Page 73 of Crown of Darkness
I sigh. More unfortunate news.
“Rest,” Thiago presses. “Curses are twisted things. It will take time to undo, much like your own memories. I’ll see you at the end of the week. I need to check in at the border. With Eris and Baylor out of action, the others sometimes need a little more watching.”
I spend the afternoon lolling in bed, and wake the next day with the need todosomething.
With strict instructions that I’m not allowed to light so much as a candle, I head to the drilling yard, where Finn will put me through my paces in Thiago’s absence.
Every woman in the castle lets their eyes linger on Finn. He’s six-and-a-half feet of lithe strength and pure arrogance, with cheekbones that could cut like a knife, eyes the color of an alpine lake, and the kind of smile that makes even my heart skip a beat—even though I’m promised to another. He’s justthatpretty. Long dark hair is bound back from his face in braids, and there’s a faint golden tattoo just above the center of his brows in the shape of a flame.
“Can’t rest?” he calls, stringing a bow.
I shake my head ruefully. “Please tell me that’s for me.”
He hands it over, then kicks the quiver up into his hands with some kind of graceful hopping motion that would probably see me flat on my face if I tried to emulate it. “For my lady fair,” he says, handing over an arrow. “It’s been a while since we’ve trained together.”
It’s frustrating to be told you used to do something with someone, only to have no memories of it. “Did we?”
He clucks under his tongue. “How could you forget a male like me?”
“Well, considering I had no idea I was married to Thiago, surely I can be forgiven for not rememberingyou?”
He sighs. “Unremarkable. Unkissable. Unmemorable. I swear the three of you ladies are trying to give my pride a mortal blow.”
I nock the arrow and face the target set up at the far end of the bailey. “If I thought your sense of pride was in any danger, I’d beg forgiveness, but you seem to be doing an immeasurable job of supporting it.”
“I can’t help that I’m dangerously good-looking, ridiculously intelligent, and can steal a laugh from even the coldest of hearts. Are you going to shoot the target? Or merely glare at it?”
I stare along the arrow and send it flying. It feels good to be doing something physical, even though my shot’s slightly off center.
“Have you heard from Thiago?” I ask as he takes the bow.
Finn puts an arrow through the center of the target with ease. “All is well on the western front. There’s a line of red and gold as far as the eye can see, but your mother’s forces seem to be digging in deep. They’re not pushing forward, but there’s every sign they don’t intend to lose ground.”
Finn fills me in on the situation at the border as we pass the bow back and forth. He manages to hit the dead of center ten out of ten times, until I finally concede.
“Do you ever miss?”
Taking one last arrow, he looks me in the eyes and shoots blind.
Dead center.
“With a bow? No. With a blade?” A faint shrug. “The only time anyone beats me, it’s Eris. Baylor keeps me on my toes too, but I can defeat him.”
“And Thiago?”
This time his smile is bright. “Once. I got the drop on him once, and I’ve never let him forget it. He’s the only one who can match Eris, but I’ve never beaten her. Not yet.”
“You’re good,” I say, examining the target again.
“You should see me when I have a blindfold on. Or on the back of a horse.”
“Let me guess…,” I drawl as we head toward the target to fetch our arrows. “You spend almost as much time practicing with a bow as you do staring in the mirror?”
He claps a hand to his chest as I wrench an arrow from the target. “Straight through the heart, Princess. And while I spend the same time in the training yard as anyone else, I don’t live for it the way Eris does.” He pauses. “It’s my Sylvaren blood that gives me the advantage.”
“You’re Sylvaren?” I’d thought his ears were slightly tapered at the top.
More so than most of the fae.
