By the Sword - By Sara Flower Page 0,21

me with her feminine wiles. That girl ought to be married instead of wandering around town flirting like a mere commoner.”

Chrissa bristled.

“Right now we are talking about you. She will be punished accordingly,” said Ittonifer.

Knots formed within Chrissa’s belly.

I did nothing to encourage that boor, but how will I convince my father of that? He never listens to me!

“I expect professional conduct from my guards. You were my head guard. Instead of watching over me, you were out hunting her as though she were nothing more than a common wench. Worse still, you shamed the prince by being defeated by an enemy sword maiden on our own soil.”

The room fell silent.

Chrissa held her breath. Ittonifer had killed the last four of his senior palace guards. She despised Naeshi, but she did not want him to die. She had known the fool all of her life.

“I liked you, Naeshi. Really, I did. But you have more muscle than mind. Your late father would be very disappointed with you. If you weren’t still young, I would have killed you by now. Luckily for you, I can use your skills in our infantry.”

Thank the prince.

“Infantry?” spat Naeshi.

“Still, I feel that I have been much too easy on you. I wouldn’t want anyone to view me as… merciful. I have a reputation to keep.”

There was a hint of a smirk in his tone.

Chrissa’s heart raced. She knew what that voice meant. Their meeting would not end well. Her sadistic father was going to torture Naeshi.

She turned to run away from the pained cries that were soon to follow, but her feet were glued to the floor. She gritted her teeth and tried to lift her legs. She was stuck.

What is going on?

Her father’s castle was full of strange enchantments, but this one drove a chill down her spine.

Chrissa covered her ears with trembling hands in an attempt to blot out Naeshi’s shouts and groans. She hated her father. She hated that castle. She hated everything about her life.

The door flew open, leaving a startled Chrissa standing before her father. Ittonifer stood there, staring at her.

Chrissa looked away from his cold, black eyes and focused on the two guards that stood behind him.

They gripped Naeshi by the arms. A stream of blood flowed from where his left eye used to be, trickling down the side of his chiseled face and splattering around his feet.

Chrissa gasped and closed her eyes at the gory sight, but she would never forget it as long as she lived. Naeshi had endured that punishment because of her. There was no telling what he would try to do to pay her back.

She crossed her arms, trying in vain to stop shaking.

The guards dragged Naeshi down the hall. His remaining eye glared at her until they disappeared around the corner.

Chrissa shuddered. She looked down and moved her legs. The spell, wherever it had come from, had been lifted from her.

If only I knew who, or what, caused it.

She turned to flee back to her room, but ran into her father. His demoniacal glare seemed to pierce straight through her eyes and into her soul. She backed away from him, shaking.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

His angry voice echoed down the hallway.

“I was coming back from the library and overheard your conversation with Naeshi. I’m sorry.”

“From now on you are not to go there or anywhere after dark, understand?”

“Father, I…”

“Not another word. You have gotten yourself into enough trouble lately. Guard, take her back to her room. Do not unlock the door until morning.”

Another guard stepped out of the room then. Naeshi’s replacement, she assumed.

Chrissa opened her mouth to protest, but Ittonifer slammed his door in her face.

She stared at it for a moment. Her father could not even stand to look at her anymore. She knew that it was only a matter of time before he tossed her over to some man and then forgot about her completely. It was simply the way that things were done in Malinor. But she had thought things could be different for her.

Maybe they still can be. I can learn a few spells and then ask the prince for a favor.

“M’lady, we must go now,” said the guard at her side.

As Chrissa followed him down the dimly lit hallway, the ache in the pit of her stomach sharpened, creeping up into her chest. Chrissa knew that she had never been written on her father’s heart, but his indifference wounded her deeply.

Why am I so shocked?