Page 54 of Blood On His Lips

His wild beautywas not lost on me, as much of a blow as if he had punched me in the solar plexus. Renaud watched me, his expression set, the line of full lips I had seen curve in sly humor and sensual heat now flat. This was not a game to him, not some twisted High Fae courting ritual. Neither was it a game to me.

“Why do you persist in this?” he asked. “You know I could kill you if I wished it, and I do not. This is akin to a toddler pounding their fists against the rug.”

The calmly delivered insult was bad enough. At least he did me the courtesy of pitching his voice for my ears only.

“And you truly think your predilection for killing anything that offends you is not a toddler tantrum?” I retorted.

I reversed my blade to lay flat along my left forearm, fighting with just the saber for now. Ice bloomed in the air, fragile crystals that infiltrated my lungs, and soon my breath became a winter puff in front of my face.

“I am close to losing my patience, Aerinne. I was never much known for it. The other night taxed me.”

“I will not let you kill them. I will not let you make me into your killing hand.”

His eyes darkened. My words had found their mark.

Renaud’s stance shifted, and we circled. His hand twitched, and I countered it by shifting my weight. Nothing moved but the breeze, nothing but the Prince and I.

Renaud blurred, fast and light, a flurry of strokes. Our silver blades clashed, singing in harmony with the rain, and a darkness that was slowly becoming familiar rose within me.

I moved forward, testing him in a dance of strikes. He parried and returned them all, increasing his speed past the point of even my Skill, faster than any warrior I had ever encountered. Were it not for the circumstances, dueling him would have been a joy.

There was no holding back. One did not draw a blade against the Prince without an intent to kill. I set my jaw and attacked, though his expression did not flicker. He did me the courtesy, again, of not looking bored. He offered at least that much respect.

There was no room to wonder if there was another way to get through to him, another way to begin to undo thousands of years of twisted thinking where everything must lead to death for the sake of maintaining power.

My heel slid in the mud and I flew back. Renaud paused, stepping back with a chevalier’s courtesy to allow me time to regain my feet. An enraged shriek warned me just as reddish-gold hair draping over a bloodstained pink dress entered my vision. I threw up my arm to block Vervain’s attack.

“Die, mortal bitch,” she said in a hiss.

I wasn’t really mortal, though I wouldn’t argue with the bitch part from her point of view. I bit back a wince at how she held her blade. She was only half-trained. I rolled swiftly to my feet, ignoring my mud-soaked clothing—except to be glad I’d chosen dark colors and not my formal robes—as she scrambled after me.

A flash of lightning struck the ground several miles away, and a chorus of startled curses echoed mine. Vervain took advantage of my second of distraction and threw her blade.

“Fuck!” I whirled out of the way in a burst of Skill-powered speed.

Stupid girl,Darkan said, voice emotionless. I wasn’t entirely certain which girl he meant. It was entirely possible he meant me. Wait—Darkan was speaking to me while Renaud was present. I started to respond then forced myself to focus.

Vervain stumbled, choking, her hands around her neck. She staggered back several steps, tripping over Tybien’s legs and falling. I turned to Renaud, who stared at the girl with malevolent eyes, the impassiveness of his expression gone.

“Release her,” I demanded. “You don’t need to kill everyone who wants me dead. Half the city would be gone.”

An exaggeration,Darkan said. Some days it didn’t feel like one, though.

Renaud said, “Very well.”

Her neck snapped.

Staring down at her, I felt nothing but exhaustion. “Why?”

She insulted you, in public, knowing that you have the favor of her Prince, in an attempt to incite violence against his orders,Darkan said.Did you think those crimes would stand? It was only a matter of time.

But he doesn’t even know about that.I wanted to tear my hair out or find a dark alley and cry into a bottle for an hour.

Is that what you believe?

Typical cryptic Darkan rhetorical horseshit question.

My body began to feel the chill of the rain now that I was no longer moving. Though maybe it wasn’t the rain.

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