Page 98 of A Rose Among Snakes

He barely had time to react as I landed blow after blow, strike after strike. I could almost hear my father saying, “That’s it, faster, again, again,”just as he had all those years ago when giving me lessons. The memory stoked me forward, allowing me to push past the fatigue creeping back in, as I supported each attack with every muscle in my body. He couldn’t keep up anymore and turned to run a few strides ahead and put some distance between us.

I followed, keeping my pressure relentless and as he turned to face me, his back slammed against the wall, rattling the iron candelabra fastened just above him. Leoro’s gaze darted to either side of his body as he evaluated his options. With an overhead arc, I brought my blade down aiming for the spot where his neck and shoulder met.

Leoro tracked the movement and jumped out of the way at the last second. Recovering faster than me, he mimicked my maneuver and raised his weapon over his head. As quickly as I could manage, I did the same and our swords met in the middle with a loud, metallic crash. We remained in that position, both straining to gain the upper hand, but he was stronger than me and I bent under the force. My spine arched backward and my arms shook with the effort.

Without warning, Leoro slid his blade down to smash against my crossguards, the force shuddering through me and loosening my grip on my sword. As he stepped back, he angled the edge to slice into the top of my exposed forearm. I cried out and reflexivelydropped my arms, backing out of reach of his sword. Kezara yelled and Velian roared in anger, but I couldn’t afford to acknowledge it. Searing pain shot through my arm and I failed to lift it despite multiple attempts.

“Do you wish to forfeit?” Leoro taunted, chest laboring for each breath as he leaned back against the wall for support.

Blood flowed freely from the wound and I cradled it against my body, pressing my right forearm over the length of it, sword still in hand, and hissed, “Never.”

But my body disagreed.

I was lightheaded from exertion and, unable to persevere, fell to my knees, eliciting cries of fear from both Blaise siblings. Body trembling, I let myself glance over at Velian and the terror on his face broke my heart.

I tried.

I had tried to save them, but I failed.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered to him.

Leoro’s diabolical laughter pulled my attention back to him, and I merely watched as he lifted the sword above his head once more to deliver the killing blow. I was ready to accept my fate.

I was done.

Leoro still rested with his back against the wall and as he lazily lifted his arms up, the blade slid between the iron limbs of the candelabra with a harsh scrape. He pulled his arms down and as he took a step forward, the crossguards caught on the iron fixture and stuck there. However, his momentum continued to carry his exhausted body forward, and the sword slipped out of his hands.

He looked at his empty palms, then back at the weapon dangling from the candelabra, his brow crinkled with confusion. Rage contorted his vile features and he charged at me, hands outstretched toward my neck.

“MIHRRA!” Velian’s bellow tore through my despair and spurred me back into action.

In the span of three long strides, I willed my wounded arm to assist the other one and firmly held my sword in front of me, skewering Leoro through his chest. His onyx eyes rounded in shock, and then he gave me a grim smile. Leaning over, his fingers grasped for my neck—and still enraged—pushed himself further onto my sword, wrapping his hands around my throat.

He squeezed tight, cutting off my air supply. I let go of the sword and grappled with his hands, clawing and scraping, but he gave no indication of feeling any pain. As if encouraged by my attempts at defense, his fingers constricted. My vision blurred around the edges, and my strength flagged. I was vaguely aware of everyone yelling my name, but I could hardly hear over the sound of blood pounding in my ears.

Then, as if he was standing right next to me, I heard my father’s voice say,“Fight, Mihrra. Don’t let him win. Don’t let him take you, too.”

A bolt of energy shot through my body, and I forced myself to my feet. Leoro’s fingers still gripped my neck, but I mustered my remaining strength to drive my knee up into his groin. He jerked, his fingers loosening enough for me to escape his hold. I reared back out of reach with a considerable gasp and then lungedforward again, my hands finding the hilt of the sword in Leoro’s chest.

I pulled the sword out and wasted no time slicing through the air and dragging the blade across his throat.

Blood spurted as he stumbled backward, clutching at his neck to staunch the flow. Eyes flaring and mouth gaping like a fish, he fell to his knees, never taking his hateful stare off me. A moment later, he stopped struggling and fell on his back, his blood pooling around him on the white marble floor. The only sound in the room was the blood gurgling from his slit throat as he clung to the remaining threads of life; until at last, he was finally still, obsidian eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

Chapter Fifty-Six

Mihrra

Blood.

Blood dripped down the blade, running in rivulets down my arms, sticky and hot. My sword clattered to the ground, breaking the spell of silence. In horror, I stared at my hands, my entire body trembling as reality sank in. All at once, a pair of guards rushed at me, seizing my arms in rough grips, one of them exclaiming,

“Murderer!”

“Straight to the dungeon,” said the other.

“No, let her go!” Velian shouted.

“Wait! I’m the queen,” Kezara’s voice rang out as she thrashed against her guards. “I’m the queen and I say to let her go.” The guards holding me paused and frowned at each other.

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