Page 83 of Prince of Shadow and Ash

He rubbed Sieger’s neck as he checked him over, looking for any cuts or protruding bits of lance. The simple criniere protected Sieger’s shoulders and chest, the areas most susceptible to damage from broken lances. He had a couple small nicks on his lower legs, but nothing concerning.

The roar of the crowd provided a buzzing backdrop to his thoughts. He had to tell her, but the thought of losing her made his heart physically ache. Was that ridiculous? He hadn’t even known Adelaide long, yet... He felt like he had known her forever. Or like he had been waiting forever to know her.

Dresden sauntered over and stood on the opposite side of Sieger. He leaned across the saddle. “It should please you to know that Adelaide looked absolutely terrified for you.”

Regulus’ brow furrowed. “Why would that please me? I don’t want her terrified.”

“When you’re jousting? Yes, you do, numbskull.” Drez rolled his eyes. “She’s scared you’ll get hurt. It means she cares about you and what happens to you. The more terrified, the more she cares.”

“I, on the other hand,” said a smug voice behind him that he quickly recognized as Carrick’s, “sincerely hope you fall and break your neck.”

Regulus turned as Carrick’s page led his horse past, but Carrick paused.

“I’d rather hoped your neck would snap with that last hit, but I guess it wasn’t as hard a hit as I wanted it to be.”

“What exactly is your problem?” Dresden rounded Sieger’s flank.

Carrick looked down his nose at Dresden. “Your master and I are talking, Carasian.”

Regulus put himself between Drez and Carrick before Drez did anything stupid. “I hold no malice for you, Sir Carrick. I see no reason for this continued hostility.”

“Youhold no malice forme?” Carrick laughed. “Ah, but I have more than enough foryou. You’ve taken something I want, something I need. I won’t rest until she’s mine.”

Regulus’ hand curled into a fist. His jaw tensed. “Adelaide is notsomethingto be taken or owned. She’s a person who makes her own choices.”

“Then she’s made a profoundly stupid choice.” Carrick stepped closer. “She should be honored I want her. Flattered that someone of my quality would desire her, common Khastallander mother and all. And yet she settles for a nobody.” He sneered. “An illegitimate mutt turned mercenary who doesn’t deserve the title he shouldn’t even have.”

Regulus exhaled. If he could keep his temper when taunted by the sorcerer, he could do so when facing Carrick. Several nearby lords, knights and squires watched them out of the corner of their eyes. Not one said anything. Suddenly, Regulus latched onto something Carrick had said. “What do you mean, youneedher?”

“Doesn’t matter. I just want you to know the stakes. I have no intention of playing fair. If I were you, I’d bow out before anyone gets hurt.”

Regulus stepped forward, capitalizing on his height to look as menacing as possible. “Are you threatening Adelaide?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t hurther.” He glanced at Dresden, then looked back at Regulus and sneered. “I’m saying you should consider what you’re willing to lose to keep her.” He walked after his horse toward the arena.

“Did...did he just threaten me?” Dresden sputtered.

“I think it was a pretty generalized threat against me and anyone in my circle,” Regulus said grimly. “He’s insane.” All the same, he sent up a quick prayer to Etiros that Carrick wouldn’t act on his threats.

Drez gestured at the men in the area and muttered, “And no one cares.”

Regulus unseated his next opponent in the first pass, which the crowd greeted with exuberant cheers and some disgruntled boos. The next joust he won by five points. Then he faced Carrick.

His anger flared as he stared at Carrick down the list. Carrick gave him a smug smile before closing his visor. “I’d bow out before anyone gets hurt.”Should have heeded your own advice, Carrick.Sieger shifted beneath him, eager to charge. Regulus adjusted his grip on his lance and raised it above his head. Carrick did the same. Harold released the reins.

Wind whistled in the gaps in his armor. Sieger’s chest heaved as he raced down the list. Regulus brought the lance down, couching it in the crook of his arm. He aimed for Carrick’s heart. The lance slammed into Carrick’s chest, sending a shudder down his arm. Carrick’s lance hit Regulus’ helm but bounced off. Regulus’ lance bent and shattered, making the bones in his arm vibrate. Carrick flipped backward off his horse.

Under his helm, Regulus smiled.

He reached the end of the arena and wheeled around. Pages rushed to help Carrick to his feet, but he pushed them away and strode off the field—albeit with a slight limp. Regulus pulled off his helm and looked at Adelaide. Her wide smile accentuated her round cheeks. He would do anything for that dazzling smile. She nodded at him while she applauded. He looked at Carrick, exiting the gate at the end of the arena. Carrick looked back and held up a fist.

The message was clear. This meant war. Carrick’s feud was only getting started. Regulus’ spirits fell. What had he done?

Regulus’ last couple matches were close—he won by only one point in the semi-final, and was losing the final joust by three points until he unhorsed his opponent. But he won. He had to admit, he enjoyed the cheers. Between the thrill of the joust and the applause and Adelaide’s smiles meant for him alone, he felt like he could fly. The exhilaration of winning buried even worries about Carrick’s plans for revenge.

He rode Sieger to the middle of the arena and dismounted in front of Baron Carrick’s box. Servants carried in a narrow, tall wooden podium and a set of steep wooden steps. They placed the podium in front of Carrick’s box with the stairs behind it. Once atop the podium, Regulus removed his helm to cheering from the spectators.

Baron Carrick moved to the barrier at the end of his box, standing a couple arm’s lengths away. He raised his hands. The noise of the crowd hushed.

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