Page 33 of Blood of Wolves

The second guard motioned to the farmer across from him, and they began their own bout, blunted swords chiming and scraping.

“Some of these lads have never done any fighting besides crude fistfights in stable yards,” a feminine voice spoke just to Tessa’s left, and she turned to find Estrid seated on one of the viewing benches, hair braided high on her head, swaddled in pale furs from the neck down. The torchlight caught on the diamonds in her ears, and braided into her hair; highlighted her striking Northern features, and clear, ice-blue eyes, as she turned her head just far enough to regard Tessa in return.

Estrid was the last person Tessa wanted to see, and she shrank back, inwardly. Outwardly, though, she refused to give ground. She stared steadily at the other girl, until, finally, Estrid smirked and glanced away. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

“What brings you out of bed and to the training yard so early, Lady Tessa?” Estrid asked, tone light – and false. The same sing-song voice she’d used every time she’d smiled right at Tessa’s face while she needled her with cleverly disguised insults.

But…Tessa detected something else, too. Some underlying note that made Estrid sound almost…curious.

“And without your maid, too,” she tacked on, and most definitely sounded curious, now. “Careful. That’s a good way for a girl to ruin her reputation, spending her morning unaccompanied in a yard full of sweating, grunting men.” The last said with relish.

Tessa knew well enough by now when she was being goaded. She stared at the side of Estrid’s head, her flushed cheek and her sleekly-braided hair, and said, “If that’s true, then where’syourmaid, Lady Estrid?”

Estrid’s lashes fluttered as she blinked, and then her gaze slid back, slowly, narrowing. Her pleased grin melted. “What?”

“You’re correct,” Tessa said, a little proud of the cold note in her voice. “There are a plenty ofsweating, gruntingmen out here, almost all of which are employed by the royal family. None of which would dare lay a finger on Prince Rune’s fiancée. All are honorable men, to be sure, though I find it surprising, you not being a member of the royal household, that you have such faith as to not bring an escort of your own.”

Estrid’s expression smoothed, so that she was wide-eyed and open-mouthed by the end. Her gaze swept down to Tessa’s toes, and then back up, a considering light sparking in her eyes. Her throat moved as she swallowed. “Rune’sfiancée?” she asked, finally.

“Yes.”

The guards continued to spar with the farmers, exclamations, barked laughs, and the clang of steel-on-steel ringing out across the yard. The sky was lightening, as the sun crept closer and closer to the horizon, a natural, silvery light flaring in Estrid’s eyes as she studied Tessa a long moment.

Then, she softened, shoulders dropping, the fight bleeding out of her expression. She shrugged, and faced the action once more. “Well. Congratulations, I suppose.” She sounded lighter, less mocking.

Tessa sighed, and sat down on the far end of the bench, wincing as even that small movement tugged at her sore muscles.

One of the farmers landed a solid hit on the guard he was opposing, prompting the other guard to shout with laughter.

Perhaps she should go back to her room.

“All right,” Estrid said, down on her end of the bench. “That’s enough of that.” She stood, before Tessa could ask what she meant, and stepped forward, hands lifting from beneath her cloak to clap sharply three times, the sound echoing off the walls and bringing the combatants up short. “Well done, lads,” she called, “but don’t you have patrols and chores to be getting on with?”

Rude, Tessa thought.

But all four young men fell in line, weapons lowered. The farmers ducked their heads in deference. The guards blushed, cheeks pink in the growing light.

“Yes, my lady,” one said, bowed, and then ushered the other three out of the yard.

When they were gone, a young page boy came scurrying in, toting a bundle of cloth beneath his arm. He hurried down to the far end of the yard.

Estrid turned back and unclasped her cloak; tossed it over the bench. Beneath, she wore a simple-high-necked dress and a brown leather corset beneath a thick belt; an outfit similar to what she’d worn to spar with Revna, yesterday. She bent to retrieve something from beneath the bench – a bow and a quiver full of arrows – and paused in the act of straightening, gaze locking with Tessa’s. She smirked. “You think I should have asked them politely, don’t you?”

Tessa didn’t flinch or shrink back from her sharp regard. “To be honest, I don’t spend any time thinking about you.” She managed not to react to her own words, after, clamping down hard on the urge to clap a hand over her mouth. She’d sounded likeOliverjust then.

Estrid held her gaze another moment, then snorted. A smile teased at the corners of her mouth, and it didn’t look mocking or derisive this time. “Ah.”

Tessa hummed the least interested note of inquiry she could manage.

Estrid straightened, and set the quiver on the bench. Withdrew a handful of arrows. “I knew there had to be at least a little bit of fire in your belly if you were sneaking around behind Leif’s back with his brother.”

Tessa frowned. “I wasn’t sneaking around. Leif and I were never properly engaged.”

Estrid’s grin widened. “No? Well, thank the gods for small mercies.” She turned to face the far end of the yard, where the page boy had pinned two fresh, cloth targets over the hay bale frames up against the wall.

Tessa stood and dusted the back of her cloak and dress. It was too cold to sit out here and do nothing – and even if she’d handled herself better, there was only so much of Estrid she could take at a time.

The other girl’s voice halted, her, though, as she turned to leave.

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