Silence stretched in the room. Duke Adrian Veyne sat staring at his retainer. No, his close friend of many years. Erik Everstand stared right back at him. They both had the same expression, one of complete bewilderment.

  “He was supposed to swear the oath, as we agreed.” Erik Everstand finally muttered. “He told me he’d accepted it. That’s the only reason I even brought him along. He told me he would.”

  Adrian stared at him. Erik Everstand was a man who didn’t care for things like intrigue. In other words, he always meant what he said. Adrian didn’t even remember the last time Erik had dealt in lies or half-truths. It was too early for Esra, but she had started coming out of her shell. He’d imagined it as two fortuitous coincidences all lining up.

  And then that boy had challenged his daughter to a duel. Not just any duel, either, but a duel following the proper form. For a proper duel, an opponent didn’t need to accept. They needed to know how to properly decline. Esra did not know how to do that.

  “Your son is trying rather hard to follow in his father’s footsteps,” Adrian muttered. Even he would have a hard time stopping this now, and if anyone ever found out? The consequences wouldn’t just be reputational. It would draw the eyes of the Inquisitors. They were always looking for an excuse.

  “You mean….?”

  “Aye.” Adrian sighed. “This is remarkably like how you swore your own loyalty, remember?”

  Erik Everstand’s eyes slowly widened. His face blanched. “That…was perhaps one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done in my life.”

  Adrian smiled slightly at that. Everstand had been a third son, ordered to serve the heir to a Ducal House that might not even be a Ducal House for very long. It didn’t help that Adrian’s reputation at the time had been…different from what it was now. Indeed, it seemed history did have an odd way of repeating itself.

  But Esra wasn’t him. Adrian might have been lazy and unmotivated, but he had been skilled. Esra wasn’t someone who could fight someone. It was Adrian’s own fault she was that way, but still.

  “I will discipline my son.” Erik muttered. “Or I will make him delay this. He didn’t specify a time and place.”

  That was the only solution Adrian saw as well. He wanted to accept it. Yet, he remembered how Esra had been on that day, when she’d confronted the maid. To think that his daughter was being abused under his own roof infuriated him, and yet Esra had dealt with it all on her own.

  At that moment, Esra Veyne had been remarkably like her mother. Perhaps that’s why Adrian hesitated. He’d seen a small spark of that woman, and he couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps it might grow into a raging inferno. If given just a little push.

  It was a good thing she wasn’t alive to beat him silly.

  I really, really regret this.

  “My Lady, you do know you are the one who provoked him, correct?” Anias asked, inspecting me. “I believe none of the table manners I showed you involved hurling water across a table.”

  I felt heat rising to my cheeks. There wasn’t much I could say to that.

  “Though, that was a good throw. You hardly wasted a drop.” Anias murmured as she fastened on my chest guard.

  “You can’t tell me he didn’t want this from the start.” I sighed. “I shouldn’t have fallen for it.”

  Anias nodded. “It’s good that you recognize that. You needn’t look so glum. Estovan tells me Lord Damian isn’t very practised yet.”

  “Indeed. My endless amounts of practice will surely shine through when I need it.” I rolled my eyes.

  Anias smiled, reaching down to fasten my padded bracers “The armor should keep you from getting seriously hurt.” There was worry in her voice, no matter how she tried to hide it.

  “Would that we had armor for my soon to be shattered pride too.”

  “Perhaps you can whittle him down with your witty comments?” Anias suggested. “But alas, that’s why we’re here in the first place.”

  “Point taken.”

  Anias stood back up. “You know My Lady, you have a rather absurd amount of mana. While you might not have the faintest idea of how to use it properly, a knife can cut no matter who wields it. Especially if it’s unexpected.”

  That sounded like genuine advice, flimsy as it was..

  “So, hit him when he doesn’t expect it. I can do that much. After all, it seems he doesn’t expect anything from me at all”

  “Just…be careful of his gift.” Anias warned. “I don’t think he will use it. If he does, surrender. There is never shame in running from an unwinnable fight.”

  Well, that was just lovely. Just as I was starting to feel a little confident too.

  “Don’t worry. If I see the stone move, I am going to run as fast as my legs are going to let me.”

  The door opened, and Anias and I both turned to see my father stride in. He looked angrier than I had ever seen him, with that anger dissipating as soon as he noticed me watching.

  He hunched over in front of me, inspecting my armor in the same way that Anias had. “I’m sorry, darling. I tried to get this called off. Unfortunately, a duel is something hard to reject.”

  That much I knew already. “It’s fine. I didn’t expect help."

  His face fell. Had I said something wrong? He turned instead to Anias. “Anias, you inspected her mana today, didn’t you? Does she….”

  Anias shook her head. “She does not have a gift. Or if she does have one, she has no idea how to use it. Maybe it simply hasn’t awakened yet.”

  He cursed under his breath, before reaching out and patting my shoulder in a gesture I assume was meant to be reassuring. It wasn’t.

  A manservant stepped into the armory. “M’lord, it’s time.”

  Off to the headsman’s axe then.

  It wasn’t like I knew just how many people worked at the manor, but I was pretty sure damn near all of them had shown up to watch this. They crowded around the sparring arena, standing so close together it was hard to see much of anything past them.

  When, exactly, had this become a public event?

  My father and Lord Erik were the only ones seated, the two of them sitting on two regal looking chairs it had taken half a dozen servants to bring out from the mansion.

  Damian waited patiently, standing a dozen feet away and adorned in a suit of wooden armor just like what I was wearing. He glanced around at all the people watching, not reacting at all.

  His gaze sharpened when he saw me stepping into the arena. It was tall, and I’d literally had to do a small ‘hop’ just to climb up.

  “You look ridiculous in that armor. Maybe I went a little too far. If you crawl on your hands and knees and say you’re sorry, we’ll call it even. How does that sound?”

  Heat flooded my face, but I still managed to keep my voice steady and sharp. “How about you come up with some better last words? I’d be embarrassed if those were mine.” It didn’t even make sense. It wasn’t like either of us were going to kill each other.

  Damian snarled anyway. Surprisingly, he didn’t charge at me. Instead, his gaze wandered over to my father and his.

  My father looked resigned. Lord Erik looked like he really wanted to pull his remaining hair out.

  My father’s voice boomed: “The rules for this friendly duel are simple. Make the other person submit. Use any means at your disposal to make that happen but do not use excessive force. This is a friendly competition.”

  Damian certainly didn’t look friendly right now.

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  One last weary glance in my direction, and then he shouted out. “Begin!”

  My opponent didn’t charge forward like I expected him to. Instead, Damian waited, tense.

  “What?”

  “Use your gift.” Damian demanded. “Use it so that I can crush it in front of everyone.”

  We both just continued to stare at each other.

  “You…you do have a gift, don’t you?” Damian’s voice sounded damn near hopeful, as if he couldn’t believe he was wasting his time with me if I didn’t even have a gift.

  This was something he should have figured out long before he’d started this farce.

  Anias had already given me a few rushed pointers. I closed my eyes, my mind drifting back to that moment when I’d first touched my mana. Mana coursed through my veins almost immediately. It was a sudden rush of power that almost threatened to lift me right off my feet.

  I opened my eyes. Everything looked more vivid. Every color was deeper, brighter. It was as simple as visualizing the mana inside me moving towards my eyes.

  A stinging pain came. I winced. Too much mana. Anias had warned me about that. I tried to visualize the flow again, trying to make it smaller. Everything went back to normal. Damn it. I stopped channeling mana.

  “That’s not a gift.” He finally commented, raising his arms in a stance I didn’t recognize.

  “Shut up and come at me already.”

  Damian did. He charged forward, the distance between us evaporating in five quick strides. His blow was aiming right for my head. I only just barely twisted my head away in time. It still managed to graze me.

  I stumbled back, right as another blow came, this one aimed for my gut.

  There was a meaty thump. I gasped. Heaved. Pain coursed up my stomach but it didn’t hurt nearly as much as I had thought it would. Bless the armor.

  “What the hell is that look supposed to mean?” Damian snarled.

  He took a step back, even as I swung my fist forward. I had never punched someone before, neither in this life nor in the last. There was no technique or skill behind the blow at all.

  Damian almost contemptuously stepped back, making me go off balance.

  He didn’t attack, when he very well could have.

  I swung again, no less clumsily this time. He took a step to the right. At least I didn’t almost fall over this time.

  “This is pathetic.” He hissed. “Fine. Hit me.” He stepped forward, raised his arms to the side. “Hit me and see what happens.”

  I tried my damnedest not to smile. My eyes closed. I focused on that flow again. It filled me, demanded itself be used. I took a step forward, swung my hips just like Anias had showed me, punched out.

  “What the-”

  Thud

  My hand felt like it might break. Damian staggered back, his eyes going wide.

  I closed the distance between us, more blows following the first. One landed on his side. The other aimed for the side of his head. He raised up an arm, blocking it but still skidding back from the force of the impact.

  There was a small distance between us again. I looked towards my hand. My fist was bleeding. It stung. My heart was pounding in my chest, loud enough to drown out the surprised mutters from all around me.

  That had been my surprise attack, one I’d hoped would be enough. I could hear murmurs all around us. I ignored them.

  “Damn it.” Damian grunted. “You don’t have any…any skill at all so why….”

  It wasn’t over yet.

  “Don’t trust every rumor you hear, brat.” I spat out. “If you are still standing, consider it a mercy.”

  Damian’s gaze fixed on me. For a moment, I thought he would actually buy it.

  He snorted, extended his hands out in front of him. The air grew heavier. The ground beneath his feet exploded, the earth itself rising to coat his hands until they were covered in hard rock.

  Fuck.

  “Congratulations. You made me use my Gift. For a Giftless like you, that’s quite a feat. I do hope you don’t come to regret it.”

  Damian charged forward. The only chance I had was to surprise him. I ran to meet him, already swinging. He hadn’t expected that, his own right arm had only just started rising. His left arm still managed to rise in time.

  Crack

  A shudder shot up my arm, extending through my entire body. I might as well have just punched a brick wall. The pain followed a second later.

  A mighty fist came and slammed into the side of my head. One moment I was standing, and the next I was on the floor.

  My vision swam and blurred. Pain shot up my arm as soon as I tried to move my hand. Broken? Fractured? Did it matter right now?

  A shadow fell across my face. My blurred vision showed me two of the bastards, and they both looked just as smug as the other.

  They leaned down, their blurred forms slowly solidifying back into one again. “Looks like you have an awful lot of mana. It’s wasted on you. You don’t even have a Gift, Giftless.”

  “Give up.” Damian said, lifting up my head with my hair. I winced. “Give up. I’d rather not beat up a girl who can’t fight back, but I will if I have to. So, give up.”

  I had lost. Anias’ words screamed in my air. I had promised her I’d run if this exact situation happened. Surrender wasn’t so bad. Pride was a small price. If only I could force the word past my throat.

  “No.” I hissed.

  He paused as if that was the absolute last thing he had expected to hear.

  “Don’t blame me for this then.”

  Damian flung me. I was soaring through the air, almost falling outside the arena entirely.

  I lay there. My head pounding. My hand broken.

  “Lord Veyne! Call this duel. Surely you can see that she’s in no condition to continue!” Damian’s voice, loud and proud.

  It would have been easy to just lie there. It wasn’t like anyone had actually expected me to do something. No matter what angle I approached this from, there was only one stupid thing I could do here. I did it anyway.

  Groaning, I rose, trying not to put any weight on my clearly injured hand. The fingers had swollen now, half of them were purple.

  Damian was facing away from me. Something made him turn. He stared.

  “You think I won’t actually hurt you just because this is a spar?” Damian’s words had an odd inflection to them

  “You talk more than I do.”

  His face twisted again. I waited for him to saunter over. I didn’t just charge forward this time. Instead, I waited and watched for the subtlest signs of movement. His hips twisted. I tried to react.

  The air left my lungs as I fell down to my knees, my hands clutching at my chest. I hadn’t even seen him punch.

  “Give. Up.” He said again, this time sounding much more annoyed than he had before. “Or would you prefer I keep beating on you. Perhaps I can’t permanently maim you, but I can definitely make you regret ever stepping in here with me. Don’t let it be said that the Second Son of House Everstand bullied a girl.”

  I stared at him. What the hell did he think this was so far?

  Something in his gaze shifted, as if he had just come to a realization that should have been obvious all along. He leaned down, his nose practically touching mine.

  “Ah. I see. Is this because I called you worthless?” He whispered just loud enough for only the two of us to hear.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know why you’re surprised. A noble brat who spends all day in her room. How could you be anything other than worthl-”

  My hand shot out, grabbing his side. I pulled him forward, using all the strength I had. There was a crack as I slammed my head into his face as hard as I could. He staggered back, cursing and spluttering. Damian covered his face with one hand, blood leaking past the gap in his fingers.

  My own body screamed at me.

  Nothing.

  All the pains, the aches, the bruises. They all…vanished. It felt like waking from a dream..

  My body was still unsteady. I rose on shaking feet, stepped forward. The world around me sharpened into a single point, and then it was just the two of us.

  “Don’t fuck with me!” Damian roared. Even his voice sounded muffled. He charged forward and swung at me with one of his gauntleted arms.

  I saw it this time. I saw everything.

  I saw every drop of sweat on his brow. I saw his eyes widen ever so slowly. There was a stinging behind my eyes. It vanished as soon as it came.

  His arm moved towards me painfully slowly. It seemed to glow faintly with a very faint yellow aura. The trajectory was obvious, and so I simply…stepped inside.

  There was a brief moment where Damian looked downright stunned, right before I punched him in the face. With my broken hand. His face was one of the few places not covered by the armor, and I’d already broken his nose.

  Damian let out a cry, and then he fell right on his ass. My legs moved forward and I fell on top of him.

  Thud

  One of his gauntleted arms slammed into my side. I fell right off of him.

  How strange. There was hardly any pain at all. I tried to rise again. Tried. Failed. My body wasn’t moving.

  Was I…dying? I didn’t remember what my first death had been like, but it couldn’t have been much different from this.

  Darkness clouded around the edges of my vision, blotting out everything else. Pale green light filtered through as concerned men looked down at me, their hands radiating with energy.

  Everything went dark.