Page 51 of Vows of Sacrifice

I quickly spotted my husband. He wore no armour and was fighting with swords against three soldiers, two of whom I recognized immediately, as they had accompanied us on the journey to Osacan.

When he caught sight of me, he immediately stopped, and smiled contentedly as he discovered the two young servants at my side.

“My wife!” he exclaimed loudly.

I took it upon myself not to blush. Would I ever get used to the title of wife to this man? I really hoped so, even if I didn’t have a tenth of his charisma.

At once, a score of men turned their heads simultaneously in my direction—which was the intended purpose, I suppose, of such a maneuver on Dovah’s part. I paid attention to my posture, standing up straight to appear confident.

For some strange reason, I didn’t want to shame him in any way. Since childhood, I had quickly written off the idea of marriage. We lived in a world where a woman’s room for maneuvering was extremely limited, and even more so if she didn’t marry. I came to understand that without a husband, women were nothing. And in my mind, because of the demonic colour of my hair, I would end my days differently from my sisters. My father, then touched by my anguish, proposed that I unofficially assist him in the management of our country.

So, I hadn’t really paid much attention to my mother’s teachings to my sisters about the duties of a future wife, instead eager to assimilate everything I could learn in areas such as justice or finance. I suddenly realized that my mother and sisters, too, hadn’t imagined such a turn of events for me either. Should I be happy about it, or sad?

Alas, I didn’t have the answer to that question.

Dovah approached me with a feline gait, supple, full of confidence. All the women—myself included—were unanimous on this point: he was a very handsome man, if not the most handsome I’d seen so far. Dressed entirely in black, as usual, a colour that accentuated his dark aura, he embodied the virile and mysterious male in all his splendour.

“My lady, did you sleep well?” he inquired.

He’d asked in a neutral tone, but a moment in his obsidian gaze told me he genuinely wanted to know.

“Like a dormouse, I thank you. Our night swim did me a lot of good.”

From the way he smiled, I thought I’d said something strange, even though I had been careful not to let him know that his presence beside me in bed troubled me greatly.

“I’m glad. Come over here, I have a gift for you.”

A gift? I thought with surprise. I approached, suddenly curious. He motioned to one of his men, Cyrian. Cyrian handed him a protected object wrapped in a piece of tanned leather, which Dovah carefully removed.

It was a dagger. A magnificent silver dagger. The hilt was shaped like a dragon, its long, curved neck ending with its head, mouth open. The guard was formed by its outstretched wings. The sheath protecting the blade consisted of the dragon’s tail, which seemed to curl up to the tip. It was a stunning object.

“It’s a dagger to match my sword,” announced Dovah in his deep, almost velvety voice.

With the tip of my finger, I brushed against the sublime sheath. I shuddered, then looked up to discover Dovah staring at me with heightened attention.

“Her name is Cinder, and she’s now your weapon.”

Without thinking, I accepted his gift with both hands, my eyes plunged into those of my husband. He murmured a few words in the unfamiliar language Paivrin had used to unite us, and for a brief moment, his eyes glowed. Red, reptilian eyes, split by vertical pupils.

I shook my head mechanically. An illusion? Magic again? Perhaps not. Who was my husband really? This last question made my heart beat faster. He continued:

“As we’ve already discussed it and you seemed to agree, if you still wish, I can teach you dagger fighting.”

“Yes, I want to learn, Dovah!”

The answer flew from my lips without my having to think about it. And I felt it, perhaps truly for the first time, the desire to become stronger.

8

DOVAH

“When an enemy rushes towards you, and before he attacks, make a sudden gesture with the dagger in front of his face to destabilize him. Then, leap to the side and aim for his stomach or genitals.”

Ashana turned quickly towards me, her eyes rounded in astonishment. This kind of innocent reaction was absolutely and totally adorable. I was melting inside. It was terrible, because it made me want to continue on this path, just for the pleasure of seeing her react like that.

“His genitals?” she repeated.

I smile.

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