Page 54 of I Destroyed the Elf Prince's Harem

“Where was the race held?”

“Through the middle of the afternoon market.”

“Shit,” I hissed, wincing.

“It was a complete mess.” He sighed, his voice filled with nostalgic warmth. “Stalls and carts were overturned. Produce destroyed. We were lucky no one got hurt. Everyone was so angry. When we were hauled in front of my father, he was so infuriated he couldn’t even speak in complete sentences. His face kept getting redder and redder like a tomato about to split.”

“How long were you stuck in the dungeon?”

“Two days. Our mother heard about it. She came to tell us both what a disappointment we were, and how we’d embarrassed the entire family. Afterward, she spoke to father on our behalf and convinced him to release us. As punishment, we had to work one day a week in the market for a year. We served everyone who had a stall or a cart selling goods. Ran hundreds of errands, shoveled tons of manure, whatever was asked of us.”

“You and Orian got the shit jobs. Literally.”

“Yes. And then the day after market duty, we always had double training and double school lessons to make up for what we missed while working the market.” He paused, and his grin grew a bit larger. “It was absolute misery for an entire year, but Orian made it tolerable. Even fun at times. We got to know so many of the people who called the capital home. He was always the more outgoing of us. He could chat with anyone and make them feel at ease. Orian said people could tell us apart because I was always scowling.”

That was a little hard to believe. Other than those first couple of days together, it seemed like Nylian always had a smile teasing his lips when I looked at him. How could Orian be the cheerful twin?

“Why?” The single word was a whisper that sounded as if it had gotten caught in the back of his throat. “Why would someone target him? It doesn’t make any sense. Everyone loves Orian. Loved…loved him. I’m the annoying one. The argumentative one. Orian was the calm, level-headed one. I’m the one who jumps in with my sword drawn.”

Nylian’s fist trembled as he raised it to pound on the ground, but I caught it before it could strike. With a squeeze, I dragged his watery eyes to my face. “How do you know he was the target?”

The elf blinked wide eyes at me. His lips parted, but there was only silence besides a distant drip of water.

“What are you talking about?” he demanded at last. His voice was still low, as if we were discussing secrets, and maybe we were.

“Walk me through that day. You said it happened during a duel.”

Nylian nodded. “Someone had put poison on my blade, and it got into his bloodstream from a minor cut he suffered in the duel.”

I waved my hands at him. “You’ve skipped too much.” I turned on the straw to face him and rested my shoulder on the cold stone wall. “Did you and your brother duel often?”

“Yes, at least once a week if we were both in the castle. Sometimes more often.”

“Same place?”

“Yes, if the weather was nice, there was a large courtyard we used. If the weather was poor, we took over the ballroom.”

“So, it was likely common knowledge around the castle this happened?”

Nylian made an irritated, impatient noise, but nodded again. “Yes. I’m sure all the servants and most of the court knew about our duels, but we wouldn’t let anyone in to watch. We didn’t want the annoyance or distraction.”

“Did you use the sword I see you carry?”

“No, of course not!” That answer was sharper. To the point where I was afraid he was going to hit me. But the elf controlled his temper and lowered his voice. “We have special dueling swords. They are lighter weight with a dull edge, so we can’t accidentally harm one another.”

“But of those dueling swords, you have one specific sword and Orian has another.”

“No, not really. The swords are identical.”

“So, you don’t always fight with the same sword?”

“No, that’s impossible.” Annoyance was growing thick in his voice as he shifted to face me. “The dueling swords are identical in every way. They are stored together in a case that’s kept with all the other training supplies. Usually, one of us tells a servant to fetch the swords and where to bring them. That day, the weather had been nice. We spent some time practicing some archery while we waited for the swords. When we were done, the swords were waiting on a table for us.”

“Who chose a sword first?”

Nylian was on his feet in a flash, pacing our cell, making it feel smaller with every pass. “No,” he snapped, no longer willing to even glance in my direction. “No. I know what you’re thinking, and you are wrong.” He turned and grabbed the iron bars with both hands with a hiss. “Orian would never…”

Swearing under my breath, I shoved to my feet and hurried across the short distance separating us. “You don’t know what I’m thinking, and it’s clear you’re not thinking at all.” I grabbed his wrists and violently ripped his hands away from the bars. Just from that short period of time, his fingers were already red and looked to be forming welts. Iron and the fae don’t mix. I released one hand and smacked him in the middle of the forehead. “Don’t be a dumbass. You need your hands.”

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