Page 2 of Blood of Dragons

I grabbed the sword off the ground and hooked it across my back, my muscles strained in fatigue, the sweat pouring into my eyes and making them burn. It was my opportunity to demonstrate my skills, to show how hard I worked to master the sword as I had. But now I felt humiliated.

I turned away and took a clean rag from the servant to wipe my forehead. I dabbed at the sweat and approached the shade of the trellis, seeing a hummingbird exploring a red flower.

Footsteps sounded behind me before a strong hand gripped my shoulder.

I dabbed at my face again before I tossed the soiled towel onto the nearby table.

“You did well.” It was my father’s voice, possessing strength and affection simultaneously.

“I lost.”

“You were always going to lose, son. That’s the game.”

I turned to look at him, our eyes at the same level because we stood at the same height. He had dark hair the way I did, even the same eyes. I was the perfect image of my father—with a hint of softness from my mother.

His hand remained on my shoulder. “The goal is not to win—but endure. And you endured a great deal, survived some of our finest soldiers for a great deal of time. You should be proud.” He squeezed me. “I know I am.”

I continued to stare into the distance, another wave of sweat dripping down my forehead.

“You act as if you failed.”

“Because I did fail.”

He pulled his hand away. “You’ve endured longer than any other soldier in the ring. Push yourself to greatness, but don’t set expectations that can’t be reached. I’ve enjoyed watching youfight, and it brings me great comfort knowing you’ll lead our people when my time comes.”

I finally turned to look at him.

His eyes softened slightly once our eyes made contact. “I’m proud of you, son.”

“Thank you, Father.”

He grabbed my shoulder and pulled me close, pressing a kiss to my brow. “Now wash up. You look like hell.”

I sat on the terrace and looked over the edge, seeing the lights from the village as it hugged the shore. Night had descended, and there was still a humid warmth in the air. The breeze moved through my hair as I sipped my wine.

“There you are.” Silas emerged onto the terrace, wearing a linen shirt and trousers, his signature grin on his face. He pulled out the chair and helped himself to the spot beside me. He grabbed the wine bottle next and filled his glass before he grabbed a few olives from the center of the table. “Bad day?”

“You could say that.”

He continued to eat, helping himself to the food the servants had prepared for me. “What happened?”

I drank my wine and didn’t answer the question.

Silas didn’t push it. He looked over the edge at the dark ocean we could no longer see. “Vivian is looking for you.”

Guilt squeezed my heart.

“It’s not like you not to come home.”

I continued to look at the ocean.

“Father said you did well today.”

“I could have done better.”

“You hold the record for the longest endurance, so I doubt that. You’re just a dramatic overachiever.”

“No. Father holds the record for the longest endurance.”