Page 11 of Captive of the Stolen Empire

“This arm may be broken,” she said, her voice calm and even. “He needs to see a healer.”

I stood and gave a sharp whistle, commanding the attention of the soldiers nearby. A few of them stopped their drills and climbed over the simple wooden railing around the training area to come to our aid. “Take the boy to the infirmary.”

A soldier scooped up Theo off the ground with care, though the child had once again begun to whimper and squirm while clutching his wounded arm.

“Gabriel, go with him,” Ilya said. “Make sure he’s cared for.”

My lips thinned. The way she said it, you’d think she expected us to toss the boy in a room and forget about him rather than provide the appropriate care that such a child, especially one of the emperor’s guests, deserved.

“I’m going with my brother.” Titus pulled away from Elin and trailed after the others toward the castle.

“Back to your drills,” I ordered the remaining soldiers who had come to assist.

Short acknowledgements filled the air as they followed my command. Another figure, Fernand, hurried after the group heading toward the castle, probably to go see after the boy’s health as well. That left only Ilya and Elin, the latter of whom shifted uncomfortably and stared at the ground.

“You’ve become quite the general,” I said to Ilya. The others listened to her, followed her orders. If I had any doubt, the last few moments erased it.

She huffed and crossed her arms. “And why are you here? To punish them for sparring?”

I crossed mine as well, staring down the challenge in her brown eyes. “I was going to offer to train them.”

Her brows arched.

“Though I suppose that won’t be happening today.” Maybe not anytime soon if the boy’s arm was broken. A shame.

“You would train your enemy?” She bent and picked up the wooden sword off the ground, bringing the false blade up to tap against her palm.

“We’re all citizens of the empire.” Why couldn’t she see that? Things would be so much easier if she could. “Besides, better that than they continue to injure each other.”

“A fair point,” she acknowledged. Ilya turned the sword this way and that, adjusting her grip. “Would you spar with me?”

“Ilya…” Elin warned.

Something about watching her hold the training sword, especially with annoyance still written in her pressed lips and slightly scrunched brows, had a strange warmth building behind my ribs. “If you’re up for the challenge.” Let her duel me. Maybe she’d finally release some of that anger she held. I toed my boot under the edge of the other discarded wooden blade and kicked it up to my waiting hand.

“Show off,” Ilya grumbled.

The corner of my lips twitched at her comment. “Perhaps you’d like to change first?” I offered. Fighting in a dress wouldn’t be to her advantage, though I was curious to see what skills she possessed with a blade.

Ilya settled on her grip, adjusted her stance, and swung the sword through the air. “We can’t always choose what we’re wearing when battle finds us.” Another quick move had the tip pointed in my direction, her arm steady as she held the heavy thing aloft.

My chest swelled in admiration. A wise and true statement.

“But sometimes we do get to choose when to fight or to leverage a different approach.” She let the blade drop to her side and adopted a relaxed stance. Ilya shrugged before tossing it at my feet. “Perhaps another time.” She turned on her heel and called over one shoulder, “Come on, Elin.”

And what approach are you taking?I mused as she retreated back to the tree with Elin trailing after her. Anger was an interesting emotion. In a fool, it could spell their demise, but in someone as clever and influential as this woman appeared to be? That could be a dangerous thing indeed.

Chapter6

Ilya

My time in Zhine had been unproductive thus far. I intended to change that.

I trailed my fingertips along the empty stone wall in one of the many hallways within the emperor’s maze of a castle. Casual, bored, unassuming. Or so I pretended to be as the guards passed by, chatting with one another and barely giving me a passing glance.

My heart raced much faster than my slow walk down the hall. A soft breeze carried the last whispers of voices retreating behind me as the guards turned the corner, leaving the short hallway empty if only for a few moments.

All week I’d walked this way, letting them get used to my presence. This pair left their post near the off-limits door early, eager to get to dinner before their fellow guards could take the best morsels. At least, that’s what they complained about often enough.

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