Page 59 of Prince of Shadow and Ash

She pushed her confusion away, taking in every strike, every swing. Every crash of metal-on-metal vibrated in her chest. MacCombe landed a glancing blow on Regulus’ shoulder. Her fingers hurt from clenching the bench, so she grabbed fistfuls of her skirt instead. Regulus fell back, on the defensive. MacCombe swung. Regulus thrust his sword forward. MacCombe quickly countered, batting away Regulus’ blade, but now he was off balance. Regulus let the force of MacCombe’s counter do most of the work as he swung his sword up and around. MacCombe’s sword was too far to his right as Regulus brought his blade around on the side of MacCombe’s head.

Regulus didn’t pause, landing blow after blow. MacCombe’s sword slipped out of his fingers and fell on the dirt as he raised his hands. Regulus pulled back. Adelaide leapt to her feet, cheering with the rest of the crowd. Regulus sheathed his sword and offered his hand to MacCombe. MacCombe accepted the handshake, then retrieved his sword. Regulus turned toward the spectators and removed his helm, bowing toward Baron Carrick. As he straightened, he looked at her and the scarred corner of his mouth turned up in a slight smile. He did not swagger as he walked off the field, as Nolan had, but he held his head up and his shoulders back.

The last four pairs of swordsmen fought, and Baron Carrick called a break while he decided pairs for the next round—and which loser would get a chance at redemption. Adelaide left her sister and the Drummonds and made her way to the waiting competitors.

Regulus grinned as she approached, his silver-gray eyes sparkling. Despite the rivulets of sweat on his skin, making his slicked-down hair stick to his face, he still looked good. Her heart leapt. Behind Regulus, Dresden stood with four other knights.

Estevan, the knife-thrower. A muscular knight with a crooked nose and short brown hair. One knight had longer, dark blond hair and a stubbly beard that made quite a contrast with Dresden’s thick, short beard. The fourth had dark skin and black, short hair in tight curls. They all looked at her as she curtsied.

Regulus smiled. “Do we need such formality?”

“Do we everneedformality?” Adelaide grinned. “Formality is demanded by societal ideas of politeness, not necessity.”

Crooked Nose chuckled. “Oh, I like her, Captain.”

“Captain?” She hadn’t meant to voice her confusion aloud, but she couldn’t help it.

Regulus shrugged. “I’ve told him repeatedly we’re not mercenaries anymore. I’m not his captain. But he’s stubborn and foolhardy and will never change.”

“See?” Stubble said. “Regulus agrees with me. You’re an idiot.”

“Charming.” Dresden rolled his eyes. “I thought you were the genteel one. This is why you don’t have a woman.”

“I’d contradict you but there’s a lady present.”

Regulus rubbed the side of his head then gestured to Stubble. “Adelaide, this is Sir Caleb Rathburn.”

Rathburn bowed with a flourish of his hand and a toothy grin. “A pleasure to finally meet you, my lady.”

“You know Estevan,” Regulus said. Estevan bowed. “This is Sir Jerrick Faras.” The dark-skinned man bowed with a smile. “And this charming individual,” Regulus gestured to Crooked Nose, “is Sir Perceval Williamson.”

Williamson gave a stiff half bow but smiled warmly. “Be gentle with the Captain, my lady.”

Adelaide cocked an eyebrow. “You’re worried I’ll hurt him?”

“No. But he’s been hurt enough.”

Regulus cleared his throat. “Have you been enjoying the tournament so far?”

“Oh, yes. I—”

A trumpet sounded, indicating that the competition would recommence. Adelaide adjusted her token on his arm. Not that it needed adjusting. She just needed the excuse to be close to him.

“Good luck,” she whispered. She headed back for her seat.

As Adelaide picked her way between spectators, she caught some of them staring. Others glanced her way furtively. She listened closer to the muddled cacophony of voices and latched onto snippets that seemed to be about her or Regulus.

“...matches Belanger’s dress.”

“Wasn’t he a mercenary?”

“...heard her mother’s a Khastallander freewoman. Not even noble.” Adelaide clenched her jaw.

“...no-good bastard.”

“I can’t imagine Lord Belanger approves.”

“I thought she was courting Nolan Carrick?”

---