If looks could kill, I’d be dead already as she stomped across the arena, never taking her eyes off mine. The traditional fabrics she wore tied around her distracted me. I knew she didn’t do it on purpose, but I looked at her and saw only a shadow of my mate. I held my staff in both hands as she bowed once more to me, and then the dance began.
Practiced steps from years of training with her helped my precision. If I was even a step behind, she would crack her bo on my shins. She relished those moments. Beating up an old fae more than twice her age was probably the only thing that brought her joy anymore. That and the cetani.
Block high. Block low.
“Palm down,” she scolded.
We crossed our long wooden weapons in the middle, and the crack reverberated through the air. I swung my staff and connected once more with hers. She became the aggressor pressing me backward. I knew these steps. Though older and far less strong, they were still ingrained in my memories. It was only for the show after all.
“Ha!” she screamed as she moved.
Fighting with the bo was a specific technique that the draconian fae specialized in. Umari, as their leader, was the best among them. Though rare, whenever the draconians were blessed with a child, they were taught to walk with bos in their hands, and rather than attending any form of traditional schooling, they trained with their weapons and their bodies day after day. My dance with Umari was just for show. Unless I enchanted her—which I never would—she would always have the upper hand in a fight, and she knew it.
She snapped her bo across my fingers. “Focus.”
I stared her down as we continued.
There was a line. She’d gotten close to it a handful of times over the years. Perhaps I was too kind to my people. Perhaps I was too lenient. But she had pushed too far, and I’ve had to make it clear in the past what behavior would not be tolerated. I knew she hated me. Blamed me. But no more than I blamed myself. And if the folk of the southern kingdom thought they could all get away with her conduct, I’d have a lot more problems on my hands.
One time. One time I enchanted Umari, and I’d never apologized for it. I’d never taken it back, and I never would. I wanted all the fae in the Flame Court and throughout Alewyn to have the freedom to think and feel as they chose. I never wanted anyone to fear my ability to enchant their minds. It was a power I used so rarely, I’d nearly forgotten how until she had insulted my mate. She thought she had the right as the leader of the draconians, but she didn’t. No one had that right. Not even me.
Even still, I wanted to like Umari. I wanted to love her, even. But that would never be. Though I knew it would pain my Efi, I would never be closer to Umari than I was in that moment, and we were worlds apart.
She stopped and slammed the tip of her bo to the mat.
“Where is your mind today, Elder King?”
“Perhaps I am just too old for this.”
She scoffed. “You promised her.”
“Do not remind me of the words to my mate. I know what I said to her.”
The fae along the walls began to shift uncomfortably. There had always been animosity between us. Some days, I believed they came for that show and not to watch Umari show off the skills of her people.
“Where is my grandson?” she asked.
“He is away on a mission.”
“Will you tell me anything else?”
“There is nothing else to be said.”
She bowed and left the arena. We were only halfway through our ritual, but I think we both had reached our limit.
“That went well,” Inok said from behind me.
“Considerably.” I handed him my staff. “This old fae needs a drink.”
“Yes, I believe mothers-in-law have that impact on everyone, Your Grace. The crown is no exception.”
“Indeed.”
When the draconian fae fled the Wind Court during the Iron Wars, they settled in the dunes of my kingdom. Efi was sent by her mother as a liaison to barter peace. Our mating bond did not emerge right away, and she was as fierce as her mother during negotiations. Eventually, we settled on an agreement, though Efi drew a promise from me that would always bring me and her mother together. Every ten years, the southern kingdom held the Trials, an event known across the world for its showcase of fighting technique and talent. Come war or peace, life or death, I promised that her mother and I would perform a choreographed bo fight to officially open the Trials, which would then follow a month later.
Soon, warriors from all over the kingdom would fill Halemi, the thriving city adjacent to the castle. Several events took place during the Trials. Once they officially began, we would have dancers, fae beast taming, and the pit fighters would perform, fighting through a bracket of trained males entered by the pit lords. At the very end, the traditional Rites would take place, allowing any fae who lived in the southern kingdom to show off their fighting skills, hoping to become a member of the royal guard.
Days later, I woke to Inok throwing my heavy curtains open and urging me from bed. I sat at the edge and wished my body was as lithe as it once was. Glancing out of the window, I noticed the sun hadn’t risen. I pulled my long gray hair behind me and stretched. “What is the reason for waking me at this ungodly hour?” I groaned, rubbing my eyes.
