Page 19 of Courting the Fae Captain
Her features screwed up in rage as she charged, which was exactly what I had counted on. I ran towards her, sliding over the mud and kicking her knee in. She screamed as she went down, but I should have known the stubborn bitch wouldn’t give up easily. She grabbed my braid, yanking me back with such force I had to wonder if she’d torn my hair from the scalp.When her face leered above mine, she grabbed my head and bashed it once, twice, thrice into the mud. The blade in her hand flashed as she raised it, ready to plunge it into my chest.
“Justice for my people,” she whispered.
Justice? I didn’t know what she meant, and my head was too groggy to work it out. I was running on instinct now. Stars burst before my eyes, but I lifted my knee and thrust it into her stomach, allowing me to gain the upper hand as I rolled and straddled her. I twisted her hand, causing her to yelp and drop the weapon. I retrieved it quickly and held it to her throat.
“Yield,” I hissed.
She thrashed and grunted, writhing beneath me. I let that blade nick the sensitive skin of her throat until she finally fell still. Liquid fury raged in her blue eyes, but I had the win, andshe knew it.No mercy,I told myself.You should offer no mercy and end it now.
But I wasn’t a killer. Not yet. “Yield,” I shouted in her face.
“Okay! I yield.”
Applause rang out from the surrounding females as I rose to my feet. Even some of the guards in the square gave crooked grins as though it was impressive for a female. And Raithe … I couldn’t decipher the look in his dark eyes. He didn’t smile, didn’t even nod. I wasn’t sure why that stung slightly. A feeling to decipher later.
Sherai and Akira ran towards me; their faces alight with huge grins. It was only when Sherai’s face shifted into shock that I knew something was wrong. “Aeris!”
I turned in time to see a blade made of blood hovering in Portia’s hand.Blood Court magic.Her face was the epitome of smug as she looked at me, ready to make good on her promise. Her arm raised, and I shifted, ready to dive out of the way, but the attack never came.
Shadows launched at Portia, prowling up her legs and wrapping around her arm until she was held in a vice-like grip, making her magic sputter out and drip back to the ground.The next moment, Raithe towered over her, his eyes stormy and his jaw tight. “We have one rule for duelling. One. You. Do. Not. Wield.” His shadows squeezed, until Portia screamed and something audibly snapped in her wrist. When he let go, her arm dangled limply. She cradled it and instantly retreated, her eyes wide as she gaped at him.
“The next time, it will be your throat my shadows seek.” Raithe’s eyes swept over every female in attendance. “We fight with honour in the Shadow Court, and we follow orders. Fail to follow the rules your instructor sets, and you will have me to deal with. Follow them, and you will flourish. Do not disappoint me again.” With that, he strode off without a backwards glance, hisshadows trailing the ground like mist behind him. I stared at his retreating form long after he disappeared from view.
Ryvia’s wrath.He just broke her fucking wrist. A chill swept down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold. He’d saved me. Again.Debts were racking up quickly around here, and I had the feeling if I didn’t find something to report to him soon, that would be my throat his shadows crushed. I had to get out of here. I would escape this castle one way or another. I damn well refused to die in it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘The herb is only as good as its master. Nurture it, and a fine potion one shall procure.’
An Alchemist’s Guide to Herbal Remedies
The castle apothecary was blissfully quiet, sequestered in the eastern wing in a ward that was scarcely travelled by anyone other than the occasional servant. The healer was a no-nonsense female who ran a tight ship, but despite her regimented routine, Margaery had a softer side, too. I could see the care she put into her craft—felt her love for it, like I loved the science of alchemy. Being down here in the quiet calm was much more preferable to the chaos of the castle beyond.
I still couldn’t believe what Raithe had done to Portia. How casually he’d snapped the bone. How cold and calculated he’d been, as if his punishment was just a slap on the wrist. But I supposed with a father like his, he’d probably faced much worse growing up. And I couldn’t forget how old the captain was … all the things he must have seen and done.
I sighed as I gathered some valerian root and mint from the bushels drying in a row above the bench, then set them in a mortar and pestle. The tincture, once ground and made into a tea, would help some noble male or female sleep better, or at least ease their nerves. I could have used a cup myself.
The steady grinding as I twisted the pestle was a comfort as I looked around the apothecary. It was generously supplied, with all manner of herbs and spices from Mithria and beyond. A dream—my dream, in fact, to have such a store one day. There was something to be said for the quiet, easy rhythm of plucking herbs and amplifying their properties. The most unassuming herb could be the deadliest foe. The most beautiful flower could be an enemy’s downfall. I wasn’t only curious about the poisonous types, of course, but I’d learned their uses from my mother when I was a child.
She’d also loved working in the apothecary, but Father had put a stop to the hobby after a time. Perhaps he’d grown paranoid that she’d poison him. I wouldn’t have blamed her.
Shit.My stomach did a little somersault as the thought popped into my head. My mother, who had once participated in the Rite and who had likely been in this very room long ago, perhaps even preparing the same tincture. I dumped the mortar and pestle onto the workbench and rushed to a shelf where Margaery kept all her records.
She’d have me reprimanded if she caught me snooping, but it was worth the risk. I ran my finger over the tomes. Purchase orders, recipes, several books about herbs and their uses, and stocktakes. I grabbed one of the latter. It pried open with a creak, and I glanced down at the first page. Name, date, item… Yes, this was exactly what I needed.
With a snap, I shut the book and popped it back on the shelf, then scanned the date of the journal on the spine. We were in Adamantium Age ? now, but Mother would have been heresometime in Onyx Age ?. Each of the five Ages lasted 100 years and represented the cycle of life—the Bronze Age, which represented birth; the Silver Age, which represented growth; the Golden Age, highlighting prosperity; the Onyx Age, representing calamity; and then the Adamantium Age, finishing off with death. The cycle restarted with the Bronze Age. Each full cycle of 500 years was counted numerically as ?.
Past records must be stored somewhere, though, given the lifespan of a Fae, it would need to be a large space. And given the Rite was an ancient tradition … I frowned. There must be hundreds, thousands of tomes to go through.Fuck. I didn’t need to find a small library. I needed to find a damn archive.
“Working hard, I see,” a husky voice said in the stillness.
I jumped, then tilted my head as I turned to its owner. “Tending to our court’s many needs, I see.”
Raithe smiled as he prowled into the small chamber. “I’ve been waiting for a report, Lockhart. I don’t like waiting.” He advanced, forcing me to retreat a few steps until I bumped into the shelf.
“I’ve been a tad busy trying not to get killed,” I replied a little breathlessly. Gods. This male and the way my body wanted to bend in fright before him.
“Ah, yes, the fanged one.” He smirked. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
