by Auryn Hadley
He didn't slow, just took the other side. Twenty-five men had been loosed on him. Together they could take it, but they couldn't do it without injury. Leyli felt fire on her leg. A moment later pain screamed from her shoulder when she reached out too far. It didn't matter. They may have gotten a wound, but she paid them for it in death. Behind her, Tristan did the same. Above them, the crowd screamed, thrilled to see something so exciting.
She killed without remorse until there was only one man left before her. When she smashed her shield into his to knock him off balance, her sword wasn't the only one that took the final blow. Tristan's arm reached over her shoulder, and both weapons landed side by side. For a moment, everything was still, then the crowd went crazy. Leyli turned to see her partner.
Blood dripped down his body, but he didn't seem to care. His eyes just took her in. "Leyli? Does Theodian know you're here?"
She shook her head. "I'm free, Tristan. My dad found me. Theodian kinda helped, and now you're free, too."
"You're really here?" He laughed. "I thought I'd never see you again."
Then he grabbed her, lifting her feet off the ground as he spun her around. They both were laughing and she hugged back as hard as he did. He set her down for a moment, looked her over, plucked at her dress, then lifted her again. That's when the sound of the crowd changed. A moment later, horns blared and the gates began to open.
"Shit," Tristan hissed. "You're not supposed to be here. That's the guards."
"No," she assured him. "I think that's my dad. It's ok, Tristan."
From every gate poured armed men wearing the royal crest. Tristan turned, looking at them in shock, but Leyli grabbed his arm. "It's ok," she promised. "You won. You're free. It's all going to be ok, now."
"And you're free?" She nodded and he grabbed her again, shoving his face into her shoulder to sigh. "And another damned pink dress," he teased. "It's really not your color."
That's when the guards reached them. Out of habit, Tristan tossed his weapons into the sand, proving that he would not fight back. They didn't care. The guards formed a box around them, then fell to attention. Behind them, a white haired man slowly limped across the sand. It was the crown on his head that made the crowd fall silent. Never before had this King entered the arena.
"Fuck," Tristan breathed. "It's the King!" He turned to her. "You once promised that you'd make sure I don't embarrass myself. I'm holding you to it."
She grinned. "Promise. When he stops before you, kneel and lower your head. Do not rise until he gives you permission. I curtsy. This is not formal, so once he gives you permission, you're fine. No one can hear what you say except the guards, and they don't care."
Ilario finally reached them, and two guards moved over to let him through, then returned to their positions. When the King stopped before them, Tristan knelt proudly, ignoring his wounds. Leyli dipped slightly, her weapons still in her hand. The King chuckled.
"And this is your Lion?"
"It is, Dad. I told you he could fight."
Tristan's head snapped up. "Ley?"
She pointed at the ground. "Not yet, Tristan."
Ilario laughed at that. "Be comfortable, boy. Those wounds look like they don't need you groveling. Leyli, I think you took some poor man's weapons."
"Right." She looked at the closest guard. "Can you please give these to Crush." She pointed at a gate. "Big, black leather, probably wondering if he'll see his gear again."
"Yes, Highness." The man took both and jogged in the direction she'd pointed.
"Highness?" Tristan asked. "Ley..."
The King waved him off. "Yes, she's my daughter. According to her, Norihame has you to thank for her survival. Is this true, Lion?"
"No, sir – "
"Majesty," Leyli corrected.
"No, Your Majesty," Tristan said again. "Leyli – I mean, the Princess..." He looked up at her and shook his head. "You're really the Princess?" Then he looked back to her father. "Majesty, the Wolf of Oberhame is the best fighter I've ever had the honor of meeting. She'd put you to shame on the field, no insult intended. I was blessed to be assigned to her, and owe her my life time and time again. Today is just one more in a string of debts I owe your daughter. I would have died for her, thinking she was just a merchant's daughter. Knowing she's the Princess?" He looked up the Leyli. "There are no words, Ley. Thank you." Then he smiled. "The fucking Princess of Norihame."
Chapter 35
At a flick of the king's fingers, one of the guards moved in to work the pin from the chain on Tristan's leg. As soon as it fell away, the King pulled a wooden sword from his belt. His attention was on Tristan.
"Do you know what this is?"
The Lion's eyes locked on it. "Yes, Majesty. That's a dream come true."
"Mm." With his other hand, Ilario pulled out his sword. "Do you know what this is?"
Slowly, Tristan looked up. "The King's sword, the one that dealt the final blow against Rhia five times over? The Flame of Oberhame?"
"Exactly." Ilario held both out. "Winning two hundred and fifty fights in the gladiatorial arena entitles you to the rudis. Your actions, though, give you a second option. Three generations ago, the last Secor retired. I believe we have need of the position, again. Are you familiar with it?"
"No, Majesty. I'm just a really bad blacksmith or a very good farmer's boy. I know nothing of court positions."
Ilario nodded slowly. "Then let me make your choice clear. Take the wood, and I will give you land, horses, and money to repay the care you gave my daughter. Take the steel, and I will chain you in servitude for the rest of your life, or until you're no longer able to use it and find a replacement."
"Dad, you can't!" Leyli hissed.
Ilario ignored her and kept going. "Take the wood and become a free man, with all the pride you've earned in the games. Take the steel and become a slave to the crown. I will make you the Heir's shadow until she becomes the ruler in her own right and even then, you will be stuck at her side. Your life will never be your own. If you take the steel, you swear to die to protect your charge."
Tristan looked to Leyli. "She. The Heir has never been a woman."
"Retire," Leyli told him. "You've earned it. You dreamed of it. Don't do this to him, Dad."
Turning back to the King, Tristan reached out, his arm pointed at the steel sword. "There is no choice, Majesty."
"That's what I thought you'd say." With a flick of his wrist, Ilario grabbed the blade and offered Tristan the hilt. "Then stand, Secor, because your position means you kneel to no one, not even me."
Leyli grabbed the wooden sword from her father's hand. "Tristan, if he won't give it to you, then I will. As the Heir to the throne of Norihame, I give your freedom back." She pressed the wood blade against his chest.
Tristan looked to the King, then down to Leyli. He laughed once. "Your father is a brilliant man. No wonder I liked you when we met. He knew this would mean more coming from you." His fingers closed over hers. "I have nothing to go home to, Ley. My girl is married. My brother will inherit the farm. I'm a really bad blacksmith. I'd rather follow you to all the foolish noble crap you do than anything else. At least this way, I'd know you're safe. All I could think of was how I'd find you and afford the twenty-five thousand Theodian paid for your title."
"I almost missed you."
He palmed the back of her head. "But you didn't. Gonna take me a bit to get used to the Princess thing, ok?"
"Actually," the King said, stepping closer, "as Secor, you don't have to. Let's take you home, Lion. I'm sure we can find someone to sew those wounds closed."
"We already have," Leyli insisted. "I'm excellent at needlepoint and sewing. He's not too bad, either."
"Not so much with the needlepoint. Maybe you can teach me."
She giggled as they turned to the gate at the far end. "Women's work."
"So? You seem to have the whole man's work thing down." Then he paused. "Ley."
She turned to find him staring up at t
he stands. He moved closer to her and draped his arm over her shoulders. "It's the last time. Do it with me?"
"Always."
Together, they lifted their arms, begging the crowd to love them. From the stands, the people rejoiced. Flowers began to drift down, along with other gifts, and they turned to see all sides. Tristan's fingers squeezed her shoulder tightly and it felt right. The few weeks they'd been apart had been an eternity, but now they were whole. They were also free.
"Remember the first time?" Leyli asked him, toying with the wooden pendant at her neck.
He nodded, looking down at her with pride. "I'll never forget it. You were so proud to still be alive – and shocked. It made me see everything differently. C'mon, pup, we need to get the Princess into a dress that isn't bloody."
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Oh yeah." He grinned, guiding her out. "I'm also realizing all those little things that suddenly make a lot more sense. Like when I told the men to treat you like the Princess of Norihame, and you blanched."
She dropped her voice, letting the crowd noise make her words private. "My cousin is trying to kill me. Succession was supposed to be from Dad to Kale to Palino, the Domn of Lanmont. Dad used an old case to justify my place as heir. That's what I couldn't tell you."
He nodded, turning serious. "How long do I have to learn politics?"
"Two weeks. You only get one to learn court manners."
"I can do it."
They entered the dark halls to congratulations from both gladiators and guards alike. Dozens of men reached over to slap the Lion's shoulder. Quite a few ducked their heads toward the royalty. Tristan glanced from one side to the other, taking it all in. That's when Merino found them.
"I'm lodging a complaint, and I will not release your records," he snapped. "The Wolf has no right to interfere in your fight, and I will be complaining about Theodian's interference, too."
From behind him, Ilario cleared his throat. Merino flapped a hand in his direction without looking. "Wolf, I don't know how you got in there – "
Leyli sighed, looking bored. "Dad, this is the one that I think knew my sale was illegal. He should probably be arrested. I'm sure Theodian would be happy to manage his gladiators while Merino awaits the trial."
"You can't do that."
Leyli pulled away from Tristan and stormed into his face, becoming the royalty the world expected. "Oh, yes, I can. You're supposed to kneel in my presence, commoner. You stand here before great men, from the King, to the Lion, to the dozens of other fighters that make me proud to say I was a part of the games, yet you think you are their better." She spit at his feet, a taunt she'd learned from Theodian's men. "You may call me Highness, you may call me Princess, or you may call me the Wolf of Oberhame, but you will kneel before me!"
Guards moved quickly, shoving him to the ground. Merino stared up, his head shaking. "What? But..."
"Princess?" a man called from behind her. "Princess Wolf?"
Tristan laughed at that. "She's busy."
"I just wanted her blessing."
Leyli held up a finger to her guards and turned to the gladiator. It was Crush, the man who'd given her weapons. "You deserve it," she said, walking to him. "What number?"
"Ninety-seven." He smiled. "When I get free, I hope to serve in the guard."
She nodded. "Then I'll watch your fight. I want to see you make smart choices, not flamboyant displays. Am I clear?"
He grinned. "Yeah. Live through it. Thank you, Highness. I'd kneel, but I think I'd – "
"Twist your gear," she finished. "I didn't expect it." Then she clasped his shoulder. "Good fight, Crush."
With a nod, he moved to the sands. Leyli stayed until the gate closed again, then turned back for Merino. Tristan was just behind her, which wasn't shocking. Her father interrogating her former owner was.
"And who did this man say he was?"
"He said he was looking for his cheating wife. They didn't seem to know each other, but when he offered me twice what her title was worth to double the number of games she was in, I would've been stupid to refuse."
"Mm," Ilario grumbled. "Could you identify him if you saw him again?"
"Yes, Majesty. He said his name was Luca."
"I see. And you'd be willing to swear to this in a judicial proceeding?"
When Merino paled, Leyli turned to the guard beside her. "Quietly find out if there's a Luca in Lanmont, please?"
"Yes, Highness."
Then she turned to the next. "Could you have a carriage brought around? I'm not going to be able to ride after fighting."
His eyes flicked to Tristan. "For two, or more?"
"Assume more. If you can find a masseuse in this town, I'll reward you for it."
He smiled. "I happen to know a few. I'd be willing to send one to the dowager suite in exchange for a chance to spar with you in the future."
"You have my word."
Ilario ordered men to have Merino detained for questions. Then he began seeking someone to care for the gladiators in his team. Theodian wasn't there, but Tristan was more than happy to recommend names of people who could be trusted. It took a while to get everything organized but, thankfully, it also gave the carriage time to make its way across town. After Crush won his match, the group left the arena to find a large royal carriage positioned in front of the gates.
"Thank you," Tristan whispered in her ear.
She glanced up at him. "You're welcome. Tomorrow we find you a horse."
"I've never touched one."
"You will." She lifted her head. "Dad, you riding with us?"
"I think that's a good way to halt a few rumors." He turned to his guard. "Leyli's horse is around back. Would you return the mounts and send someone to make apologies to Amylad? We would be happy to reschedule for the day after tomorrow, but a situation came up."
"Yes, sire. I'll have it taken care of."
The King patted his shoulder, then moved to open the door. Tristan handed Leyli into the back, and the King helped the Lion in, aware of his wounds. While the pair sat together, the King took a seat across from them, then leaned over his knees. A moment later, the whole thing began to shift.
"Alain can teach him to ride," he said, immediately understanding why they were in the carriage.
Leyli chuckled. "So can I, Dad."
"True. Use the grey mare. Also, see the weaponsmith. That sword isn't the only one he'll need."
She nodded. "Why did you give him your sword?"
"Because it's too heavy for you. Least this way I know it will stay with the throne."
She groaned in frustration. "And what about you? What if someone decides your rooms are easier to get in than mine?"
"Then the throne is secure." Ilario shrugged. "You're not going to win, girl."
"She will," Tristan muttered. "She's gotten pretty good at it."
Ilario chuckled. "Ok. I'll get another, but that one stays with him."
"Sire?" Tristan asked nervously. He looked to Leyli, but she tilted her head to her father. With a deep breath, he kept going. "Why me, sire? I don't deserve this."
"Technically, that sword gives you the right to call me Ilario, and I don't mind, boy. As to the why? My guards wouldn't let me in there, but that doesn't mean I couldn't see. Leyli told me that you were like her other half, that she could feel the extra air behind her when you weren't there. I thought she was being dramatic, but now I know she's not. From the way you two adjusted, I can only assume that feeling goes both ways."
"It's the downside of fighting tandem," he admitted. "I tried to avoid it for many years. Normally it's two men, and the bond is like that of twins. We spent every moment together for just over five months, sire."
Ilario looked between them. "Every moment?"
Tristan took a breath and ducked his head. "Yes, sir. I tried to treat the Princess like I would my sister. I couldn't think of anything else I'd fight so hard to protect. I never would have guessed she was a princess. I'm asha
med to admit that I probably exposed her to many improper things."
Ilario chuckled. "I'm sure. Your dick being one."
"No!"
"Yes," Leyli said. "Tristan, I've seen you naked. He doesn't mean sexually. Noble daughters do not share a bed with their brother."
Tristan chewed at his lips. "I'm sorry, sir."
"She's alive, she's stronger, and I think she's more confident for it. I lost a daughter one night. I got back an heir. I wish it hadn't happened, but I'm not upset with you for teaching her to survive."
"I'm going to make mistakes. I know nothing about court."
"Then make them," Ilario soothed. "Be a big, strong gladiator that will kill anyone that upsets her. Be common, be noble, it doesn't matter. No one remembers what a Secor did. The position is almost forgotten, but it's my best chance of keeping her safe. The word means follower, escort, and shadow. You have rights that not even her husband will get."
"I don't understand," Tristan admitted.
Ilario chuckled. "She can send him away. You? Let's just say that there's nothing wrong with you standing in her bath, or being alone with her in her chambers. You are her bodyguard now, in a way that few rulers ever get. You may touch her, chide her, and even use her nicknames. The bond between noble and Secor is meant to be the same as that between tandem partners."
"Really?" Leyli asked.
Her dad smiled and bobbed his head. "When you told me about him, that's when I thought of it. I had the historian check, but the laws are still there. There can only be one, and he – or she – will only protect one person. Usually it's the King, but the Heir is also a candidate, especially in times like these."
Her shoulders relaxed and Leyli dropped her head against Tristan's arm. "You deserve to retire and live out your life somewhere nice, but I'm kinda glad you aren't."
"Me, too." He hugged her against his side. "I missed you, pup. Sharp tongue and all. Maybe tonight you can show me what real wine should taste like."