Love, Blood & Fury

by Melissa J Kincaid

  Eyes lifting, lips curling – Devina plucked a blood red strawberry, lifting it to her lips in a very unsubtle display of flirtation as she flicked her tongue across the tip of the fruit and said, “Well, if you are not going to get on with it tonight, allow me a chance to roll in the silk sheets with the handsome King first.”

  Arii felt her gaze slide to Devina, and bile rose in her throat as she was met with a sultry gaze.

  “Why not, if he is fated to die soon anyway?” cooed Devina, turning to begin a beeline to the King.

  Arii felt strange heat begin to rise in her cheeks and an odd feeling bubbled within her.

  What on earth was that?

  What did she care what Lorch did behind closed bedroom doors? She swallowed the feeling back and locked it away within a vault of steel.

  Ignoring Devina’s words, Arii continued to survey the room of radiating bodies, the air thick with heat, sweat, body odour and laced with lust.

  She could feel the untamed Fae in her rise and whimper.

  Gods it had been so long…

  Her attention snapped to an angry female voice across the room.

  Sybell Kruel was sitting on her seat up on the dais a few feet away, glaring at a young maid who was dipping her head in submission.

  “I asked for sweet cakes and cream, not wine!” the golden-haired Princess bellowed.

  Holding a silver tray topped with glass goblets, the maid looked a lot like Tikkani, thin, brown haired and sporting the pointed ears of an elf. Arii was not sure what brought on the rise of anger, perhaps the fact the girl was elven and reminded her of her fellow recruit, or the unfamiliar feeling warring within her after Devina’s detour, but she felt her hand begin to rise, waving subtly in the Princess’ direction.

  Her hand twitched, and the goblets of wine were suddenly spilling over Sybell’s glorious cream ball gown with just a small flick of magic. The Princess’ sound of outrage was audible, and some patrons of the party stopped to stare.

  The young maid looked mortified.

  Arii felt satisfaction sizzle in her veins.

  “My Lady… I… I…” the girl spluttered as the Princess’ ire was turned directly on her, eyes like daggers as the girl quaked in her shadow.

  Lorch was by the maid’s side in an instant, and Arii blinked in surprise. The King took the maid by the arm and made her rise.

  “Please, take a break, young lady,” he said, and the girl was swift to flee from the dais.

  He turned to his sister and straightened. At her side, Lynnera was pinching the bridge of her nose as if this were a common occurrence at their royal parties.

  “Calm yourself, sister…” he said gently.

  The Princess was radiating anger like a storm, and Arii wondered if Lorch would require backup soon.

  She looked like she was about to breathe fire like the dragons of old.

  “Calm myself? Calm myself?! I hate these stupid parties; they are such a bore! Why must I sit here, hour after hour, and watch people frolic and grind against one another,” she growled, and Arii swore she saw Lorch wince.

  Gods, she was a little brat.

  Lorch’s back straightened, and Arii noticed the air of authority in his voice. She was making a fool of him in front of his subjects.

  Gesturing to her bodice, covered in golden liquid, Lorch’s voice radiated with authority.

  “Go get cleaned up before that stains,” he said, shifting to look at Hawke. “Commander, take the Princess to her rooms to change.”

  Commander Hawke did not need to be ordered twice. He approached the dais, but before he could lend the Princess a hand, Sybell barrelled past him, bumping the man with her shoulder roughly as she passed.

  Hawke’s face was almost hurt as he glanced after the young woman, before looking back at the King and bowing, then pacing quickly after her.

  “I am sorry for your sister’s disrespect, my son,” said Lynnera, her blue eyes watching Hawke’s retreating back with an unreadable look. Lorch sighed and slid into his chair, rubbing his fingers over his jaw.

  “Gods she is impossible! Every Gods damn party…”

  “She is restless,” said his mother, her eyes sliding to him. “She requires a distraction. Perhaps it’s time we send out letters for a potential husband?”

  This made Lorch chuckle and slap a hand against his knee. When his laughing eyes met with his mother, he noticed her face did not share his humour.

  His smiled faded. “Oh, you are serious,” he breathed, and then his grin returned. “Can we add to the letter ‘Dragon tamer required’? Or will that be seen in poor taste?”

  Lynnera’s lips quirked at her son and she shook her head. “Lorch…” Her expression softened. “Perhaps it is also time for you to seek a bride? The throne requires heirs.”

  Lorch groaned long and hard, waving his hand dismissively, as if this were the hundredth time they had discussed the topic.

  “Mother, please…”

  Arii swore that Lorch’s eyes sought her out and their gazes locked.

  She was first to look away.

  Before she did, she saw a glimmer of longing in the King’s gaze.

  Across the dais and opposite to where Arii stood, Elijah pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth and catalogued the scene to memory with keen eyes, seeing the flick of Arii’s hand, the spilling of the wine on the Princess’ gown, and then tasting the veil of sweetness on his tongue.

  Elijah knew then that Arii Clearwater was a user of magic.

  ~~~

  The party continued well past midnight, and Arii saw across the room that Tikkani was fighting back a yawn, pressing her hand against her mouth as her eyes watered. Arii almost felt sorry for her, but knew the party was nearing a close as the last of the partygoers stumbled off to either head home, or lodge in a spare room for the night. She could hear the distant sound of rain tapping the glass windows above.

  She loved the rain.

  Or perhaps she just enjoyed the sound.

  Love of anything was supposed to be an impossibility for a Fury.

  There had not been any further interruptions to the party save for the little spat with Sybell on the dais, and Arii had kept her eye out for any strange people from the other Courts attending the party.

  There had been none but snotty nosed North courtiers. It disappointed her. For a little while she had hoped to see a golden skinned Westerner, or a gentle faced Eastern Shifter.

  Hell, she would not have minded seeing a tall, rugged Southerner.

  Lorch said his farewells to the last couple of people dwelling the room, and Arii noticed Commander Hawke approaching her side.

  “At ease, recruit. You’re dismissed,” he said, his tired eyes softening. “Some left-over food from the party has been taken to the barracks for you and the others to enjoy. Good work tonight, Miss Clearwater.”

  Arii offered the Commander a small smile. “Thank you, Commander.”

  “Miss Clearwater, may I have a word?”

  Arii turned to see Lorch, standing nearby with his hands in the pockets of his pants. Her insides churned as Hawke bowed to the King and spared her a quick glance before he paced quickly from the room.

  It was then that Arii realised Lorch, Elijah and herself were the last to remain.

  Her tongue darted to wet her lips before she bowed to him.

  “Did you enjoy the party, Your Highness?” she said lightly. She could feel Elijah standing a few feet away, face hooded in shadow, his hands by his side, always in reach of his sword.

  “I would have pulled my own fingernails out than let it go on all night,” Lorch sighed, running a hand down his face to pinch his chin.

  Arii paused at this. She thought he liked the random, glittering parties he held in this room. She had watc
hed him enough throughout the night to know that he had not enjoyed the party like she thought he would, turning courtier women away – albeit politely.

  Despite this though, she noticed that whenever a story or concern of royal importance was brought to his attention, he deflected them smoothly to speak to his father. It was strange, and it confused her. One moment she felt he may care enough to hear out one of his subjects, then he was brushing them aside like he found it difficult to listen. Her head told her he perhaps did not know how to handle the pressure, her gut told her that perhaps he thought he was doing the best thing by referring them to his father, the King’s Hand.

  Lorch had a charming and smooth manner when it came to the people, so different from the stories she had once heard, despite his unsurety in dealing with his duty.

  The best moment – burned into her brain – had been when King Lorch Kruel had turned away Devina Divine.

  That had caused Arii’s lips to curl and her chest to compress with barely contained laughter. She had seen Devina’s glare, and her ugly grimace as she stormed away and into the thrumming mash of dancing partygoers.

  Oh, how she wished she had a painting of that exact moment, strung up in her room in the grey dorms of the School of Fate. It would hold a prized place above her mantle – perhaps doubling as a dartboard.

  Lorch inclined his head towards some nearby doors.

  “Care for some fresh air? It’s stifling in here.”

  Before she could reply, he was moving towards the doors.

  Arii glanced at Elijah, but realised the motion was a waste, she could not see his eyes – only a hint of his constant frown. Her eyes narrowed at him, and she had no doubt under his cloak he was giving her the same dirty glare.

  With a small sneer, she followed after the King.

  The night-time air cooled her clammy skin as Arii exited the throne room onto the small balcony, her dark eyes adjusting from the light of inside to out. She paused, her gaze dropping to a shiny golden object on the marble floor.

  A crown.

  Lorch’s crown.

  She felt her hair stand on end, and her lips pull back over her teeth as a light gust of rainy air whipped her braid over her shoulder and she spun to the sounds of struggle.

  In the moonlight stood Devina, holding Lorch to her chest like a lover, her wine-red hair tinged with glittering beads of rain. Her hand was cupping his cheek, nails pressing into his skin, the other held a knife to his throat. Though her lips were curled into a smirk, her eyes were livid with anger.

  Arii’s hand flew to the sword at her hip, drawing it slowly.

  “Devina.” She hissed, and Lorch’s eyes darted. She knew he wanted to speak but was wise and remained silent lest the blade press harder into his windpipe.

  Devina’s eyes widened with sudden dawning.

  “Well, well… what do we have here?” she said, and her slightly unhinged laughter fluttered into the night air as the Fury nodded in Arii’s direction. “Is she the reason you refused to share my bed tonight, Your Highness? Do you have any idea who she is?”

  That flame haired bitch.

  She was going to blow her cover, all because Lorch refused her advances.

  Devina Divine did not like to be refused.

  Lorch’s eyes were hard now, half of his face illumined by the moonlight. She could see the fight building, the anger igniting. Rain puddled on the marble, glittering like jewels spilled across the floor.

  Her eyes locked with his and she shook her head ever so slightly.

  Don’t you dare try it.

  “Come on!” called Devina. “A mere maid servant who felled a Kryvern with nothing but a kitchen knife?” She shifted and the blade caused blood to well and trickle down Lorch’s neck.

  His lips quivered in a silent snarl.

  What could Devina gain from taking Arii’s target? Was her pride so wounded from being refused, enough to anger the Three Fates? She knew this was Ariiaya’s assignment, she knew the Fates had chosen her. It was an unsaid rule that one Fury did not overstep another where their assignments were concerned.

  Arii took a step forward, sword raised, and Devina took one step back, pulling Lorch with her.

  Arii’s expression was stone.

  “Let him go, Devina, before you make a big mistake.”

  Devina’s look was perplexed, her fingers pressing Lorch’s face closer to her own. She brushed her lips along his ear and inhaled before whispering, “His fate has been decided, his death is near.”

  The shadows behind Devina rippled, and Arii felt her heart stutter as Elijah’s deep voice cut the night air.

  “But not before yours.”

  Like a viper his hand speared the darkness and clasped hers which held the dagger. His other hand shot his own blade at her kidney, and like a flash the Fury was twisting on the spot.

  Lorch ducked at that moment, narrowly avoiding her blade, and sliding to his knees. In a move Arii has never expected of him, Lorch twisted and swept his leg out in an attempt to take the woman’s feet out from beneath her.

  The fire-haired Fury was a blur, dodging Lorch’s attempt at sweeping her feet from beneath her while parring Elijah’s blade as it sheared the material of her gown. Metal against metal rang in the air as Lorch rolled out of the way.

  Elijah rained blows on the assassin, his blade whistling in a blur of stabs and parries. The man’s movements were quick and precise, giving the Fury a sure run for her money.

  Arii sprinted and skidded across the marble to Lorch, grabbing his arm as he stared at the two fighters as if entranced.

  “Your Highness!” she growled, and when he did not look at her, Arii said more forcefully, “Lorch!”

  His eyes skipped to hers at that moment and he stared.

  A line of blood trailed down his neck from a shallow cut, and Arii felt anger - gut churning, confusing anger as the ruby colour trailed below the neckline of his tunic.

  Lorch gripped her hand and she stilled as he whispered, “Elijah!”

  She saw in his face fear for his bodyguard.

  How odd.

  He had countless guards, countless men who could replace the hooded figure by his side, but he looked to be concerned for the man.

  War raged inside her, and she stared at Lorch’s face for what felt like an eternity. With a nod, she rose and faced the battling duo, the sword spinning in her hand.

  When she surveyed the two fighters, she realised she was not needed. Elijah had forced Devina back and the Fury’s eyes were wide with surprise and anger. Her hair was coming loose from its binds, burgundy strands fluttering as she ducked and narrowly avoided Elijah’s singing blade.

  Elijah’s hand snapped out, silver whistling in the moonlight. His blade nicked Devina’s exposed flesh, leaving a line of red in its wake. Even from her position a few paces away, Arii could see how close the man’s blows were to gutting the woman. Red mixed with black as they danced in the moonlight – their movements almost beautiful if it were not a fight to the death.

  Devina parried a jab at her gut before sparing a swift glance over her shoulder as she sensed Arii’s approach, and her expression was dark.

  “So, you’ve chosen,” the Fury hissed.

  It was not a question.

  Arii and Devina hated one another, had for majority of their time training in the School of Fate, but they were fellow Furies. If only Arii could explain, could tell her what she had told Nem. She tried to convey this with her eyes, but before Devina could read her expression, the woman was twisting away and pressing her back to the balustrade. Her features were set in a feral snarl as she turned, vaulted the railing, and leaped into the darkness.

  Arii knew the leap would not kill the assassin. She would surely be back, but not by invitation.

  Elijah was bar
ely winded as he sheathed his blade and went quickly to Lorch, helping him from the floor.

  “Are you alright?” the guard said, and Arii noticed his voice was laced with genuine concern.

  Lorch brushed it off and rose.

  The fear written on his face earlier was gone.

  He turned to Arii and stepped forward, taking her hand in his. A shiver tingled up her spine. Suddenly he was pulling her towards him, and his lips were pressed to her cheek, warm and gentle.

  Arii’s eyes widened in surprise as he pulled away slowly. His eyes met hers and he smiled.

  “Thank you, once again, Miss Clearwater,” he whispered, and she saw genuine gratitude in his eyes.

  She felt uncharacteristically speechless. She had hardly done a thing. Had she not seen it with her own eyes, she would not have known how incredibly talented with daggers Elijah was.

  His talent rivalled her own.

  Her beast rose its head, tilting and surveying the dark man curiously. She would not admit it, but his prowess had left her hot under the collar.

  Not in a bad way it seemed, if the heat slowly pooling in her core were any indication.

  Soon Lorch was turning from her, his hand lifting to his throat.

  “Let’s get back inside, I’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

  His hand touched the cut as he headed for the door.

  Elijah’s head turned to Arii, and she felt like he was waiting for her to say something. To confess to something.

  When she stared back at him in silence, her chin rising in a look of defiance, he growled - actually growled.

  That heat in her core began to fizzle out as cool night air dashed about them, teasing her hair with invisible fingers.

  What was eating him?

  His dark hood glittering with rain in the moonlight, Elijah turned to follow his King in from the night.

  Chapter Nine