Page 60 of Leader

The Hatt Leader whispers something in his ear and whatever it is makes the herald sit down so Arthur can speak. “It’s my greatest honor to once again welcome the Drákons and the Russos. As you know by now, they’re here to bear witness to the Tournament, and make sure there’s no foul play when we find the next Hatt Heirs. Please join me in making my guests feel welcome.”

He waits while the Hatt spectators applaud and cheer for their Leader.

I don’t look around as I did on the first day, instead I keep my eyes on Cia who’s squirming in her seat—no doubt that’s Kai’s doing. After the first day I suggested she should have the love-egg inside her for every event, knowing she’s on the brink of coming at all times is making it hard—no pun intended—to focus on anything but her stealthy sighs and moans, and I fucking love it.

“The third and last part of the traditional Tournament is the jousting.” Arthur pauses as people shout out their excitement. “As you know, it’s not possible for everyone to meet everyone head on, so we’ve divided all the Protégés into two groups. When we have the last four, they will all face off, regardless of which group they’re in.”

Sitting back down, Arthur nods at his herald before he takes Gwenda’s hand into his. Maybe it’s because he’s young, or maybe the new Hatt Leader really is different, but he’s openly affectionate, and not afraid to touch his fiancée in public.

Not one to waste an opportunity, I squeeze Cia’s knee and lean so close my breath fans across the shell of her ear. “How are you feeling, agápi?” I ask, smirking when she squeezes her legs together.

“I hate you,” she whispers back with more want than heat in her voice.

With a chuckle, I resume my previous position, but keep my hand on her knee. Every now and then I move it higher until she bats it away, eliciting a crooked smile from me.

While Arthur’s herald explains the rules, I tune him out. I don’t give one fuck what the rules are, so instead I look across the field where the jousting will take place. Truthfully, I’m so fucking excited to see this particular event unfold. It’s the only part of the Tournament I’ve never seen before, and I’m beyond intrigued.

“Protégés, are you ready?” The herald calls out through the megaphone he’s holding to his mouth. Despite wanting to cringe away from him since it feels like he’s almost shouting straight into my fucking ear, I remain impassive. From his pocket he pulls out a white cloth with a gold lion embroidered into the fabric. He waves the scrap while booming, “For power! For glory!”

Less than ten minutes later, the first pair enter the field. Our seats are at the halfway point, so there’s no way we can miss the action when they collide. Unlike some tournaments, each round is sudden death, meaning that whoever wins the point wins the match. The highest amount of points are awarded if you manage to unseat your opponent, anything short of that can still end in a draw.

Yeah, I’m not going to do the math. Let Arthur and his council take care of that.

Even at a distance you can see the competitors, and as soon as the herald raises his arm, the horses begin to scrape their hooves into the dirt. As his arm falls to his side, they set off.

I don’t know how long it takes until they collide. Although I’m paying close attention, it’s almost as though I’m watching it in slow motion as they gallop towards each other.

And then…

Then…

The ear-piercing sounds as they collide are nothing like I imagined. There’s nothing fanciful about it as each rider rams their lance into the other. On this occasion, they both remain seated in the saddle, though one of them is forced on his back by the sheer force of the hit.

“Holy shit!” I exclaim, unable to keep my surprise in.

I squeeze Cia’s knee even harder, wishing I could have her on my lap.

As I look to the other side of her, my gaze connects with Gus’, who’s looking as stoic and bored as ever. Seriously? Why the fuck does he never get excited unless he’s deep in his cousin’s cunt? It’s sad, really.

When she took off after I’d pulled Gus off of her, I felt bad for all of ten minutes. That’s how long it took until my guilt was replaced with a newfound dislike for the fucker. I don’t know why he gets under my skin so much… yeah, that’s bullshit—of course I know.

How can she fucking forgive him? He committed the ultimate sin; he put his hands on her. In my world, it’s as simple as that. In the real world, however, I’m outvoted by three to my lonely one. Even Kai is on their side, or her side… or is it Gus’ side? Fuck, I don’t even know. It doesn’t even fucking matter. The gist of it is that they agree that we need to make it work.

Even though they haven’t said it, I know they’re afraid she really will choose one of us if we don’t get our shit together. And that’s the thing, despite her countless apologies, the words were said, and the doubt was sown.

When she uttered those words, that was the first time I’ve felt any animosity towards my agápi. But who the hell does she think she is? Laying down the law and then take off to go see her dad of all fucking people. Just why is it she keeps choosing to spend her time with people who’ve abused her trust?

“Liam,” she gasps, digging her nails into my wrist.

“Yeah?” I look at her, wondering why she’s grimacing like she’s in pain. When she pointedly looks down at my hand on her thigh, understanding finally dawns. While I’ve had a mental trip down a not so happy memory lane, I’ve increased my grip on her. “Oops,” I say dumbly, letting go completely.

Though I can feel her eyes burn into my skin, I keep my head facing away from her. And when she whispers, “You don’t have to let go completely. I like your touch,” I continue to ignore her.

Well, I’m not ignoring her as much as I’m working fucking overtime on getting my shit together. She said she was sorry, and I know she spoke the truth. There’s nothing else she can say or do. The rest is up to me to work through.

Before I know it the four with the highest scores from their match have been found, and they’re now preparing to face off against each other. Mordred, Nimueh, Isolde, and Tristan Hatt, those are the four people in the lead. Try as I might, I can’t place Isolde and Tristan. I have no recollection of them from any part of the Tournament.

Leaning across Gwenda, I ask Arthur about the four chosen ones. “Nimueh is the only girl my aunt has, and Tristan is her big brother. Mordred and Isolde are also cousins.”

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