He puts me down, and I turn around and hold up my hand. “Stop shouting. I’m kind of irritable after being stabbed. And do you always talk to your king this way? What’s the problem?”
The two sputter for a minute. “Witch, you—”
“My name is Arden. Why is challenging someone against the law?” I say, interrupting him. I doubt they’re going to give me a chance to talk later.
They communicate silently for a minute, then one steps forward to be their spokesperson. “Arden, I’m August,” he grits out. “It’s against the law for women to fight.”
“Seriously?” I throw a cross look over my shoulder at Valerian. We’re going to fix a few other things around here, including the backward mentality of the male dragons. “Why is it against the law?”
“Because you’re a woman, and our women don’t fight. Male dragons are protectors, and our females are caregivers,” he explains, his voice filled with exasperation.
“I see.” I shake my head in disappointment. “Well, I’m not a dragon, and therefore, I do not fall under your jurisdiction. I appreciate you taking the time to explain it to me.” I peek over his shoulder and see the coward whispering to the man beside him. “You ready to defend yourself?”
When he sneers at me, I take it as a yes. “Here are the rules,” I begin. A hand grabs my arm, and I raise an eyebrow.
The cadre steps forward. Valerian grabs the hand and bends it completely backwards until the man screams. “I did not give you permission to touch my mate, did I?” After sufficient groveling, he throws him off the dais. There’s the badass dragon I know and love. I stop. Damn it. I’ll worry about it later.
“Okay, here are the rules. No magic. I repeat, no magic. No shifting. We fight in human form. Pick your weapon,” I tell him.
“Sword,” he replies smugly.
“Sword it is. I’ll see you on the battlefield, coward.” I shut off the amplifier and peel the bloody shirt away from my chest. “I need a shower and a place to change clothes.” The cadre is standing in front of me with their arms crossed. “And obviously, we need to talk.”
27
VALERIAN
Until Arden’s speech, I hadn’t realized I’ve let guilt rule my decisions and my people rule me using guilt. Dragons are known for their honor and their straightforward approach to conflict, but instead of handling their dissent directly, I thrust Arden and the cadre into a perilous situation that resulted in her getting stabbed and a challenge of mercy.
Dropping my head into my hands, I try to get the pictures of her dying out of my mind, but it’s on replay. Every time I see it, my heart is yanked from my chest and I can’t breathe. Like the rest of the cadre, I’m angry at her for not telling us, but should we be? I don’t know how her seer visions work and neither does she right now, but there must be a better way to get around them. Then I remember her mother’s sacrifices based on her visions of Arden, and I wonder if they have much choice.
Instead of killing that asshole right away, I stood there arguing with the council. I snort. Another matter I need to handle right away. The current council has gained too much power, creating a dictatorship while leaving little room for growth and change. When this is over, we’re holding new elections for those positions. Let the people decide who they want to serve them, and a few of those seats better be held by women, or I’m going to catch hell. A hand claps me on the shoulder.
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Fallon advises, sitting down beside me. Out of all the cadre, he’s the most likely to understand because of his duties to his kingdom. “It’s a thin line between responsibility for your kingdom and responsibility for the people in it. They don’t always mean the same thing and can often be in conflict with each other. It’s only important you learn and adapt.”
“I’ll probably stay here for a couple of weeks while everyone else returns to The Abbey.” I’m silent for a minute, thinking about the work I need to do. “Her eyes shocked me when I saw her, but they look good on her. How’s the training going?”
“Slowly, but it’s new magic and it will take time. She’s a fast learner, so that will help,” he replies. “Are you sure she can beat this dragon?” His eyes are intent and serious when they land on me, needing reassurance she can come out of this challenge intact.
“Easily,” I assure him. “Now, if it were the brother, I’d be more worried. He’s a nasty piece of work and the biggest dissenter in my ranks. The main thing we need to watch out for is cheating. Arden pegged him accurately—he’s a coward.”
* * *
Standingon the edge of the field, I stand behind Arden with my hands on her shoulders. Even though I reassured Fallon earlier, I find myself a wee bit nervous about the battle, and my hands tighten.
“Take it easy, big guy,” she says, pulling away from my hands. “Tell me about him.”
Thankfully, I’ve been watching him and his brother the last few weeks. “He’s strong, with a long reach and propensity for tackling his opponents. He’s not bad with a sword, but he’s unpredictable, which makes him dangerous. His inferiority complex and his temper are his biggest weaknesses, both of which you can turn in your favor.” I turn her to face me. “Try not to get stabbed again today. I don’t think I’ll survive a second time.”
Her startling green eyes look at me softly. “I’ll do my best.” She hands the hood of her armor to me and struts out into the field, a warrior and a damn fine woman. My heart swells with pride.
When the battle begins, she uses the first ten minutes to lay a false trail, and he eats it up. She allows him to showboat while she dances around him, only engaging enough to test his response before retreating. He starts to get cocky, paying less attention to her and more attention to the crowd, until it bites him in the ass. The next time he turns to bow to the crowd, she whips her sword up and swats him on the butt.
The crowd roars with laughter, but they’re not laughing a minute later. He whips around and attacks her, but she knows his moves now, while he’s taken little time to learn hers, and she uses it to her advantage. With each new move, blood appears on his body until he’s covered in red from all the slices she’s made on him. Still, he doesn’t call for mercy.
Arden glances at me in frustration when she realizes she’ll have to catch him in a death hold in order to get him to surrender. His pride won’t let him concede defeat to her, a woman and mate to the king he hates. She becomes a blur, moving around him, slicing his legs and arms repeatedly until he gets frustrated and leaps toward her, trying to tackle her to the ground, but she steps to the side. Before he can get up, she places the sword at his neck.
“Mercy or death,” she says, her voice ringing out clearly. The crowd is silent while they wait for his answer.
