Fleuridian treats I missed more than breath. His arrival saved me from trying to explain something I didn’t know how to explain. As I beheld lemon-curd tarts, lavender cookies, fresh-baked breads with strawberry jam and dollops of cream, my mouth watered.
Ohhh. The other side of the tray offered savory options. Delicacies from Sevón, I’d bet. I couldn’t identify the different meats and sauces.
I selected the goodies I wanted. Meaning, I scooped up as many desserts as I could hold. Sweet first. Savory second.
The moment I bit into my bounty, my eyes rolled back. So good. I couldn’t remember sampling anything better, my taste buds suddenly alive with flavor.
“Did you lose your manners during your three-year absence?” My father eyed me with distaste. “Shall I send you back to the Temple to help you find them?”
My cheeks heated, all but blistering, and I swallowed the sugary treat I no longer wanted. A treat in my stomach like a lead ball. “I’m sorry, Fath—Your Majesty.” He was right. A princess should not shovel food into her mouth, especially in public.
Dior glanced between us before telling the king, “My dear sister was kind enough to select some treats for me, weren’t you, Ashleigh? A very noble deed, to be sure.” She claimed a handful of my cookies and spread them over her lap, mimicking me as if I were a shining example of grace and sophistication.
My father pursed his lips but said no more.
I met the princess’s heartfelt gaze and mouthed, Thank you.
She offered me a bright smile, one of shared secrets and comradery, and I vowed to be nicer to her for the rest of the day.
“I give you the future king of the avian,” the master called, drawing out a few select words. “Crown Prince Saxon Skylair.”
Deafening cheers resounded as Saxon stepped forward.
Just like that, I forgot everything else. The sight of him decked out in his war wear, loaded down with weapons...glorious. Such strength.
He tilted his chin proudly, his spine ramrod straight. Determination stamped every line of his arresting face. He wore a well-made breastplate, leaving every ridge of muscle in his arms on spectacular display. Two dark straps crisscrossed his chest, anchoring two short swords to his back, directly between his beautiful wings. How soft those feathers appeared, so at odds with the rest of him.
Black leathers clung to his powerful legs like a second skin, and a pair of steel-toed combat boots completed the look.
Awareness of him consumed me. Did he know I was here? Did he—
He lifted his gaze, meeting mine, and I trembled. Oh, yes. He knew. He’d probably known the second I’d arrived.
Sunlight haloed his body, and highlighted the furious gleam in his eyes—a furious gleam that told me I’d been wrong, that he hadn’t wanted me here. That gleam promised we would have a battle of our own just as soon as he finished here...
7
He fights and he bleeds,
but doesn’t find what he needs.
SAXON
Combatants pressed themselves against the outer edge of the coliseum’s walls, leaving the center unoccupied. We awaited the blare of a horn, our battlefield stretched before us.
The first wave of combat would begin in a matter of minutes. A battle to the death—a free-for-all until the master of ceremonies blasted the final horn. There would be no surrender. Not this time. Those left standing would advance to the second round.
The deaths were unnecessary. But, King Philipp’s tournament, King Philipp’s rules. I’d known he planned to eliminate any perceived threats to his reign; I just hadn’t realized he wanted so many to die.
The longer we waited, the more aggression charged the air, until currents of energy seemed to crackle. It was manna for someone like me. I breathed it in, letting it fill my lungs and infuse my cells.
I’d ordered my people to refrain from entering the tournament; I hadn’t wanted to harm or kill a fellow avian. I would do it if necessary, but I wouldn’t like it. I’d expected a few challengers to enter anyway, but none had.
Because they feared me? Or because they feared my mother?
I pressed my tongue to the roof of my mouth, incensed by the very idea of someone else doing my intimidating for me. But no matter. Today, I would begin to prove I was strong enough to rule the most ferocious army in Enchantia. One by one, I would take out the most skilled competitors in the tournament.
No mercy!
I only had to endure three weeks of public battles, then I could claim