Page 46 of Brutal Fae King
I just enjoy the sight of the smile as we make our journey to the dining room.
Chapter 15 - Ebelor
Dawn has barely broken when the king sends someone to come get me. As a queen, I’ve gotten used to sleeping late and waking later, but suddenly, a guard comes a-knocking far too early.
I blink bleary eyes as I’m led down to the courtyard by Geiton, and the king awaits me in the paved courtyard. He looks to Geiton behind me.
“Leave us,” he grunts.
Geiton bows and then leaves. I scowl; I hate how he treats the castle staff. These are people, ones with lives and interests andnames,but they’ve told me how the king has never bothered to learn anything about any one of them. Except for Bruamin, but he’s a special case it seems.
It makes my skin crawl. I was in a lesser position than them a few days ago, andImost definitely don’t deserve to be talked down to like that.
I’m brewing over my words when I look back to him—and then pause.
I realize it’s just him. On a courtyard. Alone with me. With a sword. And a dark gleam in his eye.
Oh… this might have been a mistake.
Another voice counters the first thought.But he can’t kill me! The kingdom will fall!
“Wh-what is this?” I ask. “I thought we were doing training?”
“Yes,” he answers. “But I figured that it’d be better if it was a private session.”
He leans down and picks up the sword by his side.
“You wanted to see what I do.” He tosses the sword from one hand to the other and waves it through the air. “This is what I do.”
He picks up the other sword and makes a motion like he’s trying to toss it to me. I give a shriek and step back. He smirks and then swivels it around until he’s offering me the sword by the handle.
“Wait, already?” I ask. “I’ve never held a sword before!”
“I want to see how you fare,” he says.
He's smirking at me. It’s a power play—it has to be. He wants to see me embarrass myself with this. A sneer pinches up my face. Well, I’ve handled farm tools before. I’m stronger than I look. I’m not going to give him the satisfaction.
I take hold of the end of the handle, and he releases the blade.
CLANG!
It immediately falls to the ground; I had no idea it was so heavy!
“It’s a bastard sword,” he says, smirking. “It’s two-handed.”
“You’reholding it one-handed!” I protest. “How was I supposed to know?!”
He just chuckles throatily.
“I suppose you wouldn’t,” he purrs. “But I’m a dark fae. We’re stronger. But let us make the odds even.” He changes his grip on his own sword. “En Garde.”
He steps forward, and I give a small shriek, stepping backward, holding the blade defensively in front of my face.
Something cold taps the side of my neck. I realize my eyes are squeezed shut, and I blink them open. His sword rests against my jugular, but he’s holding it carefully, twisting it to the flat of the blade so it doesn’t cut me.
“Shall we try that again?” he asks.
I growl.
