by Lindsey Duga
The half-royal, half-heretic prince dodged and slashed through dwarf, goblin, and troll as if they were nothing. He moved like something out of the gates of the afterlife. And what was more?
He was free of blue flames. No one had Kissed him.
Perhaps there hadn’t been time to administer him one, or he wanted to prove that he didn’t need it…but there he was, slaying monsters in one blow.
After seeing him fight this morning, I shouldn’t have been surprised, but deep down, I didn’t truly believe it. Because I’d guessed that, like I had, he’d at least take a simple battle Kiss against an entire horde of monsters.
Yet, clearly, he was doing fine without.
His footwork was fast and light, his sword strokes sharp and ruthless, and the way he rolled and dodged—it was if he’d been trained by barbarians. His style was undisciplined and wild, yet completely effective.
As eager to see more of his fighting as I was to kill another monster, I rushed past a burning stable and clashed swords with a dwarf.
He’d taste the blue flames of my blade, just as the goblin had.
The dwarf’s beard was oily and black, his skin was gray, and his eyes were liquid amber. He growled and slashed his sword down. I was slow with my shield, and the sword nicked my shoulder, dousing the blade with crimson blood. He brought the sword to his mouth and licked it.
Breathing through the fiery pain in my shoulder, I took a step back as the dwarf howled with delight. “Myriana’s pure heir. My lucky night.” With crazy eyes, he lowered his sword and charged at me again.
I raised my shield and tried to parry his blow, but he had tasted my blood and was crazed by the idea of killing Myriana Holly’s direct descendant. Still, I wasn’t the princess with the best sword skills in the Legion for nothing, and I had my battle magic. With my shield raised to stop any more blows from above, I dropped to the ground, diving between the dwarf’s legs and coming up from behind. I swung at his undefended back just as he rotated and brought his arm up to stop my sword.
It went halfway through his arm. If it had been a goblin, the blade would’ve sliced clean through, but dwarves’ skin was a lot tougher, thicker.
I wrenched my sword out of his flesh and moved to stab his heart, but the ground rumbled under my feet. In horror I looked at the black blood spilled on the ground, then back up.
The dwarf’s beard twitched as he smiled.
Dwarf blood magic. Holy Queen, no.
The earth moved, and rubble rose around my ankles, rocks digging into my shins and locking me into place. Oh Sweet Sisters, I couldn’t move my legs.
He wanted my death to be slow and agonizing. He lashed out at my thigh.
The cut was deep, blood gushing from the wound and soaking my trousers. With the loss of my blood, so came the loss of battle magic. It flickered and died.
Seeing the flow of blood, and my body without its protective shield, he ran his gray tongue over his top whiskers.
I trembled. Without my magic, how could I win? I raised my shield and gritted my teeth, blood pumping painfully from my pounding heart.
As the dwarf tossed my shield aside and nicked another wound on my ribs before knocking me to my back, I prayed to the Sisters to save me from my own stupidity.
I realized the confidence I’d felt when killing that goblin had been foolish. How could I have been so arrogant to believe my Kiss was worth the power of two? The Legion gave us partners for a reason: so we could protect each other, watch each other’s backs. Kellian was gone because I, his partner, hadn’t been there.
And as much as he needed me then, I needed him now.
The dwarf raised his sword above his head and brought it down. The blade stopped a breath away as a sword’s tip emerged in a bloody hole through the dwarf’s broad chest.
The body crumbled to dust.
Zach stood over me, his sword bathed in what looked like ink. His expression was not battle-hardened or one of anger as I had expected it to be. He looked at me with amusement, maybe even a little curiosity.
He said the same thing he’d said in the corridor. “Have to admit, I’m impressed.”
Chapter
Nine
Antlers of the Stag
I’d told Zach I wasn’t looking to impress anyone, but when he offered me his arm, I accepted it. He helped me to a safer location and lowered me to a large wooden beam, then he dropped to his knees and inspected the gash on my thigh.
The battle was pretty much over. Smoke rose to the first signs of stars, and the Illye circle cleared as the princesses emerged from its protection.
Zach ripped off a piece of my dress and pressed it against the wound to stop the flow of blood. I gritted my teeth and winced. “Sorry,” he breathed, touching a gentle hand to my knee. “You’ll need to get this cleaned up. It’s pretty deep. Stitches, too.”
“Are you daft?” I cradled my head, woozy from blood loss. “Just Kiss me.”
Zach leaned back, frowning. “This really should be cleaned first, princess.”
It was just a simple healing Kiss, but I was in no mood to argue with him, so when a prince passed, I stopped him.
“Christopher?” I said.
He stopped. “Princess Ivy.”
At his side was a young woman with a swollen belly. Her cheeks were covered in streaks, her tears having left clean tracks through the soot and ash. She was surely a victim of the attack, but she seemed to have escaped mostly unscathed, save for the cut on her arm, and, since she was obviously pregnant it was a double miracle.
I beckoned Christopher toward me and, without question, he pressed his lips to mine. His magic rose up, strong and steady like a horse’s gallop, and met mine. I spoke the healing spell in my head, and the gash on my thigh, and the nicks on my arm, shoulder, and ribs healed cleanly. Though I felt much better, I wished the healing Kiss also replenished blood, but I’d have to wait for my body to produce it.
With the last bit of the spell, I took the arm of the maiden, touched my lips to her wound, and it healed instantly.
“Thank you, princess,” she said.
“You’re welcome. You were very lucky to get away with only a scratch.”
Christopher bent down to whisper in my ear, “It was a bloody miracle. She was found under the rubble of a collapsed house, with the bodies of the rest of her family. She should be dead.”
As they left, I sent a quick prayer to Myriana that the poor girl wouldn’t have to raise the child all on her own.
I looked back to Zach, who was watching Christopher and the pregnant girl walk away with pulled brows and a tight jaw—an expression that held both anger and somehow…regret?
Before I could question him, he was already disappearing into the final remnants of smoke.
…
After making sure all the creatures had been slain and Tulia had promised to bring Lorena back to the stables, I was whisked to the castle on the back of Edric’s horse. Waves of anger rolled off him as we rode, but I was too weak to care. I leaned my head against his back, glad to be away from the smoke that stung my eyes and burned my throat.
Edric had to lift me off his horse, and Brom helped me up the stone steps into the Hall of Ancestors with the rest of the Royals trickling in. Most veered into the western halls, where they’d get cleaned up, see to any healing, and rest before the celebration feast. Any victory was reason enough to celebrate nowadays.
I yearned to follow them, but when I noticed Brom was leading me toward the center of the Hall, I stood up straighter and supported more of my own weight, preparing myself for a lecture from the Master Mages. Surely word of my solo act and Zach’s rescue had reached them.
But what I saw standing on the elevated platform at the end of the Hall made me want to turn around and face a dozen dwarves instead.
Amid the Council, Weldan, Kendra, Zach, and the Master Mages, was a woman with long dark hair and a maroon dress. She stopped talking to Master Gelloren as she caught sight of me, and her eyes n
arrowed.
The bones under my skin froze as if I’d just swallowed icicles.
Oh my Queen, why is she here? Now of all moments? When did she leave Freida?
The southern kingdom was practically a month’s journey away. They must have received a letter signaling her arrival. Why had no one told me? Did the Council enjoy watching me sweat?
As much as every fiber in me wanted to turn and run, I let go of Bromley and mounted the platform. The Council and the Mages stopped talking as I stood in front of the woman in the maroon dress.
“Mother,” I said softly. “It is good to see you.”
Queen Dahlia Myriana took one look at my smoke-stained dress, my dirty face and arms, and the dried blood, and her perfect red lips twisted into a grimace. She raised her arm and backhanded me across the face.
My head whipped to the side, but by some miracle I didn’t stumble. I stayed upright, tasting blood in my mouth. My ears started ringing.
I glanced at the Saevallans, the Council, and the mages, out of sheer embarrassment. None of them looked especially surprised, except Zach. His mouth was open in shock, and I just had time to notice Weldan’s hand on his arm before I dropped my head in shame.
“I wish I could say the same, child.” My mother’s cold voice dripped with disdain. “Imagine my displeasure when, within the hour of my arrival, I was told that my own flesh and blood shamed me not once, but twice.”
I was used to the words, but her tone was worse than usual. I had embarrassed her with my recklessness, and she was making sure I paid for it…in front of everyone.
“First, losing another partner, and then you risk Myriana’s magic by tossing your life to the winds of fate? I would ask what you were thinking, but obviously you weren’t. Entering a battle without an Illye shield…without a partner to protect you. Tell me, child, do you wish to taint the name of Myriana? Or mine?”
“No, my Queen.” I dipped my head even lower.
There was shuffling next to me, but I didn’t dare look up to see where it came from.
I could feel my mother’s cold eyes on me as her voice echoed across the hall. “I return with news of the Wicked Queen’s whereabouts to find my Legion suffering from my own daughter’s selfishness and carelessness. How many does Kellian make? Five? Six?”
I jerked my head to the side, as if she’d struck me again—she might as well have. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Zach’s fists curled at his sides.
“Did he die like Telek?” she asked.
My heart cracked. As I struggled to push down tears, I silently begged her to stop.
“A sword through his chest because his battle magic had run out and you were off fighting a lowly creature instead of staying by his side?”
Pain ripped through every nerve ending in my body. Telek’s death haunted me to this day. Master Gelloren spent months coaxing me to fight again afterward, telling me it hadn’t been my fault. I’d chosen to protect Minnow, who had fallen before a troll, instead of watching over Telek. His blood was on my hands. Sisters, forgive me.
“Perhaps you’re ready to finally join the other princesses at Freida. Maybe we might find the one thing you’re truly good at.”
I closed my eyes and took a slow, deep breath, the world dimming around me.
As painful and harsh as my mother’s words were, they were true. I had been prideful to think I could’ve taken on a horde attack without a partner. Time and again I was faced with the downfall of another partner, and the darkest parts of my heart—the parts with my mother’s voice—told me that it wasn’t the Mark of Myriana’s fault, but mine. It had always been mine.
I didn’t deserve another partner, let alone a chance to go after the Sable Dragon.
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. Insecurity drowning me, clawing at my throat…
“I’m afraid she can’t join them just yet.”
I raised my head. Zach stood to my side, a step in front of me. It was a foolish thought, yet it seemed almost as if he was trying to shield me.
Queen Dahlia raised one eyebrow. “Ah, the legendary swordsman I’ve heard so much about. And why can’t she, Prince Zachariah?”
“Because Princess Ivy has agreed to be my partner.”
If the Hall hadn’t already been quiet, it went dead silent now. I struggled to keep my face neutral, even though inside I was tearing my hair out in confusion.
What in the name of the Holy Queen?
My mother folded her arms. “You were in the battle and rescued her from her stupidity, and yet you would have my daughter as your princess?”
I tried not to wince, and it came out as a twitch.
“I would. If she’ll still have me.” He cast a glance back at me, and the ghost of a smile traveled over his lips.
I opened and closed my mouth like an idiot, completely stunned. What was more surprising? Zach’s sudden change of mind wasn’t the thing that had me speechless. He’d pulled me out of a dark, bottomless pit of self-hatred and loneliness my mother’s words always stirred within me.
No one had ever stood up to Queen Dahlia before—she was the Queen Heir of Myriana. It simply wasn’t done. And no one had stood up to her, especially, on my behalf. But this prince had, and from our past interactions I couldn’t fathom why.
“I say we discuss this after the feast,” Master Gelloren said, at last interrupting an awkward silence.
“An excellent idea,” King Helios said, then gestured to my mother—his daughter—to come with him. Dahlia cast another disgusted look my way and followed her father.
Since Zach had consented to the partnership, only the approval of the Council was needed now. Did the Council even want me with Zach after all my mother had said? I hated to admit it, but Zach with his heretic bloodline wasn’t even as much a risk as a princess who didn’t stand by her prince.
With the show over, the rest of the Council and the Saevallans started out of the Hall.
But Zach didn’t leave. He stayed next to me, and in a low voice, said, “May I walk you to your room?”
I swallowed, the shame still burning on my skin. “I can manage, but thank you.”
“I’d like to speak with you.”
“All right, then.” I allowed myself to take Zach’s outstretched arm. Partly because I needed it, and partly because my mother was still watching and she needed to see that Zach and I were serious about being partners.
We walked down the corridors, silent. Bromley trailed after us for a while, but when I realized Zach wasn’t going to talk with Brom around, I dismissed my page. With a scowl, he vanished into the entrance of a servants’ corridor hidden behind a tapestry.
“You want to tell me why you suddenly changed your mind?” I finally asked. When he stayed silent for a few more paces, I said the words that made my voice crack. “Please don’t tell me you were trying to be chivalrous by protecting me from my mother. I don’t need anyone’s protection from her.” No matter how great it felt.
Zach stopped mid-stride, his elbow tightened, squeezing my arm against his ribs. His hazel eyes bored into me, a gaze so intense I found it hard to swallow. To do anything but stare right back. “I know you don’t.”
His words settled over me like a blanket. They were genuine. Earnest. The truest words he’d spoken to me, it felt like.
“Gelloren told me about the Sable Dragon.”
I dropped my gaze, curling my fingers around the fabric of his sleeve. So that’s why he’d suddenly rushed off while we were in the library. He saw the book and made inferences from my previous words. “Did you think I wanted you as my partner for just any battle?”
I looked up at him. “And you want to go.”
Slowly, his grin came back, and I couldn’t believe this was the godlike fighter I’d seen drenched in blood amid the smoke and fires less than an hour ago.
“It sounds like the adventure of a lifetime,” he said.
I dropped his arm and leaned against the wall. We watched each other carefully, scr
utinizing. Me, with a frown, and Zach, with a smile.
“You’re using me,” I said. “You want to go after the dragon, and you know I’m your ticket.”
Zach tilted his head, the smile still there. “Tell me, princess, how is that any different than you wanting me for your benefit?”
I wasn’t happy with the way he phrased it, but it was true. I did want him. He had unprecedented skill.
A mutually beneficial relationship.
So why was I so wary? Why did I not trust that charming smile?
I had no other option. If they were to take my mission away from me—especially after the verbal lashing my mother had given me—because I had yet to find a partner, I’d never forgive myself. And even if I did have someone else to take, none could compare to the prince who stood before me.
And, though it made me feel weak and vulnerable, I remembered him standing in front of me, facing my mother. A human shield to the poison of her words seeping into my skin and nestling into my heart and mind.
“Very well. If the Council agrees, let us be partners.”
Without another word, Zach took my arm again—continuing his gesture of support. Already, he was treating me like a partner should.
We walked the rest of the way to my room in silence, and as soon as I was behind the safety of my door, I slid to the ground and pulled my knees to my chest, letting the sobs come.
I wept for Kellian and Telek. I wept for all my partners. And I wept for myself.
My mother hated me with every fiber of her being.
With her voice echoing in my ears, I stayed on the floor and sobbed until Bromley came to get me for the Council meeting.
…
Even after my mother’s hurtful speech, the Council agreed to my partnership with Zach. Thankfully, I was still the purest princess in the Legion with the only Kiss powerful enough to take down the Sable Dragon. And after seeing Zach defeat Amias and hearing of his skills at the wall, they were more than satisfied he was a good match. In fact, they never once mentioned his heretic blood.
Master Gelloren took Zach’s hand and mine then pressed them together, wrapping them in a garland of ivy. During the partnership ritual, the mages had a variety of holy plants to choose from, but since I was a pure descendant, they used the flora for which I was named. They believed it invoked a deeper bond between our magic and Kisses.
