Page 22 of A Dagger in the Ivy

“I’ll be back shortly, Your Highness.” Indira wipes her hands on her apron. “I need to fetch fresh towels for your bathing chambers.”

As Indira shuts the door behind her, the sound of low-toned laughter reaches my ears. I turn my head immediately to the open double doors leading to the balcony. From the inner courtyard, voices and laughter of men float into the room. Nadya and I cast a glance at each other, both of us obviously intrigued by what might be occurring on the grounds. She giggles and gestures with her head, indicating that we should indulge in our curiosity.

Stepping out into the sunlit balcony of my room, Nadya and I are greeted by a scene of breathtaking beauty. Lush greenery surrounds us on all sides, a riot of color and life that seems to breathe with vitality. Ivy cascades down the walls in verdant curtains, its tendrils reaching out as if to embrace the world around it. Clusters of vibrant wildflowers dot the landscape, their petals unfurling in a kaleidoscope of hues: a symphony of crimson, gold, and azure.

The air is filled with the heady scent of blooming blossoms, their fragrance mingling with the fresh, earthy aroma of dew-kissed grass. Bees buzz lazily among the flowerbeds, their gentle hum adding to the tranquil ambiance of the courtyard.

In the center of the courtyard, a pristine fountain glistens in the sunlight, its waters sparkling like liquid crystal. Marble statues stand sentinel around its perimeter, their chiseled features frozen in eternal grace and beauty. The soothing sound of trickling water fills the air, a melody that seems to echo through the very heart of the citadel.

As I take in the serene splendor of the courtyard, I am filled with a sense of peace and tranquility. It is a sanctuary amidst the chaos of the world—a place where beauty reigns supreme, and nature’s wonders unfold in all their glory. And for a moment, as I stand amidst the ivy-clad walls and blooming flowers, I feel as though I have stepped into a world of pure enchantment.

Down below us, a group of people are gathered. A stack of haybales holds a bullseye target in front of them. I recognize the prince, traipsing near three others—a woman and two men, his laughter dominating their conversation. A bow hangs from the prince’s grasp, but the quiver of arrows stands on the ground at the foot of one of the men. But what draws my focus is the fact that the prince has discarded his shirt.

Nadya and I exchange mischievous looks, leaning our arms on the balcony’s iron balustrade as we watch. The scene below unfolds like a carefully choreographed dance, each movement fluid and precise. Torbin commands the attention of all those around him, his charismatic presence undeniable even from a distance.

“This time, I’ll do it with my eyes closed.” Torbin’s brag is received with low chuckles and encouragement.

I can’t help but admire the effortless grace with which he draws back the bowstring, his movements fluid and confident. His aim is true, each arrow finding its mark with unerring accuracy, eliciting cheers and applause from his companions.

“Quite the showman, isn’t he?” I can’t help but smile at Torbin’s theatrical display.

Nadya nods, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Quitea show.” She gives me a wink, and I know she’s not just talking about the arrows hitting their mark.

But even as we marvel at Torbin’s prowess, my gaze drifts to another figure among the group: a figure who sits under a nearby magnolia tree. I didn’t notice him at first because he’s obscured by branches and pink blossoms. He’s dressed in the same sleek, black outfit I saw him in earlier, and he lounges on a single haybale apart from the rest of the group with an air of quiet intensity. Dante, sharpening the falchion in his grip with a whetstone, exudes a silent confidence that sets him apart from his flamboyant half-brother.

“He’s not bad, either.” Nadya’s gaze lingers on Dante with unabashed curiosity.

I nod, unable to deny the magnetic pull of Dante’s presence. There’s a certain rawness to him, and I wonder again if his cold stare was his usual expression, or if it was something personal.

“No applause from my little brother?” Torbin faces his brother. I can just make out his smirk from this distance.

“Nice shot.” Dante’s tone is laced with playful sarcasm. “But let’s see if you can hit the target when you’re not three feet in front of it.”

“I’m at least thrice that distance, not that you’re paying any attention.”

Dante blows the particles from the whetstone. “I see all, Brother. Even when I’m not looking. As for you, perhaps you need to have your eyes checked. You’re so close to the target, you could spit on it.”

Torbin lets out a hearty laugh. “Why so grumpy, Brother?”

As the two banter, the others look on, crossing their arms and smiling as if watching a theater performance.

“I’m having a bad day.” Dante grabs the piece of leather from beside him and rubs it along the blade of his weapon. “And I’m in an irritable mood. I think it’s called being human.”

“But you’re not all human, are you?” Torbin gives him a teasing smile.

“Hmm. Maybe the human half is the problem. I mean, if I feel thisbad being only half-human, you must be miserable.”

Half-human? What’s the other half? I can’t help but wonder if he’s fae.

Torbin chuckles, the sound full of mischief as he notches another arrow. “Oh, come now, Dante. Surely, you’re not still sore about that time I beat you in our last archery contest?”

Dante stands. “You didn’t beat me—you cheated. Every arrow you gave me was bent. And besides, we both know I’m the superior swordsman.”

Torbin laughs, a carefree sound that fills the air with warmth. “Is that so, Brother?” he teases, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Well, I suppose we’ll just have to settle this once and for all, won’t we? A duel to determine who is the true master of the blade.”

As Dante steps out from beneath the magnolia tree, I get a better look at him. The fit of his clothes enhances his tall, athletic build. The high-collared jacket he wears is perfectly tailored to give him an elegant yet formidable appearance. The material of the jacket is smooth and catches the light subtly, adding to the overall impression of sophistication. The sable color of the outfit complements his rich, tan-colored skin. Underneath, a dark shirt is visible, contributing to the seamless, monochromatic look.

Dante raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk crossing his features. “I’d like to propose a more challenging contest.”

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