Page 11 of Prince of Shadow and Ash

“You did well,” he said, his voice quiet, respectful. “Although I shouldn’t have allowed him to get so close in the first place.”

“What? No.” Adelaide shook her head.

Despite the heaviness in her limbs, the clenching in her stomach, and the headache forming behind her eyes, she had to disagree with Monparthian culture. She may have been born to a Monparthian father and raised in Monparth, but Mother had taught her the same beliefs she had learned from her mother. Men should protect, yes, but women had every right to defend themselves.

“You were waiting for a command. I would have asked for your help if I needed it.”

Sir Charing knit his brow. “I have watched you train, my lady. I am not sorry I did not protect you. I am sorry I did not save you from taking a life.”

Adelaide busied herself cleaning her knives. But as she remembered the scream...the glassy, vacant eyes of the last bandit...her hands shook again. She knew what would happen when she chose to act. Mother had told her often enough.“Blades are for hurting and killing. Using them is a grave responsibility.”Adelaide had thought she understood that before. Now she actually did. She exhaled, trying to get her muscles under control. Her hand slipped, and the blade nicked the fleshy part of her hand beneath her thumb. She winced and turned away.

“The first battle, the first kill...if a knight tells you it was not difficult, that it did not take time for them to...forgive themselves,” Sir Charing said, his tone somber, “they are either lying or monsters.”

She nodded and released a little of the magic pent up inside her into her palm. Warmth radiated across the cut, numbing and healing. A soft blue light shone between her fingers in her clenched fist, but she kept her hand close to her stomach and cupped her other hand over it to hide the glow. Mother would have a fit if she saw Adelaide breaking their no-magic rule.

There had once been mages in Monparth. Now, so far as Adelaide knew, she was the only one. A couple years before her birth, every mage in Monparth was massacred. Then the killer vanished, just like shadows. So that’s what people called the unknown murderer, when they spoke of the massacre at all: The Shadow. And Adelaide hid her magic so a decades-old threat wouldn’t re-emerge to ensure her magic-infused blood soaked the ground.

But the cut was small, healing it wouldn’t take long. No one would see. The light faded. She opened her fist. All healed. She returned her knives to the straps sewn into her boot and turned back to Sir Charing. “Does it get better?”

Charing frowned. “This feeling will fade, yes. You will feel better, in the sun of another day, when this is in the past, yes. Does killing get better? No. Easier? Regretfully...yes.”

Adelaide returned to Zephyr as Mother and Sir Charing also remounted. As they continued toward the Drummonds, Adelaide’s thoughts wandered.

She appreciated Sir Charing’s honesty. Of all her father’s knights, only Sir Charing and Sir Ruddard had never disparaged her or Minerva for learning to use knives and daggers. Only Sir Charing had ever helped. The others, Adelaide knew, spoke disapprovingly behind their backs of Mother continuing the Khastallander tradition of mothers teaching their daughters to defend themselves. Father hadn’t minded. He adored Mother and usually agreed with her. Her half-siblings, however, were as disdainful about Adelaide keeping blades in her boots as they were about...pretty much everything else about her and Minerva and their mother. Never in front of Father, of course. At least since four of her five half-siblings had moved away, she no longer had to deal with them. Father’s eldest son was more dismissive than outright antagonistic, but she was still glad to leave him and his snobbish wife behind.

Finally, they arrived at the Drummond estate. Firelight flickered from various windows in the three-story stone mansion. A guard paced the crenellated roof. Adelaide thought the combination of villa and castle looked strange and boxy. The Drummonds had no personal chapel, like the small, plain stone structure within Father’s castle walls. But Minerva had said in her letters they attended the parish chapel a half days’ ride away if they needed the council of a priest or to pay the gratitude tax to Etiros after the harvest. The party dismounted in the courtyard as servants rushed to take care of their horses and trunks.

Minerva and her husband, Sir Gaius Drummond, met them at the entrance. Minerva was shorter than Adelaide, making Min just above average height for a woman in Monparth. She had a slender build Adelaide envied. Her stomach had an almost imperceptible bump, but she was just over four months pregnant. Wisps of her dark hair, piled in braids on her head with silver pins, framed her soft features and round cheeks. Like Adelaide, she had a deep tan complexion and brown eyes, although Minerva’s eyes and skin were lighter. Of the two of them, Minerva had gotten more of their father’s Monparthian looks.

Sir Gaius was barely taller than Adelaide, with an athletic build. Strong, but lean. Neatly combed reddish hair and a short red beard framed his ruddy face. His blue eyes sparkled as he greeted them with a warm yet nervous smile.

Minerva ran up to their mother and hugged her, planting a kiss on her cheek. “Mother! I’m so glad you could come!”

“As am I.” Tears glistened in the corners of Mother’s eyes. “Your father regrets he couldn’t join us, but he felt he couldn’t leave in the middle of the renovations.”

Minerva turned to Adelaide, her smile wrinkling around her eyes. “Ad!” Her expression changed from delight to horror. “Is that...blood?”

“I’m fine,” she said in a rush. “It’s not mine.”

“What happened?” Minerva demanded.

“Bandits.” Sir Ruddard spoke up from behind them. “Everyone is safe and unharmed.”

Gaius looked alarmed. “Where? Do we need to send men?”

“No, no. There were only twelve, and they are all dead.”

Gaius ushered Minerva deeper inside. “Perhaps we should finish discussing this alone, sir.” He smiled at Minerva. “You ladies go upstairs.”

Minerva cocked an eyebrow. “If you are concerned about usladieshearing about fighting, you should take another look at my sister’s dress.”

The muscles on the back of Adelaide’s neck knotted. She chased away the tension with an uncomfortable laugh. “Come, Sir Gaius, you’ve been married to my sister long enough to know we have claws.”

“I only...” Gaius flushed. “You shouldn’t need to fight. It is our duty to protect as far as we are able. And it is my honor to protect you.” He kissed Minerva’s forehead. “But mostly I think your mother and sister look ready to sleep.”

Part of Adelaide wanted to argue, but she couldn’t disagree with him on the ready for sleep part. She wanted nothing more than to lie down on a nice, comfy bed. Two days on the hard ground was not her idea of a good time.

“Of course!” Minerva grabbed Adelaide’s hand and led them into the manor. She linked one arm with Adelaide’s and the other with Mother’s arm. “I’ll take you to your rooms.”

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