Page 57 of The Powerless Witch

It took me but a mere second to find the saidproblemand my body locked in anticipation as a figure strode through one of the open corridors, pausing at the arch that led out into the garden.

Dressed in dark green pants and a purple tunic that buttoned up to her chin, Princess Amantha looked exactly like the last time I saw her. Same golden hair, pulled out of her face, same sharp lines and pointed ears that made her appear even more inhumanly beautiful. Even the burning hate in her eyes was the same, although now it seemed muted behind a wall of forced cordiality.

I willed my body to relax, musing if I should get up to greet her or not. I decided against it. Greeting her first would show she had superiority, and that wasn’t something I wanted. She had no power over me, no claim—I was a guest of her brother and even though she was the heir to their throne, the current queen was still alive.

I caught a movement from the arched windows of the corridors and more up in the terraces. The last hope of this being a coincidental meeting shattered.

Myra got to her feet in one swift, graceful movement, bending at the waist as she turned to greet her princess. Amantha barely glanced her way before her mesmerizing purple eyes settled back on me.

She stopped a few steps away, a hand resting on her narrow hips, and smiled. I pushed myself up since with her attention obviously on me, I couldn’t keep ignoring her.

“It has been a while, Amantha.” I smiled as I let my hands fall beside my body. My fingers brushed against the blade attached to my thigh, but my skirt was in the way, so if she lunged for me now, I’d be dead before I drew it out.

“Not long enough,” she replied with a beautiful, melodic voice that contrasted drastically with the disdain on her face. I felt the knife move up my thigh, slowly sliding out of its sheath, and I considered grabbing it through the fabric. Then I remembered that air wasn’t one of Amantha’s strengths—her family’s power came from the earth. Except for Malakai, they could hardly control any other elements.

Besides, with the long blade hanging from her waist, I doubted she’d go for myirondagger.

A glance in Myra’s direction told me all that I needed to know. With her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed in concentration, I didn’t need my magic to tell she was using hers. I slipped one hand behind my back, opening my palm while the blade floated to the edge of my skirt.

“The Fae hold grudges better than anyone I know,” I said, even as sweat trickled down my spine at the idea of the blade twirling around my ankles. Iron or not, the knife could cut me as easily as it would any Fae.

The fake smile on Amantha’s face dropped when she took a small step toward me.

“We do not welcome murderers in our home. Especially you!” The last word she spat with so much venom that goosebumps spread over my skin. “Leave now and never come back, and I’ll spare your life. Stayand—”

Something cold and hard glided over my fingers, pressing urgently against my palm. I tightened my hold on the blade, feeling confidence seep into my shoulders.

“You have no right to chase me out as long as I have a bargain with your brother,” I interrupted her, and she clenched her teeth in annoyance. “The one I saved from being killed. Remember him?”

Amantha hissed like a viper that had been stepped on.

“I will not allow—” She took a step closer and Myra tensed, but before either could lunge, I let my hand slide to my side, making sure the light caught the edge of the blade. Amantha paused, her eyes narrowing at my weapon, and she scoffed—but not before I noticed the flash of apprehension in her eyes. “You claim you mean no harm to my people, yet you carry an iron blade. Makes me wonder how long it will be before someone else ends up dead.”

I smiled, raising the knife and turning it casually in my hand.

“Oh, come on, princess. You can’t blame a girl for protecting herself. Dying is not on my agenda these days.” Shrugging, I eyed the sword at her side and she tensed. “If you didn’t have your magic, I wouldn’t need this.” Wiggling the knife from the hilt, I watched Amantha’s face turn red with anger.

“Don’t.” Myra glared at me, but I ignored her as I watched the princess unbuckle her belt and slide it off her waist. Her eyes remained on mine the whole time, even when she raised her hand and flicked with her fingers. The tree beside her shuddered, leaning its branches down while two snapped off and fell right into her hand. The wood softened, straightening up until a pair of equally long, straight sticks balanced on the palm of her hand.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I held the hilt of the knife with two fingers.

“Your word, princess,” I said loud enough even for the onlookers on the terraces to hear. A muscle twitched in her cheek.

“I don’t need magic to put you in your place,” she spat, catching a stick in each hand.

I let the knife drop. The tip of the blade sunk into the earth with a dull thud and the ground shuddered, shifting beneath my feet until it swallowed it.

Shit, I didn’t expect her to do that, but there was no going back now.

“Don’t do it!” Myra hissed, moving to stand beside me. She paused before touching me, and I didn’t have to look at Amantha to know it was her glare that made herstop. Myra continued, so quietly I had to strain to hear her. “You are powerless and she is High Fae. She is stronger and faster than you. You can’t win.”

I turned, giving her a playful wink.

“I’m so sick of everyone saying that. I do not have magic, but I’m never powerless. Nobody can remain powerless when an overprotective vampire has taught them how to fight. And magic does not work on vampires.” She blinked in confusion, but I just patted her cheek before walking away. “Run along, Myra. He’ll be upset if he misses the show.”

I didn’t have to look back to know she had left—to where Malakai was, hopefully, before this little challenge ended up with another dead sibling. Or me, if she went back on her word.

I stopped a few steps away from her, grabbing the edge of my dress and tearing the front of the skirt. I had barely risen when Amantha tossed me one of the sticks. My fingers tightened around its girth, checking the weight and the balance. Good, very good, as expected of her.

---