Page 47 of Brutal Fae King
“Are you seriously trying to spar with mewhen I’ve told you I’ve never held a sword before?!” I snarl.
He backsteps, and his eyes hone in on me again.
“En Garde,” he says again.
He steps forward, and I force myself to keep my eyes open. He’s being slow with it. I swing my own sword down in an axe motion. He switches his grip and holds his blade up to block my strike. My swordclangsagainst the other one, and I yelp and drop my blade.
“Ow! My hands!”
The shuddering of the impact seemed to crackle through my bones, leaving my hands tingling in pins and needles. He starts cackling. He’s forced to lower his sword, hand on his knees as he laughs.
“I told you!” I snap. “I’ve never done this before!”
“It’s true!” he cackles. “That’s truly as good as you can do!”
He keeps laughing at me. A flare of anger pulses through me, and I hold my sword up.
“En Garde, you bastard!” I snarl.
The king looks at me, and whilst the grin lowers, he just shakes his head and holds his own sword up. I charge forward, and he parries easily. I keep swinging, but he keeps blocking itlike it’s nothing. After a while, I’m panting and sweating, and eventually, I swing the sword down in a tired overhead strike. He just blocks it with his sword and then steps forward and grabs my wrists.
“Stop,” he says. “That’s enough.”
“Oh, what?” I challenge. “I’ve embarrassed myself enough?”
“Embarrassed yourself?” he asks, frowning.
“That’s why you did this, isn’t it?” I demand. “You wanted to see me humiliate myself as a power play! You already stole me from my village! Took me from my sister! How much more power do youneed?”
His eyes darken. His grip tightens on my wrist, and his sword bears down on my own. He strides forward, easing me backward a few steps. My back touches the wall.
“I need enough to make sure you couldn’t kill me,” he growls.
He uses his sword to flick my own out of my hand. I just let it fall away.
“If you think I’m trying to kill you, then just let me go home!” I beg. “I’m sure there’s a way we can figure out how to get me homeandkeep to the prophecy!”
He just leans back a little, frowning in confusion.
“After everything, you’d still rather go home? You just became queen. I thought you were making grand plans with that.”
“OfcourseI’d rather go home!” I snap back.
“Why?” he asks. “The squadron with the healer arrived this morning. They say Thawallow is a plague-ridden cesspool.”
“It is!” I cry. “But is Maribelle okay?! Please tell me she is all right!”
His eyes soften just a touch.
“Apparently, she ails, but she’s still in the final stages of Weeping Fever—longer than she should be if she was going to die,” he says. “Nothing’s promised, but it’s a good sign she might be on the road to recovery.”
I close my eyes as relief swells in me. I almost sag to the ground—only his hand gripping my wrists keeps me from deflating.
“Truly?” he asks quietly after a moment. “You truly only care about that?”
“Of course I do!”I howl. “There’s nothing elsetocare about!”
My gaze snaps back up to him. He’s looking at me with a look in his eyes I’ve never seen before.
