Page 28 of The Fifth Soul

“Each of the brothers has earned their position.” The comment brings me back to the present. Sofia lowers her voice like the biggest secret ever is about to be shared. “They’ve spent their lives living up to the names they knew they would one day carry.”

“They knew?” I let the question fall from my lips at the same volume to humor her, but it goes over her head.

She shrugs. “Jesse and Roman knew they would be known for something, at the very least, the brothers of the crown prince. They instead chose to make that something else.”

I think about that as I make my way back to my room. The suite is empty and dark when I walk inside. I am about to disappear behind my bedroom door when I see a note on my door. It’s a message from Brandon saying he expects to see what I have learned so far at the training circle tomorrow morning.

CHAPTER 9

BIANCA

‘Crown pet’ is written all over my locker. There are also mocking and disgusting figures painted across the metal. The irony of the insult doesn’t go over my head. I’m so angry I forget to breathe. My vision goes blurry on the edges, and my breath comes out in shallow gasps.

My clothing is all shredded, like someone went manic with scissors. The tactical training gear is nearly gone, except for a few items that are also damaged. None of that is what makes me see red. Nope, not at all. It’s the cut-up old shirt and pants. The ones I had in my possession when I arrived at this castle. The one decent pair I bought with my money.

Bullies only go as far as you permit. They exploit the vulnerable but retreat when they see you're no longer an easy mark. I've tolerated this for too long. Wanting to keep the peace and my head down has cost me this. I am the only one to blame, and that ends today.

For all I know, this happened days ago. Since I haven’t been back here, I have no way to know. The reason for my attendance slips away as I storm out. I spot Dora casually leaning against a post, serving a very bored Jesse with a flirtatious smile. He’s always here, either practicing or watching from the sidelines. At times, he stands with his brother or other guards, but other times, he’s alone. Like every other time in the training circles, I ignore his presence.

“You fucking bitch!” I close the distance between us.

I know it was her. If it wasn’t for the bullshit she threw my way the first week, her stupid handwriting would have given her away. Many heads turn in my direction, but I pay them no attention. It’s not until I’m feet away from her she realizes I am yelling at her. Her devious smirk at my outburst is all the confirmation I need. She likes to see me riled up. Well, she won’t feel the same soon enough.

“Now, you’ve done it,” I say.

I picture Dora as the object of my focus. I mentally close in on her like nothing else around exists. She is the cup across the library table. I say a spell under my breath that allows me to bend air. I redirect a gust of it directly to her with all my might.

I don’t give her time to block as I send her flying backward. Oh, Santiago will be so proud when he hears about this. He’s taught me a lot this week, and I’m about to test his hard work.

The bitch catches her body in mid-air and lowers herself slowly while still sporting a smirk. I vow to see it gone today. Unsheathing two long blades from her hidden pockets, she flexes her hands on the hilts before fixing her eyes on me. She’s not wearing training gear; it's her castle guard uniform.

“Ladies.” Jesse steps forward with his hands up.

I use the same spell to shove him back enough to give me a direct path to Dora. I noticed how much easier it was the second time. Only having three small daggers doesn’t bother me. I plan on stealing hers. I toss two daggers back-to-back. She blocks the first two, expecting every move. But she either doesn’t expect the third or isn’t fast enough. It embeds itself deep into her left arm, leaving her partly incapacitated. I see her wince in pain before she can mask it and raise her hand. The wind picks up. Before I know it, she creates a cloud of dirt that blends the air all around us, creating a dust ball.

Everyone’s eyes must be on us by now. Sparring sessions and training lessons are never this chaotic. I’m not concerned about anyone stopping us. Students can challenge each other, and the moment she unsheathed her blades, she accepted my challenge. Now, I need to make sure I win. It’s rare that cadets kill each other in the training circles over challenges, but it has happened.

The dust ball becomes bigger and thicker in seconds. There’s no chance she can see any better than me, and that thought alone keeps me from losing my shit. My strength doesn’t lie in mixing magic in battle. Hand-to-hand combat is my strength, so I need to close the distance between us if I want any chance of winning.

I turn to my side and see Jesse watching the entire exchange with ease. Unlike me, he isn’t shading his eyes from the dust. The dust moves around his face. A spell mentioned during my study sessions comes to mind.

“Good one.” I hurriedly mimic the spell he is using.

I get it right on the second try, reminding me how green I am. As soon as the spell is up, I find a furious Dora charging at me. Both blades are in the air, aiming for my shoulders.

I act instinctively, moving to the side at the last minute, using her momentum forward to trip her legs. One of her blades slides across my forearm, but I push through the pain. She drops both blades on the floor on her way down, but quickly gets up and faces me.

Blow after blow, we go back and forth. The dust ball dissipates as she focuses all her attention on deflecting hits or attacking. Dora isn’t bad. We’re similar in height, and her training is not lacking. I can’t use the same techniques and tricks I did for men twice my size.

I begin to tire, and for the first time, I fear I might not win this. A blade lands nearby before I can think of something that will give me an advantage. Dora doesn’t hesitate to pick it up. I recognize the color and shape belonging to a classmate in Alejandra’s team.

Technically, no one said anything while throwing the blade, but I am not inclined to believe it was meant for me. They’re helping her, and no one is going to help me. I think of the one boy who would have always come to my rescue, lying unmoving on a bed. He depends on me. I can’t let him down.

I straddle Dora on the floor while she leans to grab the blade off the ground. I press both my hands on hers. They are above her head, and now the blade is facing up, aiming straight for my head. She isn’t planning on making me submit and lose the challenge. She is aiming to kill, and I can’t begin to understand what would make a person hate someone this much.

I try very hard to not utilize some of my cheap street shots, but all bets are off when my life is on the line. I aim my forehead at her nose and crack it down. The bone breaks in one swift movement and the blood that flows after is all the confirmation I need. The angle her nose remains in is also all kinds of fucked up. I have a hard head.

Instinctively, Dora lets go of the knife and covers her nose. She curses me all the way to Sunday, but the blood flooding down her face and hands muffles her words. Despite being distracted and in pain, she is not ready to submit. I see it in her simmering eyes.

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