by Auryn Hadley
"I am," she agreed, leaning into it. "I also have to meet with Theodian again, so we can start writing up a proposal."
He claimed the chair across from her and started filling their plates. First, he passed one to her, then took the second for himself. In that moment, Leyli couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to do this every day. If she hadn't been born a princess, this would be her life. Sure, she'd be sitting in a much less impressive room, but she didn't care about that. The man across from her would be her husband, and none of the idiots vying for her hand would exist.
"Invite them to training," Tristan said, jerking her mind out of her fantasies.
Leyli's brow wrinkled. "With the guard?"
"Yeah. Kinda want to see if Plague will join us. Need someone to dump Gregori on his ass a few times, and I have a feeling you're not going to be up for it today."
She winced from the truth of his words. "And how are we going to explain that? They know a few extra mugs of beer won't keep me off the sands."
"Nope. But it will explain why you're slow and clumsy. Such a horrible hangover you have, Highness." He chuckled. "Might mean that I have to keep you for myself. I mean, my sparring partner."
She looked up with a smile. "Sure. You can keep me. Just promise me this is another thing my body will eventually get used to."
"Mm." He took a bite, then leaned back. "If you do it enough. Saying you're not going to kick me out of that bed tonight?"
Leyli put on her most innocent expression. "Gotta ride tonight. Secor's orders. Sorry."
Tristan cleared his throat and made a point of shifting in his chair. "You, my Highness, are a very bad girl."
"The worst."
The rest of breakfast went the same way. Something about Tristan was different. He seemed like he'd finally relaxed. Like whatever inner battle he'd been fighting had been won. She hoped it was because of her, but was too scared to ask. Mainly because she feared that the answer might be no. She'd rather wallow in blissful ignorance than find out that her best friend was just like all other men.
Not that it mattered. She'd done what she had to. She'd made sure that her husband couldn't use her virginity as a weapon. She'd gotten to experience what loving a man should be like, not the mere act of trying to conceive. And, no matter how much she tried to ignore it, she wanted things to stay just like this. Knowing she had Tristan - all of him - made it that much easier to think of her future married to a nobleman she did not love.
When the staff returned to clear her table, Leyli dressed for practice. She ached, but barely. The dull throbbing between her legs wasn't painful so much as a reminder. It kept the memories of his sweaty body at the front of her mind, right alongside the sparks that had burned her nerves raw. With one leg in the trousers she used for training, she paused, smiling at the air before her.
"Ley," Tristan whispered, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Do you need to crawl back in bed?"
Blood rushed into her cheeks as she wondered if he could read her mind. "No. Sorry."
"What?" he asked, helping her tug her pants higher.
"I just..."
"What," he asked again, starting to sound worried.
Tying the waist closed, she turned to face him. "I was just thinking about it."
He leaned back slightly. "Any regrets?"
"No, but I was wondering if you had them. I mean, I didn't know..."
The tension fled from his body and he smiled. "None, except my lack of title, pup. You really ok to do this? There's no reason I can't drill the men and let you speak to Theodian."
"Without a guard?"
"Temotio's good enough. He can miss a practice." Tristan cupped the side of her face. "Talk to me, Ley. I need you to tell me how much you can take. I've never been a woman, especially not the morning after. All I can do is worry."
She leaned into his hand. "It's like a sore muscle. No different than the day after you first rode a horse. I'm fine. I just can't stop thinking about it. Can't really believe we did that."
"Made love?" He moved closer. "Or would you call it sex? Did we fuck like gladiators? What was it, Ley?"
"I dunno." She did, but she wasn't sure what he wanted to hear.
Tristan knew better. "What was it, Wolf?"
Her teeth caught her lip. "Love. Definitely love. Now hand me that tunic."
She pulled it on while he strapped on an extra sword. As soon as they were dressed, the pair headed down. Tristan sent someone to invite Theodian and Plague to the practice yard, then sent another servant off to notify Leyli's guard. They were early. Both of them were anxious for a reason that had little to do with her upcoming trip. Most likely that was why neither noticed the man headed toward the same door they always used with a charming smile that looked a little fake.
"Cousin!" Palino called out. "Almost thought I'd caught your Secor sneaking around with one of his boys."
She turned, aware he meant her attire, and let her court mask take over. "Palino. Have you had the pleasure of meeting Tristan, yet?"
"No, I'm afraid I haven't." He turned, offering his hand.
Tristan took it without a word. The Secor stood half a head taller and was almost twice as wide. This close together, Palino looked exactly like the pampered noble he was. Tristan, however, looked like a killer, and his expression wasn't helping.
"Palino Sarisona, the Domn of Lanmont," Leyli introduced, "this is my Secor and close friend, Tristan Lyone, the Lion of Lenlochlien."
Her cousin's smile faltered as he struggled to keep it in place. "Well met. Rumors say you're a formidable fighter. Can you do more than pose for the crowds?"
"No." Tristan pulled his hand back, then gestured for Leyli to exit before him. "Highness?"
Leyli stepped outside, but Palino was on her heels. "More sword lessons? Can I watch?"
"I'm pretty sure the practice yard is open viewing," Leyli told him.
Tristan chuckled. "I'd invite you to join us, but would hate to soil your clothes."
"I'm sure I'll be fine," Palino said, tugging at his silk shirt. "There's more where this came from. Tell me, Leyli, are you still sewing?"
"When I can."
Her cousin smiled in a way that made her want to slap it off his face. "Maybe when you're finally married you can get back to it. I'm sure the affairs of state are horribly tedious."
Unable to think of a good answer, she turned into the stables, taking the shortcut they often used. Beside her, Palino wrinkled his nose, obviously not pleased with the smell. Tristan ignored it, even though she was sure he saw. How had she ever thought such snobbery was normal? Had she really been that oblivious before she stepped onto those sands? Even worse, had she been anything like her cousin?
When they reached the far side, a group of men jumped to their feet. Like Leyli, her guards all wore clothes appropriate for practice, except theirs were in shades of dark grey and black. Only Tristan was dressed in his formal uniform. Palino made no effort to hide his examination before chuckling at them and moving toward the stash of practice swords. The Heir's Guard all fell into a casual stance, waiting for their orders while the Domn hefted a wooden two-handed sword.
"Just looking," Tristan asked, "or did you want to get in a workout before you start the day?"
"Lord," Palino muttered.
"Secor," Tristan shot back. "The only noble who gets a title from me is the one who doesn't ask for it. Her Highness, though, has more than earned it."
Palino grunted, walking away as he swung the weapon to loosen his arm. "Sure, boy. Let's see what you learned from hacking apart slaves."
Tristan glared. "People." His hand closed on the first sword at hand. "Those slaves used to be your citizens, before you sold them off like livestock. Ley, with Temotio."
"Yes, sir," she said, making a point of finally acting meek.
Palino lifted a brow, but his eyes were on the Lion. "Seems you taught her to shut up. Impressive."
"No," Tristan promised. "I taught her how to bit
e. Little bitch is mean enough to be my partner. Ready when you are, Palino."
"After your ass hits the ground, you'll remember to call me Lord." Then the fool rushed in.
Tristan was massive. He should have been slow - and was in comparison to many smaller gladiators - but he was still faster than the Domn. Jerking aside, he let Palino stagger, avoiding the heavy handed blow, then countered, calmly tapping the man's blade with his own. When the lord spun, Tristan was ready, even though he looked more relaxed than he had on the trek over.
Leyli smiled. She knew how this would end. Tristan would easily beat the fool, Palino would make a scene, and some horrible rumor would follow. Gossip was Palino's favorite weapon, and one that nobles fell victim to all too often. She just hoped her Secor wouldn't give him too much ammunition.
The next volley was just as futile. Palino feinted, surged, then parried. Every swing of his blade collided against Tristan's. Every move was countered easily, but the gladiator made no attempt to fight back. He ducked. He dodged. He even dropped, but he never lashed out. He certainly wasn't fighting like the man Leyli knew. He was simply letting the Domn wear himself out, making it clear that the idiot couldn't even get close.
The wood cracked together. One man grunted and huffed. The other fought in near silence, only a stray breath proving that he was trying at all. Over and over they shuffled across the circle of well worn ground, dust puffing beneath their feet, until there was no doubt that Palino was not the more skilled. The man's face began to flush, not with exertion, but with anger. In one last, desperate attack, Leyli's cousin screamed like a woman and charged, heaving his sword like a club.
Tristan smiled. Twisting, he dropped his guard an inch. It was just enough, and so blatant that even Palino saw. The weapon connected, slamming into Tristan's chest, right across his ribs. The sound was like a body crashing to the ground, but the Lion barely shifted back. He did drop his sword and open his arms in defeat.
"I yield," he said a little too smugly. "It seems I've been defeated by the better swordsman. Congratulations, my Lord."
"You didn't try," Palino hissed.
Tristan cocked his head. "I'm sorry, are you trying to say I'm the more skilled fighter? Sir, must I remind you that you won that round?"
Leyli had to bite her lips to hold in the giggle. She should have known better. Somehow, Tristan had figured it out. He'd let the man win, making it clear he wasn't trying, but refused to admit it. Palino could either announce his lack of skill or accept the false victory. He had nothing to complain about, yet plenty to bruise his pride.
"Did you want to try another?" Tristan asked when Palino refused to answer.
Instead, the Domn threw the blade toward the pile. "I'll remember this, Lion."
Tristan just nodded. "I certainly hope so." Then he turned to the guard. "Enough gawking. Stretch. Ley, that means you, too."
She nodded and moved to the side, finding a comfortable spot on the ground. Like all the rest, she started with reaching for her toes, letting her back relax and flex. When she shifted her legs, parting them, she felt the ache. A moment later, a strong hand slid over her back, easing her into it.
"Arms, too, pup. Not just legs and back. You're working with a dagger today, against me." Tristan's voice was soft, meant just for her, but he knew they could be overheard.
"Maybe a short sword, if I can manage the dagger?" She looked back to find his eyes waiting.
He ducked his head once. "Sure, but I want to work slowly, to make sure you have your stances perfect. No point in building bad habits now."
"No," she agreed, knowing he was doing his best to pamper her. "None at all."
Chapter 19
Behind them, Palino stormed back to the palace, seemingly ignored by Leyli's guard. In reality, they were all watching him very carefully. When the Domn yanked open the door, a pair of men staggered in shock on the other side, quickly moving aside to let him through. Even from as far away as she sat, Leyli could recognize the brilliant yellow of Theodian's uniform.
"Our friends are here," she told Tristan.
"Mhm." He just kept kneading at her shoulders.
It didn't take long for the former gladiators to reach them. Half of Leyli's guards offered a welcoming smile. The other half were polite, but their faces said they were still trying to figure out why the man who'd been Leyli's owner was now her friend. Never mind the casual way she treated Plague. That, or Leyli could be paranoid. Women like her shouldn't have male friends of any kind, yet these eight men were the only people she would consider giving the title. She'd prefer they all got along.
"So," Theodian said, sounding chipper, "does this invitation mean we commoners get to play, or are we just here to watch, Highness?"
"You?" Leyli teased. "I didn't know you could still use a sword. I just assumed those stories were nothing but rumors."
Tristan chuckled. "I have a feeling Theodian could knock my ass on the ground a time or two."
"No," the older man assured him. "Not anymore, Lion. Been too long since my muscles had to do that kind of work. I might see it coming, but I'm too slow to do anything about it."
"Means you're still twice as fast as Horace. If you're looking for a sparing partner, that is." Tristan grinned. "I wouldn't mind if you taught him how to avoid that pike you like so much."
"That," Theodian promised, "I can do. Come, boy, let's see if you're able to be taught."
Horace groaned. "And here I thought protecting the heir to the throne would be glamorous work. Never knew I'd spend more time in the dirt than I do in court!"
"It's how you learn not to die," Plague teased.
Gregori grumbled something under his breath.
Plague pointedly raised a brow. "Wanna say that again?"
"I asked," Gregori growled loud enough for all of them to hear, "if that's why you want to fuck the Princess."
Tristan's hand clamped down on Leyli's shoulder before she could even gasp. Her eyes flicked to him, but he shook his head, his gaze locked on the two men, letting them work it out. Plague crossed his arms over his chest and lifted his chin, making it clear he was appraising the noble brat before him.
"How do you know I haven't?"
Roaring in anger, Gregori shoved to his feet, surging at the small, pale man, snagging the wooden sword out of habit. In a single motion, he swung, rushing in, using his mass and momentum in a foolish show of bravado.
Plague ducked, stepped aside, and shoved. As soon as Gregori began to stumble, the little man became a demon. Lashing out with his arm, he threw a punch to the back of the head, convincing the guardsman that the ground was exactly where he should be. Then he followed with a dirty kick to the guts, forcing Gregori to curl into the fetal position.
"Idiot!" Plague spit. "Look at me! Look at me! What the hell do you think the Wolf would see in me? Don't you realize that no man is going to crawl in her bed unless she puts him there? She's the Wolf of Oberhame! She's the bitch that will kill you when you aren't looking. The beast that fights harder when it's cornered. She is not the kind of woman a man thinks he can just fuck!" He took a step closer. "Especially not you. If you try it, I'll kill you. Slowly."
Gregori rolled, clutching at his stomach.
Plague groaned out something that was meant to be a sigh. "Get up."
"Can't... breathe."
"Get up," Plague demanded, grabbing Gregori by the shirt to haul him to his feet. "You're her damned guard, not some pussy to whine over a bruise. How are you going to save her life on your ass?"
That made the guardsman react. He shoved Plague's hand off, but only barely. "Don't act all pompous after throwing out a low blow like that."
Plague just rolled with it. "Really? Tell me, oh noble whatever the fuck title I'm supposed to call you. Do you think the man who wants to see our Wolf dead is going to fight fair? Do you think it was fair when he had her thrown onto the sands without any idea of how to hold a sword?"
"Plague," Leyli said gently.
> The pale man held up a hand, begging her to wait. His eyes never left Gregori. "You give a shit. I can see you do, which is why you're such a cock, but you have to pull your head out of your ass if you want to be any good."
Gregori forced himself to stand a hair taller. "She won't die while I'm alive."
"Mhm," Plague mumbled. "That'll only take a few seconds. So, congratulations, you just bought her enough time to scream."
Edwyn broke the stalemate. "How do we get better? Tristan's been teaching us."
Plague relaxed and stepped back, taking the pressure off Gregori, then looked at the rest of them. "Forget where you came from. Forget all the manners, rules, and ideas you were raised with. You have to change how you think, because all that should matter to the Heir's Guard is doing what it takes to keep her alive. Whatever it takes, no matter how dirty, and people will cheer your name because you keep winning. They'll praise your skill and style, not caring how dirty the tactics are. They will love you, sirs, when you win."
Armando chuckled wryly under his breath. "Never thought I'd go from a Royal Guard to a gladiator."
"Ever kill someone?" Plague asked.
Armando let his eyes close for a moment. "Yeah," he breathed. "Started in the army, doing peacekeeping. Probably not as many as you, but I've had to do it."
"The rest of you?"
Most of them shook their heads. Temotio just looked at the ground. Leyli had never thought about it. She'd had to kill men to learn how to use a sword. Her guards got to do it the other way around. She hoped they'd never need more than just the theory.
"C'mon," Plague said to Gregori. "Find a weapon and I'll show you how to move faster. You're too slow for your size."
"Gonna kick the shit out of me again?" Gregori asked, trying to make it sound like a joke but failing.
Plague chuckled. "Not quite as hard. I'll treat you the same way the Princess treated me. Fuck your pride, but you'll learn, and live to brag about it."
"Brag that I got my ass kicked by a gladiator?" Gregori scoffed at the idea.
The little man patted his shoulder as he made for the pile of practice blades. "Yeah. Brag that you lived through it. Usually raising a weapon to us means someone dies. Fight's not considered done until everyone else stops breathing. And that's exactly how they'll fight if someone wants the Wolf dead. Right now, you'll just be a nuisance to hack through. Let's make sure you hack back."