When I turn away from her, she huffs, turning on her heel and stomping away. Her voice rings out as she shouts, “You both are impossible!”
Focusing on Torryn, I notice his longer black hair is tied up in a knot at the back of his head, shorter pieces falling around his face. When his eyes meet mine, they darken, sending a chill up my spine.
As I stomp to him, he crosses his arms across his chest, drawing attention to the tattoos entirely exposed for the first time. The sleeves are cut off his top, revealing that his Trial tattoos circle from his wrist, up past his bicep until it dips in toward his shoulder. There isn’t any doubt it’s the longest one I’ve seen.
“Is this what you want?” I ask, shoving Torryn backward. Fury fuels me as I press on, but he doesn’t budge an inch. “You want me to show you how I really feel,my lord.”
Locking his knees, Torryn holds me firm when I try to push him again. His eyes flicker to life, a fire burning in them as he smirks at me. He grabs my chin in his grip, not relenting as I try to tear my head away. Torryn leans in before speaking softly. “No. I want you to showthemhow you really feel.” He nods toward the arena, emphasizing who “them” is.
My breath lodges in my throat at his words, eyebrows knitting, as I search his face for a hint to his meaning. I’m about to ask him just that when we are interrupted.
My name echoes down the entrance to the waiting area, shouting at the top of his lungs—Evander. When he turns the corner, the worry and anxiety he feels aren’t hidden on his face. His eyes soften as they take me in, cataloging the distance between me and Torryn.
Looking at Torryn, I realize how close we stand as I push him away from me, knocking his hand from my face. He backs up, hands mockingly held in the air, as he smirks in satisfaction. As if our closeness is his own personal victory against Evander.
“Don’t you touch her,” Evander growls as he slams his fist into Torryn’s face without warning.
Blood flows from Torryn’s nose when his head recoils back, and I suppress the urge to go to him.
He is the enemy, Lysta.
“Like hell you’re battling him.” Evander pulls me to the side away from Torryn, glaring at him the entire time. “Over my dead body.”
“That can be arranged,” Torryn jibes from behind us.
I have to yank Evander back as he lunges toward Torryn again.
I shake my head at Evander, completely lost at the person slowly being revealed to me. Where is the collected man who has steadied me ever since arriving in the capital? He certainly isn’t around based on the two fights in the last week I’ve had to pull him away from.
A part of me warms at his protectiveness of me. But he needs to let me fight my own battles.
“He’s just getting even for how the judgment hearing went down,” Evander says, taking my upper arms in his hands.Almost as if he doesn’t realize he’s doing it, Evander rubs my arms, trying to soothe me.
ButI’mnot the one who needs to be soothed.
Evander continues. “He’s the one who lost out when the hearing went bad. Who knows what he is up to? Making a spectacle or getting revenge—it’s the last thing the Crowns need to see right now. Especially if we are going to convince Lord Gennady still.”
Why is he so against me fighting Torryn?
I shrug off his hands. “This isn’t your decision, Evander.” Leaning over, I pick up my sword, which lay propped up against the wall. “And I already talked to Lord Gennady.”
What happens between Torryn and me is just that—between us. He can’t stand in the way now when he isn’t the one hurt by Torryn.
Anger seems to deflate out of Evander, Torryn completely forgotten.
With wide eyes, he turns to me, body frozen. “You already have?”
“I got to the viewing booth early, and he was there. I planned on waiting for you, but then he beat me to it.”I can tell from the look in his eyes that he has a barrage of questions ready to hurl at me, but I silence him with a single hand. “I need you to stand back while I do this, because it’s what I need, Evander. We’ll talk about what happens next after, okay?”
My tone leaves no words for question. He steps back, and I take it as my signal to head out. Almost in the arena’s view, I brace myself before stepping out. The crowd cheers and boos as I step out onto the sandy pitch. Only surging more when Torryn comes to stand beside me.
War Hour will have its encore, after all.
Sword in hand,I follow Torryn out onto the sandy battlefield with false bravado fueling every step. As we emerge from the tunnel, the crowd roars at the sight of us, thrilled at the prospect of witnessing a fight unlike any other. My spine stiffens under the gaze of thousands. It doesn’t matter how loudly they cheer—they will celebrate just the same when I fail.
I’m sure they expect a swift, brutal fight. All I want is for it to not be embarrassingly quick.
Trials, let me get in a few swings first.