Page 64 of The Rose in the Shadows

“Ew,” Lorelai groaned as she strode next to where I huffed by the pool of drinking water. “There’s not enough gold in the kingdom to get me to go on daily runs.”

I suppressed a laugh as I glanced at her, and Rankor sighed dramatically in disgust.

“You can’t wear that!”

While most people wore simple training garments of thick trousers and form-fitting shirts, Lorelai wore a rose-colored dress, cut at her mid-thighs. Her fiery red hair had been expertly twisted and knotted into an elaborate braid, giving her a fierce and still feminine mohawk-style updo. Even her shoes, the same leather boots we all wore, were recently shined. She chuckled as a mischievous smile danced on her lips.

“I’m only here because Clayton insists.”

“We’ve been doing this for years, Lori,” Rankor whined. “Maybe for once you could be a good sport.”

She only shrugged half-heartedly and filled a glass with water as my eyes bounced between them.

“Years?” I asked.

“Since we were kids.” Lorelai nodded. “Clayton had to train every day growing up before his trials, and at first, we just came because he was here. But then Kent and Rankor were tabbed for the military, and Iris was recruited as a spy. So, training became required for them all, and Clay refused to let me sit out.”

Rankor rolled his eyes and launched into a rant about the importance of physical fitness and healthy practices. He eventually trailed off, throwing his hands up in exasperation once he realized he wouldn’t get through to her.

Determined not to lose the interest of another mentee, he forced me to return my attention to the hanging sandbag to practice my newly learned skills. He prattled on to Lorelai, trying to get her to participate, but she simply stood sipping her water absentmindedly with a hand on her hip, and her eyes zeroed in on Iris, who was expertly flipping on and off high ropes.

“She’s really something, huh?” She mused appreciatively to herself, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Iris caught her gaze and winked with a grin, and I couldn’t help but mirror it as I glanced between them. Rankor demanded I ‘get focused,’ and I returned my attention to my training, but a spark of glee at what I’d just overseen between the two of them still filled me.

Eventually, the locals seemed to have soaked their fill at seeing the Descendant of Hyrax train and they left. They all bowed their heads graciously as they went, even though I barely knew them. I flushed crimson every time someone said their goodbyes to me.

I would never adjust to all this notoriety.

And finally, after Rankor had drilled twelve different offensive maneuvers into my brain and I felt like my arms and legs would fall off at any moment, he announced that I’d done well and should get washed up for dinner.

Thank the Gods.

“Miss Moore!” called a familiarly angry voice, and I stiffened against the sound of it.

Clay strode in with an edge of irritation painted on his brow. Wearing a simple white shirt and gray trousers, he barked that the room was closed for the day, effectively dismissing the remaining lords, ladies and courts people until only he, I, and our frowning friends remained. His eyes twinkled golden, and I grit my teeth in frustration and anticipation of what would come next.

I could only assume this anger was lingering from the night I had snuck out to the Alchemist’s estate. I hadn’t spoken to him since we had returned from the inn, but it seemed our time apart had done nothing to calm him. The dragon in him had awoken, and it had marked me as its target.

“You’d be impressed,” Rankor announced, clapping a hand down on Clay’s shoulder as if he was oblivious to the barely contained wrath rolling off our prince. “Our little telekinetic here is quite the natural.”

Clayton’s eyes narrowed at me and the corner of his lip turned up devilishly. “I’ll decide that.”

“Oh?” I questioned, voice shaking as I suddenly remembered the last time he had looked at me like that.

It had been while he whispered how thoroughly he had wanted to fuck me. And then I’d practically begged him to do it.

Was he remembering the same thing? Was that why the skin at his fingertips was slowly blackening?

He inclined his head to the sparring arena where Kent and Iris were toweling themselves off.

“My father set your trial dates for four months from now,” he announced.My friends exchanged worried glances, but Clay continued, attention solely on me. “Perhaps you might benefit from practicing with the person who’s actually passed them before.”

My adrenaline spiked. Clayton Vail, Crown Prince of Athenia, who had trained for battle his entire life, who looked like a God had personally carved every muscle in his body, wanted me, who had just learned how to throw a punch, to fight him.

I was going to die.

Camilla snorted as she strode into the room to join us. “Clearly I came just in time.”

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