Page 22 of Heart of Winter
Rune pointed behind him with his sword. “I dragged your cousin along. In a minute, I’m gonna put a sword in his hand, just watch.”
Against the far wall, sitting on a bench, furred cloak pulled tight around him, Oliver shook his head, eyes going wide. “No, no, he’s not. I’m onlywatching, Rune.” It sounded like he’d said that more than once while he’d been out here.
“Aw, but that’s no fun,” Rune complained.
Oliver, cheeks and the tip of his nose pink with cold, shook his head again, more firmly. “Not going to happen. No.Nope.”
“Oh,” Tessa said again, more quietly, as Rune turned and pleaded his case in earnest, holding out his own sword in offering. Oliver lifted a hand in protest, tried to look stern, but a smile cracked through. He’d smiled so seldom, lately, and the flash of teeth and the brightening of his eyes made him look his age, thirty, and smoothed the tension of premature stress lines from his brow.
“What?” Leif whispered beside her.
“Ollie,” she murmured. “It’s nice to see him smiling.”
~*~
When Oliver refused to be swayed, Leif agreed to spar with his brother, and Tessa went to sit on the bench beside her cousin. Hilda sat a discreet distance away, and Tessa was starting to think she didn’t miss Hannah staying behind at all.
She watched Leif shrug off his cloak and toss it onto another bench; his tunic stretched tight across his broad shoulders as he took a blunted practice sword down off the rack.
Rune kept moving, to keep his muscles warm, she knew from watching her brother’s training, once upon a time. He looked ready, eager, and despite the gleam of sweat on his brow, not at all tired from his earlier efforts.
“So,” Oliver said, and his tone had her glancing over, and finding his faux-innocent expression. “How was your tour?”
She fought to keep her face serene. “It was very nice.”
“Very nice.”
“Yes. Very.”
His lips twitched, once, before he forced them still, but his eyes danced. His tone was mild when he said, “How was the view?” His gaze cut not-so-subtly toward Leif, stretching his arms up over his ready, readying for the match.
“I liked the garden, even though it’s buried under snow.”
“Tess.”
“Ollie.”
A smirk finally broke loose across his face.
“Stop,” Tessa said, as he chuckled, and turned her now-hot face away.
With a mutual shout, the princes lunged toward one another, and the match began with the chime of steel on steel.
Tessa had never told anyone, because she’d worried it wouldn’t be seen as a ladylike trait, but she’d always enjoyed watching matches like these. The ringing of the blades coming together, the tricky footwork. The show of strength – and, yes, she could admit, theview: strong, skilled bodies pushed to their limit without life or death stakes at play. She felt a thrill build inside her, a flash and ripple of excitement, and didn’t try to keep from knitting her fingers together, and squeezing tight.
It became quickly apparent that Leif was stronger, but Rune was faster. Leif would deliver a devastating blow that had Rune wincing, and the steel screaming, but then Rune would whirl, and dodge, and dance back out of reach again. Their sounds of exertion echoed off the stone walls.
“Rune is too impatient,” Oliver said softly, after a while, and she imagined they were back in Drakewell, sitting in a window ledge together, watching John batter soldiers in the yard. Oliver had always had a keen eye for form, even if he never engaged in matches himself. “He knows what he ought to do, but he doesn’t follow through like he should. That was fine with those other two blockheads, but Leif is much stronger and more skilled than them.”
Tessa nodded. “He’s very quick, though.”
“Sometimes quick is enough,” he said, sagely, “but sometimes it isn’t.”
Leif dropped back, and seemed to lower his guard.
“Don’t fall for it,” Oliver whispered.
Rune grinned, and rushed in. A few moments later, with a ring and a clatter, Rune’s sword went flying.
