Page 44 of Prince of Night and Storm
I think I—I think I'd miss him?
“Oblige me.” He lunges, feinting with a thrust of his sword, and I parry, setting my jaw. “A little slow, halfling mud.” He begins stalking me in a circle.
Maybe not.
I keep him in my line of sight. He hasn't bothered with armor, which convinces me the Prince wears his purely for show because he understands exactly how devastating he looks. If only he wasn’t. . .everything else, including a murderer.
“Your insults need work, Barry boy.”
“My insults can be improved over your grave.”
“You sure about that?” I smirk to get him to do somethingbesides spout poetry at me, and unleash a bit more of my speed. “Tell me more about my eyes.”
Baroun darts forward in a flash of movement, catching me off balance before we engage in a full-out flurry of blows. His expression settles into a faint frown and I grin, recognizing his irritation.
He spins and for a second our shoulders almost touch. Long enough for him to whisper, “Where is Embriel, Aerinne? Where is the missing son of the Prince?”
It startles me and his sword finds its mark. “Fuck!” Not fatal, but hurts like hell.
I kick his knee out from beneath him, my racing heart no longer due to the battle.
“Where is Danon?” I snarl.
His leg buckles and he goes down, spinning away as I whip my sabre down in a whistling arc, missing him by a breath.
“Why don't you go first, Faronne. Or perhaps I already know.”
I dart back, giving us both a few breaths to re-strategize. “What do you think you know?”
Montague investigated after that ambush, but no one witnessed his death and when I'd retrieved his body, his people had already been routed from the wreckage of the target.
It’s partly why I believe his arrival unplanned and in stealth—why else an absence of personal guard? No one planned for his presence. I still don't know why he'd been there, and never will.
“Are you paying attention, Aerinne?” Baroun springs to his feet and circles to my left. “A swift defeat is no sport; I have my pride.”
I pivot with him and press my attack, but he's fast, staying just outside my reach.
Damn. I need to reserve energy and he's toying with me, drawing this out. Renaud and Barounmayhave planned to wear me out in a duel before I faced the Prince but I doubt they’d offer a halfling infant the respect of actual planning. Still, they underestimate my abilities, which still suits me fine.
“Still talking nonsense, Barry. Is that all you are? Pretty words and pixie dust?”
His expression darkens. He feints again and this time I'm ready for his counterattack.
I catch his blade on my dagger, knocking it aside with a clang. As he recovers his balance, I bring my sabre around in a wide arc and catch him on the shoulder.
He staggers backward a pace, snarling. “Se Eld al etlehar!”?1
I tsk. “Manners.”
I press my advantage, stepping forward and slashing again, frustrated. My Skill sparks as my blade unerringly finds his?—
Bright pain.
I cry out, my blade knocked from my hand at the last second, and release my power, stunned.
“I prefer my cousin live,Malisse ni,”?2 the Prince says. “He will be useful to us, and I admit to the folly of affection, sa imra eld'vasha ni tala'alum la anfa.”?3
Baroun frowns at him. “Afa sovva tala'fin anfe, Raniel.”?4
