by Auryn Hadley
"Promise."
Ilario cleared his throat. "It's not going to be easy. You two know that, right?"
"Yeah," Leyli said, her eyes on her partner. "But that's ok. It's easier when I don't have to do it alone."
"It really is," her father agreed. "But you've just gone from one arena into another. Court isn't any easier." He glanced at Tristan, then turned back to his daughter. "And you won't be safe until you have an heir. Being the next ruler doesn't mean either of you get to live happily ever after."
Tristan grunted, unimpressed. "It's a hell of a lot happier than waiting to die."
"No," Ilario told him. "It's the exact same thing, but in the palace, you won't always see your enemy coming."
The two gladiators shared a look. They knew he was right. They also knew they were up to it. Leyli wasn't about to let her cousin ruin the entire nation for his desires, and she knew that Tristan would keep her safe. For more than five months, she'd been so worried about hiding from it all, but not anymore. Not with the Lion beside her.
Palino thought he was getting rid of her, but he'd been so wrong. Selling her into the games wasn't the cure for his problems, it was the solution to hers. It may have cost her brother, but she'd learned how to win, gained a friend, and finally understood what it meant to suffer. It was the best preparation for wearing a crown that she could think of. She also had a lot to get even for.
She caught Tristan's eye. "We'll do what we have to, right?"
He nodded, then grabbed her hand, not caring who was watching. "Yeah, pup. Bend as much as you need, and I'll be there with you, until we finally win."
"You've already won," Ilario reminded them. "You're both free, and as safe as I can make you."
"No," she told her father. "You're talking about the wrong game. What happens on the sands isn't the hard part."
Her father looked between them. "So what do you mean?"
Tristan answered in a voice that was all too serious. "Strength isn't enough. It takes balls to make it to the top and stay there. I'm in, Wolf, until the end."
Leyli nodded, then turned to her father. "It's called king of the hill, Dad. We're pretty damned good at it. Palino will not win this game."
Epilogue
Never, in his entire life, had Tristan expected to see the palace. Not the gates, not the courtyard, and certainly not anything inside, but that's where the carriage pulled up. King Aravatti stepped out first and offered Tristan a hand. When Leyli moved to exit, it was the Lion who got the privilege of assisting, with the King beaming at them proudly. The entire ordeal felt like something in the stories his sister used to beg for, but this was real.
When they passed through the door, no one tried to stop him. There weren't any weapons aimed at his chest or any posturing by the guards, but a lot of people looked. With Leyli tucked in at his left side and both of them covered in blood and cuts, it would have been shocking if they didn't. Ironically, it wasn't that different from the games. All he had to do was look proud and strong, and the crowd accepted that he knew exactly what he was doing – but he didn't have a fucking clue.
The only thing he knew was that Leyli belonged here. Watching her march through halls made of gold and marble, he couldn't doubt that this was the life his pup deserved. How had he never seen it before? Her mannerisms were perfect. Her speech was not only educated, but polished. She hadn't even known how to curse properly when they'd first met. The only thing that shocked him was that she'd managed to survive.
A princess. Weren't they supposed to be quiet, meek, and frail? Then again, she'd been all of that, but so much more. The first time he'd seen her, sitting in that cell, he'd sworn he was walking past a goddess. Her skin had been like carved marble. Her hair was spun silk trailing over her shoulders. She looked like a damsel in distress until he'd seen her eyes. A storm lived in them, the kind that tore lives apart and barely noticed. The determination there clashed with the sweet voice he'd heard in the cell next to him, but then she spoke, proving they all belonged to the same person.
She'd nearly been his undoing. Oh, he'd never tell her that. She didn't need to know how close he'd come to making a mistake because his mind was on the goddess locked in the arena dungeon. For almost half a year, she'd kept her secrets, so he deserved this one.
They didn't say a word until she led him into a dainty suite. Lavender and cream accented everything. Flowers were the preferred pattern. It looked like the type of place his former girlfriend would have dreamed of, including the mass of servants scurrying to make it perfect. Leyli just chuckled and kept going, walking through the sitting room into a bed chamber larger than his mother's entire house. His bed in Villanelle had been large, but this one was massive. It was also covered in beautiful white lace.
On the far wall was another door. He followed his partner in, and paused. Where the previous chambers had been luxurious, this one was comfortable. The bed was a normal size. The furniture was plain wood, and the single space was meant to live and sleep in. It was also in the process of being redecorated in a hurry. Yellow bedding and pale blue walls kept the area from being too feminine, but the blood red sheets and chairs clashed.
Leyli sighed, then spoke up. "Leave it. The Lion will not die from the girlish color pallet, and I'm sure he wants nothing more than to relax. We can change this all tomorrow."
Cocking his head, he looked at her. We? He had a funny idea that she would not be lifting any chairs or hanging new curtains. "How royal of us," he teased.
She giggled and slapped his arm. "Hush. They'll want me to make every decision about how to change a maid's room into a Secor's, so don't give me that shit."
Around them, the servants sucked in a breath. It was too much. A laugh burst out before he could stop it. His precious little Wolf was still in there, and it seemed none of these people knew what to do with her. Still chuckling, he began to strip off his armored manacle.
"Ok, pup. This place have a bath?"
She jerked her thumb over her shoulder, at the frilly white bedroom they'd come through. "It's being brought up. I swear that copper tub doesn't always stay in there."
"Am I gonna smell like roses?"
"Sage." For a moment, she tried to look serious, but couldn't hold it. The smile broke through. "It's more your style than jasmine."
That's when the last buckle released, and the metal arm covering crashed to the ground at his feet. In the blink of an eye, a young man rushed to grab it, but Tristan stopped him, overly aware of the blood and gore smeared across the surface. The kid had probably never been exposed to such atrocities.
"Leave it," he snapped.
Everything froze except their heads. Chins hit their chests as all six of the servants stared at the ground. Thankfully, Leyli came to his rescue.
"A gladiator's armor is a personal thing," she explained. "Tristan will care for his own gear. But thank you. And thank you for the help at this hour. Go rest your feet. I swear we can manage."
"Thank you, Highness," an older woman said, gesturing for the rest to leave. "Congratulations on finding your Lion. Have a good night."
"Thanks, Maude. Make sure no one missed dinner, ok?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
As soon as the staff was gone, Leyli grabbed his hand and pulled him after her, back the way they'd come. In the first room, the King's voice could be heard, but she didn't go that far. Leyli paused at the tub, reaching in to test the temperature of the water.
"It's rather warm, but I'm sure you won't mind. Drop the bloody bits in the corner if you would, and lemme get rid of everyone."
"Ley," he whispered. "I'm completely lost."
She held up a finger. "I know. It's ok. Just don't ruin my rug." Then the little bitch slipped out, leaving him standing there alone.
Well, it wasn't like he needed a herd of servants to change clothes. He'd been doing it for over three years on his own. As Tristan pulled off each piece of armor, he tried to imagine someone helping him, but the only face that fit wa
s hers. He pulled at the buckles of his vambraces with a snarl. The one person who couldn't be a part of his life was the only one his mind tried to put there. A fucking princess. His pup just had to be a gods be damned Princess.
She'd been so worried about her reputation, and now he knew why. She'd nearly cried over the idea of being unsuitable for marriage, and he'd thought he had the perfect solution. He would just swoop in, teach her how to be a real gladiator, impress her with his power and strength, then make her fall at his feet when he bought her title from Merino. Oh, he'd had it all figured out. Her father would be so grateful he didn't leave her behind that he wouldn't even care he was just a farmer's son.
Then again, he'd also expected her to be a merchant's girl, or at worst a minor noble's brat. The fifteenth daughter in a string of children, maybe even some bastard from his mistress. That's how it had all worked out in his head, but he was an idiot. A complete and total fucking idiot.
And that was the second secret he was keeping. The Lion of Lenlochlien had fallen in love with the Wolf of Oberhame. He hadn't known that it wasn't just her name but her title. The only woman in the world who wouldn't find his attention at all impressive was the one he couldn't live without. Tristan unbuckled the sword belt from his chest and felt his eyes sting. The gods be damned Flame of Oberhame. The Aravatti sword that had been a symbol of the Crown for generations was in his hands, and he was daydreaming about tumbling the Heir.
His thumb traced the wolf's head carved into the hilt. It was exactly like the one around her neck. Countless times he'd stared at it, and the body beneath that wood carving. He'd promised himself that when they were both free, he'd tell her, but now he couldn't. He'd just sworn to her father that he'd take care of her, and the only thing worse than a pregnant gladiator would be an unwed and pregnant Princess.
Placing the sword on the dressing table before him, he wondered if it would have been kinder to die on the sands.
The thought barely crossed his mind when Leyli returned, the smile on her face bright enough to melt even the sorrows in his heart. No. He couldn't do that to her. The thought of seeing her cry again was more than he wanted to imagine. His precious little pup, he'd give her everything, even if she didn't know it.
In that moment, Tristan made another vow. He swore silently to all the gods that would listen, that he'd make sure she got the life she deserved. He'd put her on a pedestal and kill anyone who tried to knock her off. If he couldn't be her husband, then he'd be the man she deserved.
"Here," she said, moving to help with his greaves like she'd done so many times before.
"Ley." He tried to bat her hands away, but Leyli had always been insistent. Then he paused. "That's not your name," he breathed.
She looked up. "It is. My mother named me Leylani. Kale chose Meridia, after a warrior princess in a story he liked, and Dad gave me the Aravatti. Since I was a baby, the people I care about called me Leyli." She shrugged and went back to easing the buckles free.
"Ley, I don't belong in a palace."
"You do now."
He chuckled. "I certainly am not about to strip in front of the Princess."
She tossed the leg guard with the rest of his things. "You are, and while you get clean, I'm going to find a dress that won't shock the staff." She patted his leg. "I've seen it all before."
"Ley, I – "
With a snarl under her breath, she stood and jabbed a finger straight at his face. "Don't you dare do this to me, Tristan. I'm still the Wolf, ok? I'm your Wolf, and neither of us can roll back time. I may have to play the part with everyone outside these rooms, but in here?" She gestured around her. "This is my home. And now it's yours. I said everything I had was yours, and I meant it, even if you had no clue what I was promising."
"You're the damned Princess!"
"Ya think? That's why I didn't tell you. I knew that if you got wind of that one little fact, you'd go stupid on me, and it would get you killed!"
She was right. The feisty little bitch was right. "I'm a damned gladiator, Ley."
"Me, too."
And again. The irony of it all was just too much. He'd tried to treat her like nobility, but she was a gladiator. With a chuckle, Tristan accepted his defeat with grace. All that was left was to drop his pants and step into her expensive bathing tub in her royal chambers. Men had been hung for less, but he did it anyway.
"Hey," she said softly, moving behind him to lather his shoulders. "I tried not to lie to you, but I wasn't sure if my dad was alive or dead. If Palino had the throne, then I was going to have to start a rebellion, and I was kinda hoping you'd be on my side."
"Always." He turned, accidentally splashing water across her chest, but ignored it. "I promised forever, and I meant it. I never said it'd be easy, and I'm certainly not any good at this, but I'll always be here for you."
"Thank you."
She gestured to the water, indicating he should soak his head. Like an obedient little boy, he did, not surprised at all when she began washing his hair. Tristan decided to just give in. Leaning back against the tub, he enjoyed having a princess pamper him. In his mind it was a victory reward that no other man would get.
"Dad's sending up dinner in half an hour," she told him.
"My table manners are horrible."
She giggled. "It's just us. Me, you, and the kind of wine that should be enjoyed. He's making excuses right now, about how we're both exhausted from the stress of the fight, and that you have nothing to wear."
"I don't," he gasped, sitting up. "Ley, I can't run around the palace in that!" A wet hand flicked at his armor.
She pushed him back down. "Heir's guard wears black. King's guard is in white. The rest of the royal guard is in grey, so you'll probably have to deal with that for a few days, until we get you a set of gear."
"Um..."
She leaned closer to his ear, her breasts pressing into his back. "It's a good thing you can read, Captain. I promise you couldn't get a better recommendation."
"You?" He turned to find her shaking her head.
"Nope. Dad. The Lion of Lenlochlien's papers will have Ilario Aravatti as his reference into the Heir's Guard, and once you're properly attired, he'll present you to court and announce you formally as Secor."
"I don't know how to play this game."
"I do."
This time he was smiling. Their roles had completely switched, but he was ok with that. "Thanks, pup. I have a feeling you're going to be a good teacher." He reached up for her chin. "You also have a little gladiator on you." His wet thumb wiped away the speck of blood.
"Rinse," she commanded, then stepped away.
When his head came back up, she was across the room. He turned, following the sounds of her rummaging, and saw her before a wardrobe, a pool of stained pink silk at her feet. Across her ribs and breast was a pale pink line, the tiny dots along the edge a reminder of when he'd sewn her back together. It wasn't the only scar she owned anymore.
Dozens of marks scored her body, making it look like lace. Her golden skin was a shade that few noble women knew but all commoners saw as typical. The sun had bronzed her perfectly, leaving highlights where his eyes most wanted to fall. As she picked out a clean dress, her muscles flexed like a predator's: lean and powerful. Gone was the delicate girl she'd once been, replaced by a woman fit to rule. His eyes kept going up, and found hers waiting.
She smiled. "Stay the night?"
Tristan shook his head. "I think that's a very bad idea, pup."
"Probably, but it doesn't matter. I lost my honor when I spent months without a chaperone. I don't care what anyone says, I can't sleep without you beside me."
He heaved himself from the tub, grabbing the towel from the table beside him. "Ley, we can't cross that line." He stepped out, slowly making his way to her side. It was where he belonged.
She held her dress against her chest, her bare body peeking out from the sides. "I know. Tristan, I have to marry and get an heir. I don't have a choice."
"I know." He pulled her against him, the cloth stuck between their flesh the only thing keeping them apart. "But he'll only get the Wolf. I'll always get Leyli. Of anyone in this world, I understand. I'll always be here to remind you what it feels like to be human."
"I don't want to."
"Nor did I. The world doesn't work like that, Ley."
For the first time in her life, his Princess melted into him. Her cheek pressed into his chest and her arms curled inside his. She didn't try to stand tall or strong, she just let him hold her. They were safe, supposedly, but their freedom wasn't the dream either had wanted. They'd just found a new arena to test them, and this one might be more dangerous than the last.
"Best friends?" she asked.
He caressed her hair, hating himself for the lie he was about to say. "Yeah, pup, just friends. Forever. You and I? We have an understanding. I will not cross that line."
She nodded, but he felt dampness on his chest that didn't come from the bath. They said the gods were kind, but they were wrong. They were so wrong. He looked up at the ceiling and blinked, refusing to break before his girl. Right now, their only option was to be strong. It was something they were damned good at. At least he could take out his wrath on her damned cousin.
The idiot thought he could just claim the throne. He expected Leyli to be little more than a minor nuisance. Palino had no idea what kind of beast she'd become in her months as a gladiator. He'd learn soon enough.
The King was right. This was just another game. Tonight was their reprieve. Tomorrow, everything would start all over. Maybe he could never tell her how he felt, but they were still partners, and he wouldn't abandon her now. The Lion and the Wolf, together, they were unstoppable.
And if the Domn of Lanmont put his hands on Leyli again, he was going to get a very nasty surprise. Tristan couldn't wait to meet the bastard.
***
Not Quite the End