Mixed emotions swirl inside me as I gaze at the man kneeling before me. That was a surprise, considering what I’ve learned about his mindset during the Battle of Wills. More than he thinks I have, I’d wager. He fought hard during the Battle; I was expecting every step after it would be just as much a fight, since the chances are he has a high enough Willpower to avoid the mind-bending effects that the Bond has on non-humans. But apparently my prediction was wrong.

  And there’s a malicious part of me that gains satisfaction at seeing him brought so low. The abuser has become the victim – or at least, would be such if I was inclined to become an abuser myself. But I don’t want to go down that route.

  “Stand up,” I order him flatly and he obediently obeys, his eyes flashing to look at me briefly before redirecting themselves downwards. The look would be unreadable if I didn’t have a direct connection to his emotions – uncertainty, apprehension, shame, resignation…. It’s a cornucopia of unpleasantness that I don’t want infecting me. I squeeze the Bond almost shut so the emotional overflow becomes but a shadow of what it had been.

  I glance beyond him at his father who glares at me, but doesn’t make any sort of move, not even to speak. He seems furious, but there’s pain in his eyes. From what little I was able to observe, Lord Fell cares for his son and not just his heir. It must be difficult seeing him brought low like this. Because if I’ve learned anything in the last few minutes, it’s that Valence considers being Bound to me a shame and humiliation beyond all others.

  It’s not terribly flattering. But, we are all products of our upbringing, Valence as much as I am.

  With that in mind, I find that I have little sympathy for Lord Fell. While I recognise his pain, this duel is his fault twice over – for raising Valence to believe that slaves aren’t people, and for playing along with Torrent. The sense I got of Valence in our Battle was that he is, at heart, a dutiful son and heir. Angry he might have been, but if his father had forbidden him from declaring a duel, I’m confident he wouldn’t have.

  But glaring back at Lord Fell won’t solve anything, so instead I glance at the other nobles to see how my actions have been taken by them.

  At some point during our Battle of Wills, the barrier around the arena was removed. Now, the murmur of the audience floats around me and their expressions are clear of the blurring which had been present. Some are fascinated, entertained. As if they’re at a theatre performance instead of a duel. Others are apprehensive, gazing between me and Heir Fell as if I’m a feral beast on the verge of ripping his throat out. Clearly Valence isn’t the only one to consider being Bound to me as the worst possible outcome for him.

  I’ve made the point Nicholas convinced me to make – I’ve proven that I can follow in the family’s tradition. That if someone challenges me to an honour duel, they’d better be ready to face me in a battle for their souls right after. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to play to their expectations – or do exactly what Nicholas wants me to do.

  The official speaks again, his voice rising above the conversational murmur.

  “Heir Titanbend, Heir Fell, as you have concluded your battle, can you confirm the outcome, please?”

  I see Valence swallow, shame pulsing through, strong enough for me to feel even with the narrowness of our Bond at present.

  “I lost,” he murmurs hoarsely, then clears his throat and speaks more loudly. “Heir Titanbend was successful. I am…Soulbound.” When the official looks to me for my own confirmation, I just nod sharply at him, seeing no need to repeat the same words.

  The murmur turns into more of a roar as the nobles each start talking to their neighbours, perhaps discussing the consequences of this. I see Lord Fell’s expression draw tighter.

  “Son…” he starts, his voice full of grief. Then he redirects his attention to me, his hands balling into fists which he then forcibly loosens. “Heir Titanbend,” he starts, his voice strained but polite. “Might I invite you to share a cup of tila with me? Perhaps we could discuss what our House might give you in recompense for releasing the Soulbond of my heir?”

  Beside me, Nicholas snorts.

  “Your House already owes us recompense. The Bond is a consequence for losing a duel in which your heir was the instigator. It is not recompense for calling it in the first place.” Lord Fell’s expression cracks.

  “Your heir has already taken my son, my heir – what more can you have of us?!”

  I put up my hand to stop them, only remembering at the last moment not to offer a flat palm to either of them. Instead, I ball my hand into a fist while I speak.

  “Stop. This is pointless,” I tell them flatly, then turn to Valence’s father. “Lord Fell, I am willing to take tila with you to discuss recompense. However, I suggest we discuss this when I am done in the arena.”

  Lord Fell’s brow furrows slightly, and I feel a strong pulse of heightened apprehension flow from Valence. As if struck by an awful thought, I see the lord abruptly blanch and stumble towards me, his expression twisted with desperation.

  “Lord Markus!” he cries, reaching out with one hand beseechingly. “You cannot mean to take Valence’s life here and now!”

  “It would be his right,” Nicholas snaps at him, not helping with the situation.

  I just stare at Lord Fell in bafflement.

  “What? No. Where did you get that idea from?”

  Lord Fell regains some of his colour, but still looks highly confused.

  “But…the duel is over. What else would you wish to do?”

  Really? I shake my head in frustration.

  “Just give me a moment, please. I need to speak to Valence.”

  “Markus?” Nicholas asks me warily. I look at him briefly.

  “I’m playing by my rules – not theirs,” I tell him simply but firmly. And not yours, I finish it silently to myself. I suspect that he interprets my thought anyway based on the annoyed understanding that flickers over his face.

  “I see.” It’s not approval, in fact it’s very close to disapproval, but he doesn’t try to stop me. That’s enough.

  “Valence, look at me,” I order the man quietly but firmly. He slowly lifts his eyes from the sand to meet mine. I release the choking grip I have on his Bond, allowing his emotions to filter back through – his expressions are unreadable enough that I need the cheat code.

  I have a decision to make, I tell him silently, the rest of our companions bearing witness. Which way it goes depends on you – and how capable you are of change.

  A decision, my lord…master? he asks, taking to mental speech with surprising alacrity. I feel the difficulty with which he uses what he feels is my proper title.

  To keep our Bond or to release it.

  I feel burgeoning hope blossoming within Valence.

  …If my father offers you sufficient recompense? he asks uncertainly. I can practically hear his thoughts – he’s worried that I will ask too much of his House. If so, I sense that he’s prepared to reject it – to sacrifice himself for his family.

  Honestly, between his reticence to kill me in the battle, his acceptance of his loss, and his willingness to do what’s necessary for his House, I’m starting to feel some begrudging respect for this guy. If he could only overcome his complete dismissal of those he believes are below him – which is most people – we might even get along. But he comes by the attitude honestly.

  I’m not interested in that, I dismiss. Confusion bubbles within Valence. There is something else which is more important for me. The collared – and your treatment of them.

  Slaves? What relevance do they have here? Valence asks, his confusion increasing.

  Don’t pretend to me that you didn’t notice the similarities between you and them, I tell him pointedly – his despair at the end of our Battle of Wills had been rather loud and clear in its source. I feel the words hit home like arrows.

  How did you– He stops himself and grits his teeth, lowering his gaze once more to the sand. I did. Master.

  Do you feel any less of a person now you’re Bound to me? Like you feel any less sharply, or that you wouldn’t suffer just as badly as before?

  …No? he answers hesitantly, clearly unsure about what I’m getting at here, but with fear curling inside him about what I could mean.

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  The collared, the slaves, are people too, I tell him simply. And I expect you to treat them that way. Do you think you can do that without our Bond to keep your actions in line?

  I sense Valence thinking deeply about the question. Just as well – if he’d given me a glib agreement, I would choose to continue our Bond despite my personal preferences. I’m tempted regardless – Nicholas is right that he would be useful. He’s a skilled swordsman, and could be invaluable in helping me navigate the other nobles. And it’s not as if I don’t have just cause since he’s the one who attacked me.

  But, ultimately, my choice to consider freeing him is more about me than him. My Bound are my friends, my family. It was bad enough when I had various discontented Pathwalkers as part of the network – I’m reluctant to start that again when I know I’m not going to be leaving at the end of the year. I don’t want my Bond to be considered a punishment – nor to be Bound to someone who considers it such. Nor do I want to inflict them on everyone else in the pack.

  It would be different if he were likely to continue to be a threat to me or mine – ultimately, the reason behind me Binding several of the Pathwalkers in the other world. In this case, though, his answers on that front in our Battle of Wills were satisfactory. Keeping him Bound would give me more certainty for sure, but he’s not enough of an enemy to justify it – without Torrent’s manipulations, this whole situation would have never happened.

  The only other thing that I have against Valence personally is the reason for our original confrontation – the way he treats slaves. Since he’s given me the excuse, I’m willing to maintain the Bond just to work on that mindset and protect those who he will abuse if he continues the way he has been. But if he can change without the Bond, I’d honestly prefer it.

  Besides, I can’t Bind every noble, so I need to figure out how to convince people without resorting to it. Given the intense wave of emotion I felt from him earlier, I’m hopeful that this experience may have impacted him enough to make a difference. And if he can change, maybe he can change others around him in a way that he wouldn’t be able to if he’s Bound to me.

  I can try, he offers finally, his mental voice hesitating and apprehensive. He has chosen honesty over something he’s more confident will push my decision in his favour. He’s smart enough to realise that that’s more likely to make me decide against him.

  “Valence,” I say out loud. I feel the attention of both Nicholas and Lord Fell sharpen upon me.

  “Yes, my lord?” Valence replies apprehensively. I feel the agonised frustration from across the Bond as I don’t immediately reveal which way I have decided. I’m petty enough to let him stew just a little longer – he’s earned that much at least. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the nobles closest to the arena pause in their movements to leave – something is about to happen and they’ve realised it.

  “You fought well, with honour,” I tell Valence calmly. The quiet is spreading – more nobles are realising that the show isn’t over. “You didn’t kill me when I was on the ground; you didn’t even try. I don’t doubt that…other lords would have preferred you to have done so.” I look pointedly up at the arena seating to where Torrent’s blue robes embroidered with silver are distinguishable from those around. He sneers as he meets my eyes. Those around who notice the direction of my gaze follow it and a low murmur picks up. I might need to provide an ‘acceptable’ reason for what I’m about to do, but at least I can use it to get a dig into my true enemy.

  Returning my gaze back to Valence, I see him wincing minutely.

  “They…he would have,” Valence agrees warily as I look at him expectantly. I nod.

  “You should not have called for the duel in the first place – I believe you recognise that now.”

  “I do,” Valence agrees, fervently this time. And I feel the crash of true regret behind that agreement. “And I apologise profusely for the insult I gave you in doing so.”

  “Then, in light of the honour and mercy you have shown me today, I will extend a little mercy of my own and accept a different form of recompense.” Hope grows uncontrollably within Valence.

  “Lord Markus?” he breathes even as I hear his father take in a sharp breath beyond him.

  I beckon him and he steps closer silently.

  One last act of mercy before I release you, I tell him over our Bond, setting my hand on the skin of his neck. Easily working within the body of my Bound, I draw out and reabsorb the poison I could tell was still wreaking havoc on his system – it’s performed beyond my expectations. I feel his stunned relief as I heal the damage there.

  Thank you, he murmurs over the Bond, his tone more astounded than grateful. But…why? And I can tell he’s not asking about why I healed him.

  Because to take one of my Bonds means joining a family, a fellowship. A group who guides, supports, and strengthens each other. And, frankly, I don’t think you have earned that, I say simply, though I feel the words hit the target, cutting through the blanket of self-pity he’s wrapped around himself.

  I follow up after a moment with a warning. But, Bond or no Bond, if I hear, see, or otherwise come to an awareness about you mistreating those who can’t fight back, and you’ll face me once more. And this time, I won’t hold back. Though I don’t give him any details, I share my utter confidence that, with everything at my fingertips, I could have won that duel in seconds. I feel him wince as he senses my sincerity.

  And then I pull out of the Bond as much as I can in preparation.

  “I release you, Heir Fell,” I tell him simply, matching my actions to words. The Bond between us shatters under my touch and I feel a brief twinge of pain and moment of loss before it dulls – our Bond wasn’t in place long enough to cause more than that for either of us. “Make better choices in the future.” Valence’s eyes flicker up to mine and I see that he’s taken the warning in the spirit that it was meant.

  Even as I hear the official announcing the new events with surprise in his voice, as if anyone is likely to have missed this, Valence drops to kneel before me again. This time it’s only to a single knee.

  “Thank you Heir Titanbend – I swear on my family name that you won’t regret your mercy.”

  “I’d better not,” I warn, but lightly this time. Valence pushes himself to his feet and dips his head briefly to me.

  “Lord Markus, I repeat the offer of my father to take a cup of tila with us at the eleventh candlemark tomorrow to discuss the recompense my House owes you. If that time is not suitable, we will rearrange our schedule to accommodate you.”

  “Very well,” I agree. That gives me time to speak to Nicholas about what that recompense should be.

  Valence smiles slightly, echoes in his eyes of relief and the elation that comes with escaping an awful fate.

  “Then, with your permission, we shall withdraw. We will see you at the ball tonight, Lord Markus, Lord Titanbend?”

  “Surely,” Nicholas drawls, seeming as uninterested as I am in continuing the conversation beyond the necessary formalities.

  After a few more pleasantries, and a deeper than customary bow of farewell from both Valence and his father, we’re alone in the middle of the arena – though with all the nobles around us, that doesn’t mean much.

  I raise an eyebrow at Nicholas, one of my hands finding it into Bastet’s fur even as Lathani demands petting by leaning over my shoulder.

  “Shall we get out of here?”

  Nicholas nods.

  “Certainly.”

  We head out of the arena. I do take a moment to send a glance around the nobles still gathered – some have left now that the action is clearly over, but most are still present, probably gossiping about what’s just happened. My eyes land briefly on Lord Torrent – if looks could kill, I would have dropped dead on the spot. Not unexpected, I suppose – if his intentions were to see me dead, maimed, or proven as incompetent, his plans have rather backfired. Certainly, the looks I see aimed at me from the other nobles are far more speculative and wary than they were previously.

  As soon as we leave the arena, I feel a Seal descending around me.

  “Why did you release him?” Nicholas demands. Clearly it’s been a question that’s been warring to come out for a while. But even if Seal doesn’t allow sound out of its confines, Nicholas’ version doesn’t block vision – there’s always the possibility of someone reading our conversation on our lips. “He would have made a good ally.”

  “He would have made a good slave,” I correct pointedly. “He wasn’t exactly willing about it prior to the Bond.” Nicholas waves the distinction away.

  “Whatever you wish to call it. Either way, you had complete justification and every reason in the world to keep the Bond. Why didn’t you?”

  “Because using my Bond as pure punishment is just not me,” I tell him simply. “Anyway, he was a disposable pawn used to advance the agenda of a far more powerful lord who would prefer to operate from the shadows. Caught between two Great Houses, you can’t say that he had much choice about the matter.”

  “That’s all true, but he did challenge you. He could have chosen to come to us with the information, but instead he chose to fight you; injured you. Had he won, he would have claimed recompense from our House whether it was his idea or not. Why should he not suffer the consequences of his choices?”

  “We’re going to meet to discuss recompense, aren’t we? Let those be the consequences,” I insist firmly. “I exercised my right to engage in the Battle of Wills because I accepted your point earlier about making a demonstration of my power. But that’s not a good enough reason to keep Valence Bound. I’ve given him a warning – he knows what will happen if he makes poor choices in the future.”

  “Having released him now, you can’t reBind him without another honour duel,” Nicholas warns. I shrug.

  “I’ll figure it out,” I say confidently. If the last year has taught me anything, it’s that there’s always a way – though not always one I want to journey down. “Anyway, technically, I suppose it’s possible that I never released him now – if I reBind him, who can say for sure that I hadn’t just told Valence to pretend to not be Bound?”

  Nicholas’ face freezes, then begrudging respect enters his eyes.

  “Such a claim would make you appear like a dishonourable schemer,” he cautions, though I don’t get the feeling that he entirely disapproves.

  “Well, that’s only one way of dealing with it. There are many ways to skin a cat.” The confusion on Nicholas’ face indicates that the expression might not have translated perfectly.

  He evidently doesn’t decide to press the matter as his mouth settles into a grim line and he takes the conversation in another direction.

  “I am not sure that it was wise to so clearly call Torrent out.”

  “Valence – Heir Fell – was clear: it was Torrent behind all of this.”

  “And the confirmation is useful, but being so blatant about it is, I fear, a misstep. He is a prideful and arrogant man – being called out so obviously will be taken as an affront.”

  “Corruption thrives in the shadows,” I point out with some disapproval.

  “As do noble politics,” Nicholas points out, just as critically. “We could have gained much more out of the knowledge that Torrent is behind it than we will achieve from your accusation.” I grimace and look away, disliking the reminder of just where I am and what role I’ve signed up to.

  Nicholas sighs. “Well, what’s done is done,” he philosophises. “Let us hope that the consequences of your actions are to our liking more than those of our enemies. At least you gave a fairly strong, if inexperienced performance in both arenas.” He gives me a side-eye. “You do realise that Mathis, Laeman, and Regan were all present at the fight, watching from the commoners’ section?”

  I groan, realising that Mathis saw the debacle that was me losing my spear more than once.

  Nicholas’ gaze sparkles with a little schadenfreude at my realisation. Mathis is going to kill me in our next training session. But if I’m honest with myself, I’ll deserve it – though I won the fight, it certainly wasn’t because of my inspired spearmanship.

  “Alright, let’s get this over with,” I sigh.

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