Page 14 of Kingdom of Darkness and Dragons
Her words, laced with the same poison she’d worn like perfume the night before, struck the raw, open wound of my humiliation. I straightened slowly, my muscles screaming in protest, and wiped a sweat-slicked hand across my brow. My gaze raked over her—immaculate in pristine white training leathers, her hair perfectly braided, not a single strand out of place. She was a porcelain doll, beautiful and empty.
The insult stung, not because it was untrue, but because it was a deliberate echo of Jalend’s rejection. He had chosen this. This polished cruelty over my messy truth.
“Funny,” I said, my voice low and rough. “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”
Her perfectly arched brows rose. “I beg your pardon?”
“You look like a slave,” I clarified, my tone flat and devoid of emotion. “One who’s spent the night on her knees earning her keep.”
The handful of other students nearby fell silent, their attention snapping between us. “Tell me, Valeria, does Lord Northreach know you don’t wash before coming to practice? Or does he prefer the lingering scent of his own poor judgment?”
It was a cheap shot, but I didn’t care. A collective gasp rippled through the onlookers. Valeria’s carefully constructed smile faltered, her face flushing with rage. The barb had found its mark, turning her triumph into public shame.
“You filthy little guttersnipe,” she hissed, taking a step forward. “You are nothing but common trash who got lucky.”
“And you’re a noble who acts like a whore,” I shot back, picking up my sword. “At least my station is an honest one.” I gave her a cold, dismissive smile that was a perfect mirror of Jalend's. “Now, are we going to stand here comparing pedigrees, or are you going to prove you can do something other than lie on your back?”
“Enough.”
The voice cut through the tension like a whip crack. Instructor Cassius stood at the entrance to the yard, his face a mask of grim displeasure. His gaze flickered from me to Valeria, a muscle tightening in his jaw.
“If you two have quite finished, Maybe I can start the lesson.” It wasn’t a question, but we both nodded at him.
“Seeing as you two clearly have some issues to work out, I suggest you pair up for sparring practice.”
I glanced at Valeria, dread forming in my stomach, and she glared back. Cassius clearly had a sense of humour. My gaze flickered past Valeria for a fraction of a second, landing on Jalend as he stepped into the training yard behind her. He froze, seeing the two us together, then turned away, heading for the weapons rack. I tried to ignore how my heart leapt at the sight of him and took my position with Valeria as the class formed up for sparring practice.
We moved to the designated sparring circle, the other students giving us a wide berth as if they could sense the violence simmering between us. I could feel their eyes on us, hungry for blood and drama. In my peripheral vision, I caught sight of Jalend selecting his weapons, his movements careful and deliberate. He didn't look our way.
Cassius called the start, and we began with the standard sequences—attack, parry, riposte. But there was nothing standard about the way Valeria moved. She'd improved dramatically since I'd last fought her, her technique clean and precise, her timing deadly accurate. Gone was the spoiled noble daughter who'd struggled with basic sword forms. In her place stood a predator.
"You seem distracted," she said as we circled each other, her blade weaving hypnotic patterns in the air. "Rough night?"
I didn't take the bait, focusing instead on her footwork, watching for the tells that would give away her next attack. She lunged forward with a thrust toward my ribs that I barely managed to deflect, the force of it sending vibrations up my arm.
"I suppose watching the man you thought you had run to someone better can be quite... educational," she continued conversationally, as if we were discussing the weather instead of trying to draw blood.
This time I couldn't hide my reaction. My grip tightened on my sword, and I saw her notice it with satisfaction.
"Oh yes, I can see it was." Her blade whistled past my ear as I ducked under a high cut. "Tell me, did you really think someone like Jalend would settle for used goods when he could have something pure?"
She pressed forward with a series of rapid attacks that forced me to give ground, her bladework aggressive and increasingly personal. I managed to turn her final thrust aside and counter with a cut toward her shoulder that she barely avoided.
"Something pure?" I laughed, the sound harsh and bitter. "Is that what you call a woman who spreads her legs for political advantage?"
"Better than a whore who can't keep count of how many men she's servicing," Valeria snarled, her mask of civility finally cracking. "At least I have standards."
"Standards?" I deflected another vicious thrust, this one aimed at my throat. "Your standards seem to involve targeting other women's lovers the moment their backs are turned."
"Other women's lovers?" Her smile turned razor-sharp. "Oh, my dear, sweet, naive little slave girl. Jalend was never yours. You were just... convenient. A warm body to pass the time while he waited for someone worthy of his attention."
The words hit like physical blows, each one carefully chosen to inflict maximum damage. Around us, the other sparring matches had slowed, students and instructors alike beginning to take notice of our increasingly heated exchange.
"He told me all about you, you know," she continued, pressing her attack with renewed vigour. "About how desperate you were. How you threw yourself at him like a bitch in heat. How pathetic it was to watch you convince yourself he actually cared."
I felt heat rise in my cheeks, but I forced myself to stay focused on the fight. Losing my temper was exactly what she wanted.
"And what did you offer him in return?" I asked through gritted teeth, turning aside a cut that would have opened my arm to the bone. "Your father's support? A profitable marriage alliance? Or just the novelty of fucking someone who’s fucked half the Academy?"
