Estelle rolled beneath Mikael's attack and sprang up behind him, reversing Znaniya in her grasp. She lunged, but Mikael thrust his sword behind himself, parrying her blow with Aesira.
"Good catch, Feathers," Estelle chuckled. She drew her arm back, circling him. "How did you know that blow was coming?"
"It's a move I would've made," he replied with a shrug. Estelle gave him a prompting look. "All right. I knew you'd have momentum when you came out of that roll, so I was listening for your blade." He sheathed his sword and beckoned her closer.
Estelle sheathed Znaniya against her thigh and held out Aesira. Mikael took the blade, running his fingers over the flat edge of it. "When you swing your blade, it has a small whistle." Mikael demonstrated. Estelle strained her ears, listening. She thought she could hear the whistle he was talking about. "When you lunge..." he thrust the sword forward, "it makes that quick huffing sound, like someone exhaling through their mouth."
"I see." Estelle reclaimed her blade and ran through the movements, listening. "I've never really noticed that before."
"Well, you've probably never had to watch your back like our Bastard Lordling has," Ronan sneered from beyond the ring. Mikael stiffened, the smile leaving his lips.
Estelle stepped in between the two of them, shadows coiling atop her shoulders, ready to strike. "Have you forgotten the warning I gave you, Ronan?" She spat.
"Have you forgotten how I drove daggers through your wings?"
Mikael snarled and started forward. Estelle stuck her arm out, barring him. He stopped, but anger radiated from him. "I could have killed you that night," Mikael growled. "Don't make me regret sparing you even more."
"I'm not worried about you, Halfbreed. You need an Illyrian bitch to protect you."
Him. Him. Him, the shadows hissed. He is one who put that hurt in the Angel's eyes.
"You hide in your father's shadow, using his authority to protect yourself. You're pathetic. Worthless. You'll never amount to anything."
It was him. It was him. It was him.
Ronan flashed them a cocky smirk. "You're a bastard. A rutting little bastard, who should have died with his mother."
Mikael flared his wings out, magic sparking around his fingertips. Thinking quickly, Estelle grabbed him by the arm and let the shadows surround them. When they faded, they were standing in the warded clearing.
"Why did you do that?" Mikael seethed.
"Because you were going to attack him. That's what he wanted."
"You heard what he said! I can't let him get away with that!"
"You're right. You can't, but you can't get yourself into trouble by possibly killing him." Estelle rolled her head, cracking her neck. "I thought you said you didn't have anger issues, Feathers."
"I do when my family is involved."
"You told me I need to push through my anger. Use it as fuel, not let it overwhelm me. You should take your own advice."
"Easier said than done." Mikael's eyes flashed with fury.
"Attack me."
"Why?"
"Let's get your temper under control. If you go back to the training grounds in this state, you'll kill him. What will your fathers do then?"
"You can't shield yourself."
"That doesn't matter. Do it."
"I'll hurt you."
"Do it, you bastard!" Estelle taunted. "Or are you a coward as well?" Mikael narrowed his eyes. "Come on, Feathers. Don't prove Ronan right. I was just beginning to have some respect for you!"
Mikael glared at her, his magic burning brighter. Estelle balanced lightly on her toes, wings and shadows at the ready. Mikael hurled a ball of golden light at her. Estelle dodged. His volley increased.
She threw walls of shadows around herself. She stepped through them, appearing in different corners of the clearing. Estelle threw out taunts at every turn. Her Uncle Cassian had taught her well.
Mikael's fury only seemed to grow. Trees collapsed into ashes. Magic speared through the ground, leaving scorched dirt behind. Estelle narrowly avoided one blast. She rolled beneath another and let the shadows protect her from a third.
Time to start calming him down, she thought, tucking her wings tight against her back to avoid having them singed off. Estelle inched towards him cautiously. Mikael had his eyes closed and his glowing fists were clenched. His chest heaved with uneven breaths.
"I'm sorry, Mikael," she murmured. "I didn't mean it. I just needed you riled up so you would release your anger."
"I know," he replied through gritted teeth.
"Ronan is wrong, you know. How you came to be...that holds no reflection on who you are. You are not pathetic. You are not worthless. You are not a coward."
Mikael didn't reply. Estelle reached him. He kept his eyes closed and head lowered. She lifted his hands, ignoring the painful heat that clung to them. The shadows drifted towards him, winding around his arms and up the sides of his face.
"Are you all right?" He asked. "Did I hurt you?"
"I'm fine. Are you?"
"I spend every day trying to prove myself to them. To him. And it never changes how they see me. They don't look at me and see Mikael, Heir to the Dawn Court. They look at me and see Mikael, the Bastard. I constantly have to fight to hold the respect I've earned and it feels like that isn't even worth fighting for."
"It is," Estelle protested. "Every ounce of respect you gain now will serve well someday in the future. Your people will learn to see you, Mikael. You just have to keep showing them who you are. Show them the curious scholar that you are. Show them the warrior you're becoming. Show them the powerful High Lord you will one day be."
"It won't matter. Sienna, Calden, and Celeste...they're the only ones who truly see me."
"That's not true." Estelle lifted her hands to his face, forcing him to meet her gaze. Mikael opened his eyes at last. "I see you. Angel of Dawn. Prince of Sunrises." She tried to hide the envious twinge she felt, hearing Celeste's name.
Mikael brushed his thumb across her cheek, studying her gaze intently. "What is it?"
"What do you mean?"
"Something is bothering you."
"It's nothing." Estelle pulled her hands away and increased the distance between them. "Nothing important."
Mikael managed a small, wry laugh. "I just emptied my heart to you, Batsy. You can do the same." Estelle sighed. "It's only fair."
She turned away before answering. "Celeste told Sienna and I about the first time she slept with a male." Estelle hesitated, her ears warming with shame and embarrassment. She had no reason to feel this way, so why did she? "She said it was you. And that it lasted for several months."
"Oh." Grass rustled as Mikael stepped closer to her. "It's true. I was her first time, and she was mine. We'd flirted with each other for several months and after a Winter Solstice party, we just decided to do it. It went on for several months, but our feelings never deepened or changed, so we ended it. We decided just to stay friends. I never even told Calden about it."
"I see." Estelle licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry.
"It was over one hundred years ago, Batsy," Mikael said.
"But you've had lovers since."
"Well, yes...but I'm sure you have too."
Estelle gave a short nod. "Yes." She rubbed her forehead briefly. "I'm sorry. It was just surprising to me. That's all. We should go. I need to draft up a list for the next exchange and send it to Devlon and Jorah." She turned and brushed past him, preparing to take off.
"There's no one right now," Mikael called. "And there's nothing between Celeste and I anymore. We're just friends."
Estelle hesitated. "It's none of my concern."
"But you are." She looked over her shoulder. "Concerned," Mikael clarified. "You are concerned. And I don't mind." He smiled, slipping his finger beneath her chin and tilting her head up. "I'm jealous of whomever has had you in the past too, and grateful that they chose to let you go."
Estelle's heart raced uncontrollably as she held Mikael's gaze. His eyes fell to her lips as he ran his thumb across them. Estelle swallowed hard, then blinked and pulled away from him.
"The list," she rasped, her mouth still dry. "I'll see you later." She leaped into the air without another word, her lips still tingling from his touch.
◦═══✦═══◦
Mikael walked down the hallway with his fathers, his thoughts spinning. Estelle hadn't spoken to him since their conversation in the clearing the day before. He didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. Perhaps he'd been too abrupt? Too forward? Maybe he'd misread her emotions and mistaken his own?
"In here," Thesan said, opening a door.
Mikael entered the studio behind Ameer. Two easels were set up, the canvases covered by cloth. More paintings lined the walls and unfinished ones rested in corners. This was where they had their artists work when portraits were being done. Mikael knew at once what he'd been brought there to see.
Thesan pulled the cover off one of the canvases. The painting wasn't completed. Only her head and the arches of her wings were done. It would be some time before the entire thing was finished. Mikael stared at it, lifting his fingers to his mother's face, with features so like his own.
"What do you think?" Thesan asked. "It won't be finished for at least another month, possibly longer, but I thought you might want to see the progress done so far. Eleazar has worked on it almost nonstop since we commissioned him."
"It..." Mikael's voice was foreign to his own ears. It was small and uncertain. Seeing his mother's face at this scale... It was surreal. He was seeing more similarities between them than he had before. "It looks... It's wonderful, Father."
Ameer rested a hand on his shoulder. "Are you all right?"
Mikael nodded. "I just wish I could remember her. It feels wrong that I don't."
"I wish you could have known her too," Thesan said. "She would love watching you and Estelle try to outwit each other."
"Do you think she would have liked Estelle?"
Ameer and Thesan exchanged knowing glances. "I do," Thesan replied. "Samanya would like how stubborn and skilled Estelle is." He crossed his arms. "I like that she's open minded and willing to learn."
Ameer nodded. "I like that she's challenging you."
Umbra squeezed Mikael's arm and he smiled. He wasn't sure why his fathers had felt the need to include their thoughts, but he didn't mind. "I like that too."