harder, faster.
Kyron's skill with a sword is excellent, and I struggle to keep up. Each of his advances is quick, giving me little time to retaliate. My arms burn from block I make. My footing isn't as practiced as his, and I stumble several times as our weapons meet with a jarring thud. It is almost too much to keep up with until he thrusts his blade, nearly missing my chest.
It's time to best him the only way I can.
I whip my arm over my head and a gust of wind rips the sword from Kyron's hand. It lands across the ring, leaving him unarmed. His entire hand lights up, burning red and orange. He flicks his wrists, and the fire blazes toward me. Yanking on an Aquatera's power, I counter him with a rush of water. He pushes harder, the cords in his neck strain and sweat beads at his brow.
I smile while controlling a flash of blinding light and freesing the ground beneath his feet. Kyron slips on the ice, and his raging inferno turns into sad puffs of smoke which falter before they reach me. His arms fling back to break his fall, but I already have him. The branches of the oak tree on the border of the field stretch and bend, wrapping around his arms. Kyron is held like a shirt set to dry in the sun.
I call his shadows, and like a beloved pet, they swirl around me as I approach him.
"You failed to disclose how comfortable you've become with the Eporri," he says, staring down at me.
"You failed to ask, prince. And I enjoy the element of surprise."
"How many can you control at once?"
"All of them. I feel your admiration," I say, using his gift as a Cognus to read his emotions.
He shakes his head and the smile on his lips testifies to the pleasure he finds in this moment. "Claim your victory, princess."
I motion for the tree to lower him, with his feet dangling right above the ground and his arms out to his sides. With two strides, I close the distance between us and press the tip of my sword to the base of his throat. He doesn't fight or struggle to move away, instead he surrenders to me.
I lower my voice, wanting my words to stay between us. "I'm offering you my complete trust, Kyron LeFur. Leave me out of your future plans, betray my people, or fuck with my emotions, and I will slice you throat to dick."
"I'll never do that to you again."
"I hope you don't."
"May the Statera hear my vow and forever bind me to it. From now until my dying day, I dedicate my body, mind, and heart to you. Do with me as you please, Raelle Mansi."
My heart thunders in my chest, and my breath hitches. "Kyron, don't say that. Don't make a promise like that to me and ask the Statera to bind it. You can't rule Stigian and serve me at the same time."
He lowers his head. "But I will, because I bow to no one but you."
I can't deny the resolve in his tone; he will put me above his kingdom. Stigian could be on fire, and he would let it burn to the ground if I asked him to. He will follow me into war, defy his mother, and renounce his crown all for me. Kyron is placing his life in my hands at the risk of his own. This is what he wants, so how can I deny him?
I lift to the tips of my toes and press my lips to his cheek. "So let it be until your dying breath, my parah."
"So be it."
Holding his gaze, I drag the blade of my sword over his heart. I don't look at the trail of red dusting his body; I can't stand the thought of administering a deathblow to him, even if it is fake. Swallowing down the emotion building up inside me, I turn away.
The astonished crowd parts for me, many of them bowing their heads in reverence, others with their mouths gaping. I focus straight ahead, not caring what any of them think. The purpose of this match will take hold, or it won't, but the words spoken on the field will last forever.
I flick my wrist over my shoulder, and the tree releases Kyron.