Page 110 of Daughter of the Serpent

“And what would hervictorsay?” Rederick spat, all eyes turning toward Bjorn.

Bjorn’s eyes gleamed with anger, ready to boil over. “I’d rather she die by my hand, here and now.”

Sylvie’s heart stopped in her chest.How would she get out of this?

“As the victor, the choice is yours,” Rederick announced, a sly smile creeping across his face. “It is your right.”

Sylvie flinched at the finality of Rederick’s words, the weight of her choice sinking in. Her heart pounded, and her eyes darted to the crowd, desperate for a glimpse of Axel, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Had he abandoned her?

She closed her eyes again, defeat washing over her.

This was the cost of her decision - her foolish, reckless choice - and she had to accept the consequences. She looked up at Haldor, desperate to have his eyes meet hers.

At least in these final moments he came to her side.

“My quarrel isn’t with you, Haldor.” Bjorn said, moving his ax to his side. “Leave now, let me take my revenge.”

Haldor stood his ground, unmoving.“You could take your revenge now, but why not wait until she is a worthy opponent, instead of a mere lamb ready for the slaughter?”

Bjorn’s chin lifted definitely.

“Why not have an opponent who can match you? Or are you afraid she’ll become stronger in the coming weeks? She did almost have you.”

Bjorn’s laughter was deep, guttural. “I had her in the palm of my hand.”

“Didn’t look like it to me,” Haldor shot back, a hint of a challenge in his tone. “She nearly bested you, and you know it.”

Bjorn’s eyes flashed with anger. “Youlie.”

“Then prove me wrong,” Haldor countered. “Let her live fornow. Let her train, let her face you again and become an opponent worthy of your ax, and die a proper death.”

Bjorn’s jaw clenched, his knuckles white around the handle of his ax. For a moment, the entire arena held its breath.

Haldor turned to the crowd. “Is it not true that you would all love to see their blades cross again in the trials?”

The crowd roared their approval in response. Sylvie’s pulse quickened; Haldor knew, as well as everyone else, that Bjorn’s one weakness was his hunger for fame - and that the people loved a spectacle.

Bjorn’s mouth twisted, his gaze searing. “Fine.”

He stepped back, jaw clenched. “But her death is inevitable, and next time, no one stands in my way.”

He turned, addressing the elders and crowd with a voice filled with venom. “Let it be known - I have not spared a life today. I have only postponed her suffering.” His eyes locked onto Sylvie’s, a dark promise flashing there, before he spat at her feet. “Until the trials.”

Haldor extended his hand, steady and unwavering. Sylvie took it, pulling herself up, her heart racing with relief. But as she steadied, Bjorn’s gaze shifted to Haldor, sharp and threatening.“I won’t forget whose side you’ve taken,” Bjorn growled. “You will regret your actions this day.”

His glare lingered, sharp and heavy, before he turned on his heel and stalked away.

Sylvie barely registered the words before Haldor stepped toward her. His expression was a tempest - anger and something else, something like disappointment flickering in his eyes.

“Leave now, Sylvie,” he said, his voice low but searing.

The words pierced, and her throat tightened, a rush of shame twisting with angst deep in her chest. “I’m sorry, Haldor - ”

“Go!” His voice lashed out, sharp and final, as he released her hand and turned his back on her. Without a glance, he rejoined the other delegates gathered near the edge of the ring.

Sylvie’s fingers curled against her injured arm, the dull throb a faint echo of her humiliation, her stupidity.

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