Page 65 of A Vow of Embers

Once again, I had lost.

It all became too much.

Without another word I stood and walked out of the room.

Demaratus paced back and forth, watching me spar with Andronicus.

“Stupid girl, get your elbows away from your body! Keep your arms up! What are you doing?”

Andronicus’s sword glanced off my arm bracers. I could see that he was going to withdraw and apologize, as he hadn’t meant to cut things so close. But with Demaratus watching, I wasn’t going to let my regiment captain back down.

I pressed my attack forward, which Andronicus hadn’t been expecting. I could see it in his eyes, from the way he threw his shield up at the very last moment, nearly getting hit. I kept swinging my arm, not relenting.

“There, stupid girl! That’s it! Like that! Harder!”

With Andronicus’s reaction time compromised, I feinted to the right and then took out my dagger and brought it up to his throat with my left hand.

The maneuver worked. I’d beaten him.

“My point,” I said.

Demaratus came over, and although his face looked the same as always, I sensed that he was smiling on the inside.

“That is how it is done,” he said. “Exploit weaknesses. Find openings. Outthink your opponent. And if all that fails? Run.”

“Who is that?” a voice asked behind me.

I whirled around to see Alexandros watching me speak to Demaratus. My battle master didn’t see him, though.

“Next fight!” Demaratus yelled over his shoulder as he walked away.

“Demaratus.” I hadn’t meant to say that. I had intended to tell the prince to leave me alone. I’d had more than enough of him during my waking hours. I didn’t need him in my dreams.

“What does he do in Locris?” Given the expression on Alexandros’s face, it seemed that he found himself in the same position. That he didn’t want to speak to me but was compelled to do so. Like we were pieces on a game board being moved about by someone else’s whims.

“He’s the leader of the army. He also trained me.” I wanted to leave but it was as if someone had anchored my sandals to the dirt and I couldn’t lift them.

“Daemonian?”

“How do you know that?” I didn’t want this, to be talking to him.

“His armor.”

I had been so accustomed to Demaratus’s appearance that I’d forgotten his armor was different from what Locrians wore. It was just part of him.

“Trained by a Daemonian.” The prince shook his head. “Suddenly some things are starting to make a lot more sense. You write to him.”

“How do you know who I write to?” I meant to sound indignant. To accuse him of spying on me. But it was like all the anger was being leached out of me.

“You’re very clever with what you say, knowing your messages are intercepted before they’re passed along.”

“By you?”

“By several people in the palace, including me.” He paused for a second and looked down at his feet. Did he also want to leave but findhimself incapable of it? “The message you sent the night we went to the Golden Lamb. That was to Demaratus. Was it some kind of code?”

“I just wanted my parents to know that I was alive without betraying my background.” A completely unnecessary choice, as it turned out, given that the prince had always known who I was.

We both fell silent, watching the next match. My desire to leave was waning along with my fury.

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