Page 69 of The Stars are Dying

I wasn’t the only one under threat, but Rosalind didn’t seem at all fazed by Zathrian’s blade resting against her neck.

“I should have guessed cheap take-outs would be your style,” Zath snarled.

I could have sworn the hazel of Rose’s eyes flashed a shade lighter as she lowered her blade and turned toward Zathrian’s. The angry glare shivered over me, but I was merely a spectator to it.

“And what about me gave youthatimpression?”

Zathrian’s face tightened, in a position to swiftly end her life. “You seem like you’d do anything to win.”

“You are not one of the Selected, so remove that blade before I do.”

“I don’t think this is going to help either of us,” I grumbled, gesturing between them.

With gritted teeth Zathrian shifted the blade away, maintaining their stare down before backing up a long stride. He seemed to be debating whether or not to stay down here with us, until a low whistle drew our attention to the entrance.

“Sleeping with the competition won’t win you points, little Rose,” Draven said.

Just like that, I understood Rosalind’s emotions before were only playful compared to the cold anger that firmed her features in an instant.

While the mysterious one, Arwan, smirked at the comment, he didn’t look to us as he stemmed off from Draven and Enver. They strolled up to our training platform, eyes feasting on us as if we were their next meal. I spotted three other mentors on the viewing platform above us, and I wanted to flee from the sudden attention from all angles.

Zathrian fixed his defensive demeanorforRosalind rather than against her this time.

“I think you missed the turn into the parlor,” Rosalind said to them, crossing her arms.

Draven grinned with sly amusement, taking a huge bite out of an apple. “Speak for yourself. Wouldn’t want to damage that pretty face in a place like this.”

“Grab a sword and join me.” She brushed him off, backing up a few paces and preparing to take her stance. “Then if you want a second eye patch, try saying that again.”

I wondered if his huge build was from his previous occupation. Once, I’d overheard Hektor talk of late tradings with the Kingdom of Fesaris for coal. Perhaps he’d worked in the mines, and the loss of his sight in one eye was down to some terrible accident.

I still had so much to learn about the other kingdoms. Only from my brief study of the map I’d found in the book did I know Enver’s home kingdom of Astrinus was the highest in the North with the most mountains. And Arwan came from the west, Arania, separated by rivers from the neighboring kingdoms.

Draven’s one dark brown eye slipped to me, and I stiffened. The gleam he wore sized me up as feeble prey. “I’d rather test how far this one can bend before she breaks.”

Enver snickered. “I reckon we’ll be one Selected down before the first week is up.”

I didn’t know why I wanted Rosalind’s reaction as I flashed her a glance. Her look was knowing, as though she agreed with them on their observations, but with sympathy. My cheeks warmed with frustration. I couldn’t even pull off the guise.

“Swordplay isn’t my thing,” I said.

“Oh, come on. Play with us,” Draven sang, sharing in some laughter with Enver.

I didn’t react to it. If there was one thing I was brave against, it was mockery.

“Thank you for trying,” I mumbled when I was close enough to Rosalind.

She caught my arm, staring me down intently before her gaze flicked across the room. “You’ll be their prime target out there if you walk away and give them nothing.”

I looked to where she indicated. There were two options: a range for archery I was confident I could complete to a more than average degree, and another range beside it with targets of all sizes spaced at various distances around three walls like an open box. My attention lingered on the latter, but before I could decide, Nyte’s silvery voice echoed in my mind.

“You could take ten throws and prove yourself as competent as them. Or you could take one and silence them from thinking you’re anything less than perfect.”

One shot.

I slid my eyes to Draven, who tossed his apple in the air. “Are you going to give us a show?” he taunted, noticing I’d slipped one of the throwing daggers from my belt.

“If you want a show, I’ll need a participant,” I said, steadying my breaths.

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