by Olivia Ash
A beautiful girl—with long, blonde hair, soft, pale skin, and a figure that put all others to shame—he’d never seen before stood across the room near the refreshment table, elegant and graceful. He felt drawn to her the moment he stepped into the main banquet hall. It wasn’t just her beauty that attracted him but her poise, the way she held herself, the sense of something other about her that was utterly entrancing. No other woman could compare.
He couldn’t look away, even when the girl on his arm, who’d been throwing herself at him for the last week, giggled.
“Nadia and Alice will be so jealous that I came to the ball with you. I can’t wait to see their faces.”
Without looking at her, he said, “If you’ll excuse me, Jasmine. I see someone I need to speak with.” As she pouted, he untangled himself from her even as she continued to clutch his arm and started across the room toward the mystery girl.
Her gaze locked onto his almost the second he moved, and his heart lurched in his chest. Everyone and everything around him disappeared as Edric walked toward her. It was as if they were the only two people in the whole room. She was so utterly entrancing, he couldn’t think beyond her. He didn’t want to.
A hand on his shoulder stopped him mid-stride. He whirled around to see the wraith-shifter, Andreas Hylt, dressed in his finest black and silver uniform, dark hair slicked back.
“If this was a different occasion, you would lose that hand,” Edric said.
Andreas sniffed. “If this was a different occasion, you’d already be on the ground, yielding to my sword.”
“If I remember the last time we sparred, it was you who yielded to my sword,” Edric said, pointing a finger at Andreas’s chest.
Andreas shrugged. “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure I had my dagger pressed against the femoral artery in your leg, when the master at arms commanded us to stop.”
Edric nodded and gave a little smile. It wasn’t often that the castle guards trained or sparred with the wraiths, as their physicality and combat methods were so diverse. But Harold, the master of arms, thought it would be a great exercise and learning opportunity for the new recruits to see a battle between a human and a wraith. Edric vividly remembered that sparring match they had a few years ago. It was the most evenly matched bout he’d ever had. The wraith shifter was a superior fighter; he had to give him that.
“What are you doing here?” Edric asked.
Andreas arched one eyebrow and made a gesture toward the mystery girl. “Obviously, the same thing you are.”
Edric looked around and noticed just about every eligible suitor at the gala was making his way over to where the beauty stood. The other young women in the room were starting to notice and seemed nervous that they wouldn’t have anyone left to dance with.
“She is extraordinary,” Edric admitted as he glanced back to the girl. She was definitely watching him and a pleasant shiver rushed down his back.
“I won’t argue with you there.” Andreas also looked her way.
Someone cleared his throat behind them. “Let me guess…”
Surprised, both Edric and Andreas turned to Ezekiel, one of the castle’s best sorcerers.
The young man smirked. “The two of you are arguing on who’s going to get the girl first.”
Andreas narrowed his eyes at the new arrival. “I’m surprised to see you here, Zeke. You never leave the castle.”
He tilted his nose in the air, placing his arms behind his back. “I thought I’d take part in the mating rituals.”
“You have a better chance at sleeping with your books than any of these girls,” Andreas said, elbowing Edric in the ribs. “Especially if you use the term mating rituals.”
Edric laughed.
“Now, Andreas, don’t try and be clever. That doesn’t suit you. You need a brain to be clever.” Ezekiel tapped his finger against his forehead and grinned.
Andreas frowned, clenched his fists, and took a step forward. Edric put a hand out to stop him advancing. “Don’t be foolish. This is not the time or place.”
Since the three of them were boys, running amok through the academy and the castle, Ezekiel was always able to get under the wraith’s skin. Edric figured “being supremely annoying” was just another one of the sorcerer’s magical skills.
“I’m here because I needed a distraction from a rather disappointing spell.” He rubbed his knuckles against his leg. Edric noticed they were a bit red, obviously healing from something. “And that girl is the most interesting distraction I’ve ever seen.”
It was no surprise to Edric that the three of them were locked in a sort of combat again. They’d been rivals since they could all walk. Zeke didn’t wield a sword like he and Andreas did, but his magic carried just as much of a sting. He’d been on the receiving end of a well-aimed spell before. He carried the scar on his torso from where it had burned him, just as Zeke had one on his shoulder where Edric’s blade had cut through his leather jerkin. Andreas also carried scars from Edric and Zeke, souvenirs of their childhood games of strength and wit and bravery that took them out to the woods unsupervised, and then from their clashes on the training field.
“Since we’re all here,” Andreas said, “I propose we set up a friendly little wager.”
“Oh, here we go.” Zeke shook his head, but his eyes told Edric he was eager for it. He was always up for whatever game Andreas taunted them into. The wraith had always been the one to challenge them to something dangerous and forbidden. He was instrumental in all their secret trips to the Witch Woods to engage in something daring and stupid.
“Go on,” Edric said.
“We’ll work together to get the girl away from the others, then once we have, we can compete for her hand.” Andreas smiled, obviously rather proud of himself for the challenge he came up with.
Edric glanced at Zeke, who shrugged.
A woman spoke from behind them. “Women are not to be bartered or traded off in a contest.”
All three men turned on their heels to see the mystery girl, glaring at them, a hand on her beautifully curved hip. Edric was astonished that she was able to sneak over, unheard by any of them. He had enhanced hearing, honed from his years of training and natural skill, but even he hadn’t heard a thing. Not one footstep or so much as the rustle of her dress.
She’d moved quickly and silently… which was extremely intriguing. With every passing second, this girl got more interesting.
“How dare you consider me as some prize to be fought over and won,” she said, her voice clipped with annoyance.
Andreas and Zeke both gaped at her like puppies being scolded. Edric had never seen the two of them speechless before. Especially Zeke. The sorcerer could usually talk his way out of anything, clumsily, but Edric had seen it work a dozen times or more over the years.
Up close, the young woman was even more breathtaking. Her blue eyes flashed like the hottest part of a flame and her delicate jaw line actually clenched. It sent another pleasant shiver down his back. Anger radiated off her, and he had to tamp down the urge to grin in awe at her fierceness.
He’d never met a woman with so much power, both physically and internally, emanating from within. Not even the duchess exuded this much authority and strength. His gaze took in the cut of her shoulders and leanness of her arms. From the tone of her muscles, she looked like she’d wielded more than a paintbrush or a knitting needle. He knew of some noble women who learned to fence with a light, thin sword called a rapier which pirates from the open seas off of the kingdom of Ondia were rumored to flourish. Maybe she was such a woman.
All he knew at that exact moment was that she was extraordinary, and no matter what it took, she would be his.
In his mind, the contest had already begun. And the prize was the best he’d ever seen in his lifetime. She was a stunning woman, and he felt drawn to her on a deep level, as if the magic of Ripthorn itself compelled him to pursue her.
Chapter Fourteen
Sophia
Annoyed
, with her hands on her hips, Sophia surveyed the three men standing before her. As best she could tell, the other part of her soul resided in one of them. It disappointed her, though, that her soul would seek out someone who would think of wooing women as a sport, like these three. She expected better of Edric and Andreas. She thought them to be men of honor. She couldn’t have been wrong about them, surely.
Since she’d never seen the third man before, she didn’t have a bead on him, but there was something familiar about him. He was certainly attractive, with short sandy blond hair and pleasant, green eyes. There was a playfulness to him she liked, especially in the way he looked at her, like they already shared a secret.
“We meant no disrespect, my lady.” The third man gave her a little bow. “I’m Ezekiel Wickham. A sorcerer of Nighthelm.”
She eyed him curiously, taking in his tall, lean frame and sharp manner of dress. A sorcerer. She’d never met one up close and personal. She never thought a sorcerer would be so alluring. He was definitely not like the dodgy, old man she’d seen lighting lamps inside a wealthy estate home. She couldn’t see this man working for any stuffy old noble family.
The other two snapped to attention, most likely urged by her interest in Ezekiel, and introduced themselves. She had to press her lips shut, as she couldn’t let them know she already knew who they both were.
Edric gave a sharp nod. “I’m Commander Edric Axton of the castle guard.”
“And I’m Andreas Hylt, the greatest wraith shifter to ever live.” He smiled, heavily putting on the charm.
The other two rolled their eyes at their companion’s boast. Sophia nearly did as well, but she held back because he wasn’t necessarily wrong. She’d seen him fight. He was fierce and strong and brave.
“May we have your name,” Ezekiel said.
“I’m Sophia…” She hesitated for a moment, wondering if she was truly going to go through with her charade. “Oxford.”
“A relation to Lord Oxford?” Edric asked.
Sophia nodded. “Yes, he’s my uncle.”
He smiled. “I never thought Lord Oxford would have such beautiful relations.”
“Well, sometimes genetics can be surprising,” she said.
All three men chuckled.
“So true, Sophia,” Ezekiel said. “Take our friend Andreas here. You’d never know he was made of shadow and smoke.”
Andreas scowled. “I’d be careful Zeke, if you don’t wish to be turned into smoke by my blade.”
“This is not the place to be talking about swords and such. Not in front of such a lady,” Edric said.
“Oh, I don’t mind. I know my way around a blade.”
All three men gaped at her.
“You do?” Andreas asked.
Whoops. “Yes, I uh, have brothers who are both trained. One time, they let me hold a sword.” Gag. If only they knew I could spar with all of them like a warrior. I could give them all a run for their coins.
Well, maybe not the sorcerer, as she hadn’t seen him fight. But she imagined he could wield magic like no one else. Her gaze took in his hands and fingers, and she had a sudden image of those hands on her. Her body flooded with warmth. She really hoped her cheeks weren’t flushed.
“Were they trained here?” Edric asked, interrupting Sophia’s rather wanton thoughts. “I’ve not heard of any soldiers named Oxford.”
“Oh no, we’re from…” Think girl, think. Remember the books you’ve read. “Rheland. My brothers trained in the army there.”
Ezekiel perked up. “Rheland is a charming city. I’ve traveled there extensively, as well as Ondia, and Verheim. You must know the Templetons.”
She stared wide-eyed at Ezekiel unsure of what to say. She didn’t know anyone named Templeton, and she sure as shit couldn’t make something up that would remotely be truthful. He would know instantly that she was lying, then her whole charade would fall apart. Instead, Sophia turned to Andreas. “Are you going to ask me to dance?”
His eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly recovered and offered his hand. “Of course. It would be my pleasure.”
The moment she placed her hand in his, a little jolt of electricity zipped through her. He flinched a little, and she wondered if he’d felt the same thing. Sophia let him lead her out to the dance floor where several couples already waltzed. He spun her around, slid his hand down to the small of her back and glided her around the floor like an expert.
She’d never danced with anyone before. She’d studied the steps; Grindel had made sure to teach her proper etiquette although she suspected he’d never thought she would ever be in a need to use it. She knew what hand went where, and when to step to the right or to the left. It was all kinds of different with an actual partner; an attractive male partner, especially one as tall as Andreas.
He towered over her by almost a foot, but as he moved her around the dance floor, he made her feel just as tall. Just as imposing. Others on the floor moved out of their way, until it was like they were the only two dancing.
When the music ended, Andreas walked her back to where Edric and Ezekiel stood waiting. Her head swam with musical notes and the floaty feeling of the dance. She didn’t realize something like that could feel so good. She wanted to do it again.
And she did.
This time with Edric.
He was almost as tall as Andreas, but most definitely wider. He held her close as they waltzed, and she felt protected and safe in his arms. Her body thrummed with energy at his nearness. It was as if nothing could touch her on the dance floor. Even if a thousand enemies came after her, she knew they would never be able to get to her, to hurt her. Edric would protect her. It was a strange thing to feel all that during one spin around the floor.
Her next dance was with Ezekiel. He spun her around in circles, making her dizzy with joy. They laughed together, as they danced across the floor. At one point, they were going in the opposite direction as the rest of the couples, but Sophia didn’t care. She was having too much fun. By the time the music ended and they came back to the others, she was breathing hard and her heart felt lighter. Her problems didn’t seem as daunting as before.
“Thank you for the dance,” she said.
Ezekiel bowed deeply. “My pleasure, my lady.”
“I’m not a lady, but I appreciate the gesture.”
Edric handed her a goblet of mead. She’d mentioned in passing that she preferred mead to wine, but was surprised he’d gotten it for her.
Andreas offered her a plate of her favorite pastries. He must’ve noticed the ones she’d been eating before when she’d been talking earlier with Claudine.
Their attentiveness was almost too much, but she appreciated the fact that they kept away all the other suitors, including Winston, who stood nearby, glaring over the rim of his wine cup. Other glares were aimed her way as well. By the other young women in the room. They were obviously displeased with her monopoly of the most attractive men at the gala. She had to tamp down the urge to gloat openly especially when she spied the big-nosed girl and the girl with the dark hair glowering in the corner.
As she drank and ate and laughed, Sophia relaxed around the three men. Each regaled her with stories about aspects of their lives, trying to outdo one another. They all boasted of the skills they each possessed, and she wished she could do the same. But alas, she was not Sophia, trained warrior, protector of Nighthelm, she was Sophia Oxford, sought after debutante in a tight dress and uncomfortable shoes. She wondered if anyone would notice if she took hers off and paraded around barefoot.
To her surprise, the duchess appeared next to their group, and interrupted Ezekiel in the middle of his telling about a spell gone bad. Each of the men, bowed a little in respect to the duchess.
“Good evening Lady Tryst,” Edric said.
“Evening, Commander Axton,” she responded, and then looked at Andreas and Ezekiel. “Andreas, Ezekiel.”
“Duchess,” both Andreas and Ezekiel said.
Up close, the
duchess was stunning. Sophia didn’t know her age, but her pale skin was flawless. There was not one imperfection visible. The blue of her eyes was like the ice that sometimes froze on Ghost Light pond in winter. Cold, yet beautiful. Dangerous when prodded too hard.
“I make a point to know all my subjects individually,” the duchess smiled at Sophia, “but I have not had the privilege to meet you, my dear.”
“I’m Sophia Oxford.”
The duchess narrowed her icy blue eyes. “Lord Oxford never said he had such a beautiful niece.”
Despite the compliment, Sophia wasn’t impressed with the duchess. She dressed royally with jewels on her ears, and on her fingers, with a large, ruby pendant hanging from a silver chain around her throat, but she was no queen, however much she acted like one.
“I was under the impression, Lady Tryst, that you are the steward of the throne, a ward of the castle, and not its ruler, and therefore have no subjects.” Sophia knew she shouldn’t say such things, but sometimes her mouth had a mind of its own. Grindel often reminded her of that.
The men were silent; Edric looked like he might react, though both Andreas and Ezekiel smirked with approval behind the duchess’s back.
Sophia expected a barbed retort, maybe even a call for the guards to remove her, but instead the duchess nodded her head regally. “I will bid you a good night. Enjoy the rest of the gala.”
The duchess moved away from them, addressing others in the ballroom, with a smile and a tilt of her head, seemingly unaffected by what Sophia had uttered.
All three men stared at Sophia.
“Who the heck are you?” Ezekiel laughed. “I have never seen anyone speak to the duchess that way. I’m in awe.”
In her periphery, Sophia spotted Grindel speaking with another professor, and she strategically stepped in front of Andreas to stay hidden. If he found her here, Grindel would definitely find some way to make her life even more miserable than it was. It was time to wrap this evening up and return to the woods.
She looked around and saw a set of doors leading out to the garden. It was her escape route.