Page 13 of The Curse of Golden Blood
"Indeed. You should be weeping with gratitude, wishing to kiss my feet."
I hate him.
"I'd rather kiss a scorpion."
"Perhaps in time you shall." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Little dove."
I ground my teeth. He enjoyed taunting me, I realized. I doubted there were many opportunities for him to indulge in such childish behavior, given that he commanded armies and held such status and importance.
"Don't call me that," I told him firmly.
His lips twitched. "No, I think it's quite fitting. Small, soft, and remarkably foolish."
Small?I scoffed inwardly. I stood at eye-level with most men, but as my gaze trailed upwards, I had to acknowledge our height difference.
I narrowed my eyes. "If you plan to spend our time together trading insults, why did you choose to train me yourself?"
He circled around me, as though studying me from a new angle. "You shall discover that tonight."
Fine. I'll play his little game.
But he'll regret every moment of it.
four
Lesson Above
Zydar
Ialwayspreferredtotrain at night, beneath the silvery embrace of the moon. Under the harsh glare of the sun, my kind grew sluggish and weary. We thrived in the darkness, where our true nature could unfold without restraint.
Yet that was not the only reason I chose the hours between sunset and dawn. Nighttime offered privacy that daylight could never provide—a peaceful silence far more conducive to learning than the clatter of the practice yards.
When thunder rolled across the sky, heralding the start of our session, my gaze found the Vessel I was to train.
That stubborn girl stood in her simple gray robes, looking pale beneath the moon's glow. Her golden eyes, shadowed with exhaustion, remained locked on mine with the same defiance she'd shown in the courtyard.
She challenged me without words, as though her will alone could strike me down where I stood.
How refreshing.
I had worried that she wouldn’t show, giving me a reason to punish her once more, but it seemed like she was not a mindless creature who could be underestimated.
The training platform sat at the cliff’s edge, a wide obsidian disc marked with glowing sigils. As soon as I stepped on, it rose into the sky, held up by thick chains of lightning. There were no railings, no walls. Just open air and a long drop.
Wind howled around us, stripping warmth from stone and bone. It caught her pale hair, sending golden strands whipping across her face. Rain began to fall, cold droplets that turned the obsidian slick and treacherous.
Through it all, she stared directly at me. Unblinking. Her eyes met mine with undiluted rebellion.
It was fortunate for her that I found such traits admirable in a warrior. Grudgingly so, but admirable nonetheless.
Still, admiration was not respect. That would need to be earned.
"Welcome to your first lesson," I said, deliberately sliding my gaze away from her in a way that I knew was bound to irritate. "Most Vessels begin by channeling power through their Oath Mark. It allows your fragile mortal body to contain what would otherwise destroy you."
She folded her arms, watching me with narrowed eyes. "Sounds charming."
My gaze flicked toward her at last, slow and assessing, like I was deciding whether to correct a disobedient soldier or a child playing war.
