Page 57 of A Legacy of Poison and Lies

Close-fitting and supportive, it was perfect for training. And like the trousers Nye had provided, left very little to the imagination.

“They’re made from a blend of cotton and rubber, woven here by skilled hands who love to rise to every challenge I set them,” Nye had told her when she’d first pulled on the form-fitting trousers.

“You gave them this idea?” Zylah had asked, running a hand over the charcoal fabric, fingertips tracing the silver stitching at the cuffs.

Nye had merely shrugged. “I put in the request. They delivered.”

But now multiple voices echoed down the final corridor, and for a moment Zylah wished for something less revealing.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Nye offered, “We share our training spaces with the rest of the court.” She pushed aside a large door and waved a hand for Zylah to go first.

Zylah’s apprehension from moments before dissipated the moment she stepped out onto the balcony, the frigid air wrapping around her.

Pairs and small groups of Fae were dotted around the space, talking and training, weapons clashing, and none wore more than a few scraps of clothing not too dissimilar to those Nye had given her. Some were guards Zylah recognised from the attack at Jora’s funeral, others were new.

She felt some of the soldiers’ attention shift to her, no doubt taking in her rounded ears—evidence of her half human side. She’d seen only High Fae since arriving and realised now that perhaps Malok’s distaste for humans spread deeper than she first thought. It seemed it wasn’t just humans he disapproved of if only High Fae inhabited his court.

“It’s fine,” she said absentmindedly, turning to take in the scene. “I’ve fought in front of an audience before.”

“Now there’s a story I’d love to hear.”

Zylah turned to the sound of Kej’s voice, only to find him tugging off snow-dusted layers of clothes beside his sister, who had her own pile beside her.

“Where have you been?” Zylah asked, holding Kej’s gaze as his eyes roved slowly from her feet up to her face.

The skin on her arms prickled from the cold, but she refused to fold them across herself, unwilling to show any weakness in front of what she was now certain were members of Malok’s army training around her.

Kej winked. “Out all night. We like to let off some steam and there are only so many places here that are big enough to accommodate us in our wildcat form.” His firm muscles flexed as he peeled off his shirt, and Zylah wondered if the pair of them ate in their wildcat forms or if he’d just delivered an outright lie, judging by the way Rin shifted uncomfortably beside him.

“You’re lucky you can sneak out,” Zylah said, rolling her neck and following Nye’s series of warm-up stretches, willing her hands not to shake from the chill air. “I’ll be glad to get rid of some of this pent-up energy.”

Kej took a step closer, eyes blazing with heat. “I can think of plenty of other ways to attend to that.”

Zylah huffed a laugh.

“Kej.” Rin rolled her eyes, tugging at her brother’s elbow, but he merely offered a wide grin in response.

If things were different, she might have risen to his challenge. Followed through on his invitation. He was handsome in the way all High Fae were, kind, but his cocky lines reminded her too much of Raif, and that only twisted the knife in her chest deeper.

“What’s the deal with you and Holt, anyway?” Kej asked, snapping Zylah from her thoughts.

Rin elbowed him. “You can’t ask that.”

“Why not? I want to know whether my efforts will be worthwhile. Even in Nye’s old clothes, she stinks of Holt, and they both look at each other like they’re starved for air.”

Zylah sniffed at her shoulder and blinked.

“Excellent work, Kej, she’ll definitely want to train with you now.” Rin sighed, offering Zylah an apologetic glance.

He shrugged off his sister’s hold, his attention fixed on Zylah. “Who says I wanted to train?”

“Pent-up energy indeed,” Zylah murmured, following Nye’s lead. “We’re just friends. I was… with someone, and…” She’d never said it out loud before, but the three of them were watching her, waiting for an answer. She looked away, watching a nearby pair in the middle of a sparring match. “He died.” Her voice felt distant, like she was losing herself, floating away from her body. She dug her nails into her arm to keep herself present, focusing on the sting instead. “He was a good friend of Holt’s.”

“Ah. So you feel guilty.” Kej’s words still held the cocky tone, but he took a step back. Fell into a starting position opposite his sister, his gaze snagging on something at the corner of the room. “Pity. My friend over there was looking for a third.”

Zylah mirrored Nye’s pose, her eyes following Kej’s to a guard watching from a level above. He waved two fingers in a half salute, a wide grin brightening his face as his gaze remained fixed on Kej.

“Your redhead friend seemed rather lovely,” Zylah said with a huff, dodging an attack from Nye who had started without warning.

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