Page 126 of The Fae Girl 1

Indi rolled her eyes.

Nela frowned just enough to show her thoughts.

I sighed, not sure what to think. I didn’t want her to get hurt and that seemed like the only logical outcome of all of this. But she was acting like she didn’t care. In truth she was acting like a lovesick teenager. The pair of them were.

As I sat back I felt someone watching me. I turned meeting Fain’s eyes. He was sat in the Royal Box, notably far enough from his brother to not intrude, but he was practically touching distance from me. He inclined his head just a little and I gave him a small smile back.

“I don’t think that was a good thing.” Indi said quietly.

I turned to face her. “What do you mean?”

“Such a public display in defiance of his father.” She shook her head.

If I was honest I felt the same. My gut told me exactly how it would end no matter how we intervened, no matter what we did to try and prevent it.

Ridley rode to his position and both riders waited for the horn to sound. When they charged Mira gasped and covered her eyes before they even got close but the other rider aimed his lance better and Ridley went flying.

Mira stood shocked and let out a whimper before turning to me with pleading eyes. I knew what she wanted without asking.

“Go.” I said.

She ran out of the box, disappearing behind the silk and down the stairs.

“He won’t be injured. Not really.” Nela stated from where she stood with her arms leant over the edge.

“He looked like he took quite a hit.” I replied.

“He did but he was misbalanced by his own lance to begin with and that’s why he fell. He’ll be bruised but no more.”

“Let’s hope so.” Fain said to Nela. “I need him in one piece.”

Nela smirked like there was some inside joke between them.

Ridley got up gingerly, the marshals helping him off the main field. I saw Mira rushing to him and looked away feeling like I was intruding on something.

“How many people are actually injured from this sport?” I asked.

“Not as many as you’d think.” Fain replied.

“That’s not a number.” I stated.

“No.” He said with a small smile. “Do you understand any of it?”

I shrugged. “Not really, beyond one ramming the other with their lance.”

“That’s the gist but the skill is how the rider holds his lance and his aim.” He said.

“How so?”

“The secret is to dip your lance, only slightly though and aim for where the breastplate and shoulder plate meet. That way even if you don’t unseat your opponent you leave them off balance for the second round. And it also means you won’t actually hurt them beyond a few bruises and their pride.” Fain explained.

I frowned trying to visualise what he said.

“Look.” He said pointing to the two new opponents. “Watch the one on the right. He knows what he’s doing. See how he holds his lance and look where he aims.” He said pointing as the horn blew and the two riders galloped towards each other.

I watched as closely as I could, seeing the rider dip his lance just as Fain had said, and it struck his opponent who fell back but somehow remained on his horse.

“See?” He asked.

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