Page 33 of The Queen and the Half-blood
Alar considered her words, one long-fingered hand lifting to rub the lean line of his jaw as he observed her. Her admission had rendered him speechless.
“Are you conflicted when it comes to the Shee?” she asked then.
His gaze narrowed. “In what sense?”
“Their blood flows through your veins. Do you ever wonder if you’re on the right side?”
He snorted. “I’m the result of one reckless encounter between a Shee warrior and a Marav lass. My father tumbled my mother in a forest glade and then disappeared. I have no loyalty to the Shee.” His voice was low, yet she picked up the edge to it. This wasn’t a subject he was comfortable discussing.
Silence fell between them, broken only by the soft tinkle of the fountain. The sky above was dark now, ropes of stars twinkling overhead.
Tiredness swept over Lara then, and she raised a hand to her lips, hiding a yawn. She couldn’t wait to crawl into her furs. Today had exhausted her—as had her conversations with the Half-blood.
“Come,” Alar murmured. “Let’s go inside.”
Lara nodded, moving away from the fountain. She headed toward the archway, not waiting for him to fall into step next to her. They’d spent enough time together today.
However, she’d only gone a few steps across the smooth pavers when a lithe figure burst out from the shadows. Steel flashed in the firelight then, as a blade flew at her throat.
12: FROM THE SHADOWS
THE BLADE NEVER bit. Instead, something heavy crashed into her back, knocking her flat.
Winded, Lara gasped as she tried to suck in a breath. Meanwhile, the clang of blades rang out behind her. Scrabbling along the ground, she reached for the dagger at her side. Then, managing to draw air into her lungs now, she rolled onto her back, blade raised.
Alar was fighting her assailant.
In the light of the flickering cressets, a young Shee female wielding a longsword dueled with vicious determination. Long hair, the color of a raven’s wing, streamed behind her as she struck at Alar repeatedly. Black leather encased her tall, lean form, and she moved with the fluidity that Lara had seen in Bree when she’d been Shee.
No Marav could move like that.
However, Alar matched her. He’d drawn both his long fighting daggers and circled the Shee, pushing her away from where Lara still lay.
The sound of running feet—boots slamming against stone—intruded then.
Heaving in a lungful of air, Lara rolled to her feet and backed away from the dueling pair.
“Lara.” Bree was at her side, weapon drawn. Her gaze tracked Alar and the Shee warrior. “Where the fuck did she come from?”
“From the shadows,” Lara replied breathlessly, watching as Alar drove the warrior back farther. The fountain was now behind her. “She must have hidden herself amongst the roses.” Indeed, the banks of carpet roses were thick in places. Nonetheless, it would have been a thorny hiding place.
Steel clattered against stone as Alar bested his opponent. An instant later, the Shee warrior was sprawled on her stomach, writhing as he held her down, a knee pressed into the small of her back.
Two Marav guards were at his side then, helping him subdue her.
The Shee’s vicious curses rang against stone, shattering the peace of this rose-scented courtyard. They were binding her wrists behind her, and she wasn’t taking kindly to it.
Sheathing her dagger, Lara shivered. “She almost had me.”
Beside her, Bree was silent. She tore her gaze from the struggling captive then and looked at her warder. “I thought you had retired for the evening.”
Bree’s lips thinned. “No.”
Murmuring an oath, Lara pushed strands of hair off her face. Her attention shifted then to where Alar had risen to his feet. He stared down at his snarling captive before bending to retrieve his fighting daggers. He didn’t sheath them though. His tall, lean form tensed then, his fingers flexing around the grips of his weapons.
Meanwhile, the Marav warriors hauled the dark-haired Shee female to her feet.
“What do you want us to do with her, My Queen?” one of them grunted.
