Page 34 of Of Blood & Bone: The Young Queen

“Good evening, Prince Ronan,” I reply. “I trust you’ve had a good day?”

“It's been most interesting,” he answers as his eyes fall upon my sword. “So, am I to take it you are coached in the art of swordsmanship, my Queen?”

My queen? Did he just refer to me as “my queen” as if we already have an understanding between us?

I smile. “I'm trained in the art of many blades, Prince Ronan.”

His fingers touch the spot on his neck where he previously felt the point of my blade. “Indeed, your skill with a dagger is impressive, but a sword is an altogether different kind of weapon to master.”

“And do you consider yourself a master swordsman, Prince Ronan?”

He smirks at the challenge in my voice. “I most certainly do, Queen Elinor, perhaps someday you shall witness my prowess with a blade.”

I smirk back. I don’t think his princely male pride is ever going to recover from the fact I managed to get the better of him that night on his terrace. “There’s no time like the present,” I suggest cheekily, responding to his inferred challenge.

He cocks his eyebrow and turns to Kes. “Commander, would you do me the honour of lending me your sword?”

Kes looks at me and I nod. She hands her sword over to the prince, who weighs it in his hands.

“It's a little light and on the short side for me, but it should be up to the task.”

“And what task is that?” I ask.

“Putting you at the end of my blade, well, at least my borrowed blade.”

I raise my sword to my face. “Best of luck with that,” I declare, before striking out with my sword.

His block is effortless, and as he steps back he cocks his left eyebrow and smiles. “So eager, my Queen. however, we haven’t yet agreed terms.”

“Terms?” I ask.

“Oh yes, terms,” he replies. “There’s no point in crossing swords if there isn’t to be a prize at the end of it.”

I halt my forward movement and steady my sword. “Prize?”

A broad grin stretches across his face and a mischievous glint lights up his eyes and I have an unsettling feeling I’m about to fall into a trap partly of my own making.

“Yes, a prize. If I win, my prize is you spending the night with me in my bed chamber.”

I feel my eyes widening in shock and I nearly drop my sword at his words. After all I’ve said to him about keeping things proper and following protocols, he either doesn’t understand what I’m telling him or he doesn’t care. Looking at him grinning at me from across the courtyard, I suspect it’s the latter. I’m about to tell him, yet again, why that can’t happen when a thought occurs to me and I sense an opportunity.

“Fine,” I declare. “I accept your terms, but I have one of my own. Should I best you then as my prize I demand yourelinquish your condition and allow the maidens of the Harvest to be the ones to harvest your seed.”

He starts to laugh and advances towards me. “I agree, but there’s just one thing I need to know.”

“And what’s that?”

“Which side of the bed do you sleep on?”

“Gah!” I exclaim in frustration as I let my sword fly in his direction.

He laughs and side steps out of my way.

I turn and find his blade perilously close to my face. “First strike wins,” he declares.

I quickly parry, sliding my sword along the length of his blade, and then I tuck myself in close to his body as I twirl around his back. I land at his feet and slice the air with an uppercut strike, but he’s guessed my plan and easily blocks my move.

I jump back out of his reach and raise my sword again. “May I point out that might be rather painful for you as you aren't wearing any armour.”

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