House of Shadows: Royal Houses Book Two

by K. A. Linde

  “You’re a genius!” Audria cried.

  They couldn’t cross the divide without rope, and they weren’t provided rope. But she could make do with what she had. She finally got it loose from the mooring and then swung it over to her friends. Still dangling upside from the rigging, she wriggled across the platform. For a second, her visions shifted. Suddenly, she realized that she was right side up. Her stomach hit the beam holding the platform up, and instead of inching, she crawled toward her teammates. She was so disoriented, wondering why her friends were hanging from the ceiling. She had to close her eyes and right herself again. Zina’s teachings had worked a little too well.

  Fordham held his arms out, and she dropped into them. He eased her down, sliding her body down his as he did so. “Be careful.”

  “Careful is my middle name,” she said with a wink.

  “Well, what do we do with it?” Roake asked.

  Noda held her hand out. “I was raised sailing. I can tie knots that you’ve never even heard of.”

  “There’s a hook,” Audria pointed out. “If we can throw it, we can secure it across the distance.”

  Roake grinned. “I can throw. I played Dragon Eggs back in Elsiande.”

  “Were you any good?” Noda asked.

  “Could have gone professionally in the South,” he boasted.

  “What’s Dragon Eggs?” Fordham asked.

  Roake stared at him with a slack jaw. “You’ve never heard of it?”

  Fordham shook his head. “My pop culture is lacking from all those years behind a magical barrier.”

  Roake winced. “Right, man. Sorry. It’s a sport where you have an egg-shaped ball and try to get it into a net. There’s a national league and everything.”

  Kerrigan had no idea that he’d been an athlete. That he’d given up playing a sport to come to the tournament. “You throw.”

  Noda finished her knot. Roake worked up his arms and then tossed the rope across the divide. It landed on the hook first toss, and he and Fordham yanked it tight, holding it level with the ground.

  Audria grinned. “Is this the time to say that I grew up doing acrobatic work? My mother believed in perfect balance.”

  She tested the end of the rope, putting a foot out, and then without a single ounce of fear, she walked out on the rope. Kerrigan slapped a hand over her mouth. Audria tightrope-walked like a festival performer. She was lithe and graceful. All those lessons had really worked out in her favor.

  She hopped off on the other side and properly secured the rope. Fordham tied off the end and sent the rest of them across. It was slow going since none of them had Audria’s talents. They went hand over fist across the lot of it. Then, Fordham followed, and they were all across.

  They’d completed the impossible.

  But as soon as they dropped down at the end of the last wall, they saw what awaited them. Five swords were thrust into the ground at their feet, and an ambush of sword masters raced across the arena toward them.

  Kerrigan snatched up the shortest blade and prepared herself for her final test. Lorian hadn’t told them what they were up against, but he didn’t want her to win. And she had to prove him wrong.

  There were five masters in total. One for each of them. Kerrigan only recognized one of the Society members, and of course, he was coming right for her. Master Cannon was a brutal warrior. She’d never had a class with him, but she’d watched him enough to know that he was single-handedly the deadliest swordsman in the Society. How was she supposed to fight him? She was a first year in the middle of her training. And he was the best of the best.

  She gritted her teeth and prepared for it anyway. Lorian’s work, obviously.

  “I’ll switch with you,” Fordham offered, seeing the beast of a man closing in.

  Fordham was the better sword fighter. He might even have a chance against Cannon, but she doubted that would work. She’d put money on it that Lorian had rigged it so that Cannon went solely for her.

  “I got it.”

  “You sure?”

  And then there was no time for a response. The trainees crashed together with the masters. She barely had time to raise her sword to meet Cannon’s first blow. Her arms shook with the sheer force of the strike. She was already weak from the obstacle course. Her body was slick with mud. Her left hand still bled freely. This was not a fair fight.

  But the test was that war was never a fair fight. They wouldn’t always have the advantage. They wouldn’t always be able to regroup and recover. Fordham had instilled that in her while they were training for her fight with Basem. Pain was part of the game. Sometimes, you were exhausted, and you still had to lift your sword, even against a better opponent. You still had to win.

  “Little girl,” Cannon growled.

  “Giant beast,” she snapped back, pushing his blade back enough to break his hold on her.

  She paced backward, making him come after her. There wasn’t much room, but this would have to do. Then, they danced. Strike, parry, feint, strike, dodge. They moved flawlessly through Ravendin’s twelve paces and into Chutrick’s art-of-war formations. They were evenly matched in footwork at least. Cannon had strength and years more experience than her. But she held her own.

  Until he got under her guard. The blades were blunted, but his sword crashing into her shoulder still hurt. It would leave a nasty bruise too. Kerrigan gasped. He used the moment to push his luck, slapping the handle down on her wrist and forcing her to drop her blade.

  And then she saw, for just a split second, Lorian leering over the fight from the stands. A cruel smile twisted his face as he watched his champion destroy the girl that he didn’t believe belonged. That he’d planned to destroy all along. He was using this opportunity to get her kicked out.

  She would never give him the satisfaction. That smile turned her gut to lead. Screw him. Screw him.

  Kerrigan jerked backward out of the reach of Cannon’s weapon. Getting far enough out of range that it wouldn’t mean a gutting. If Lorian wasn’t playing fair by giving her the best sword master in a century, then why should she fight fair? No magic in the arena. Sure. Fine. But that didn’t mean that this wasn’t like every other fight she’d ever had. And she didn’t always need magic for those either.

  “Fordham,” she shouted. “On me.”

  He didn’t even hesitate. He ducked his attacker’s advance and then rushed to her aid. He took the brunt of Cannon’s attack, holding off both of them for a few seconds as she dive-rolled to retrieve her weapon.

  Kerrigan came up again, swinging. Fordham remained at her side, and together, they worked as a team.

  Cannon smirked. “Clever trick. More experienced fighters have lost for less.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not most.”

  Then, she showed him the real reason for her dive roll. She threw a fistful of sand into his eyes. He cried out, retreating two whole steps as he blinked the dirt out of his eyes. He was too well trained to fully falter.

  But it was enough of an opening. Kerrigan thrust her sword past his defenses, slamming the blunted blade against his ribs. She heard a pop, and he snarled. His eyes were red with tears, and he stepped forward, as if to destroy her for the audacity. But he’d miscalculated. She put the tip of her blade to his throat.

  “The fight is over, Cannon,” a voice said from the sidelines.

  Cannon stilled, his jaw clenching. He whirled around to face who had spoken. It was Master Bastian, and he was smiling. He nodded his head at Kerrigan. Lorian was fuming. The rest of the council members were a mixed bag. Alsia seemed to be considering whether or not what had been done was entirely fair. Kress had his arms crossed, as if he agreed with Lorian’s assessment. Lockney didn’t say anything. He scribbled in a book and nodded. He was the council secretary, so perhaps it was just his duty.

  “She did not fight with honor!” Cannon snapped.

  “She did not,” Lorian agreed. “It was a disgrace to witness.”

  “But she still won,” Basti
an said. “And with both teamwork and ingenuity.”

  “Cheating is not ingenuity,” Lorian said.

  “Some would say it is, Lorian,” Alsia said. She was a tall woman with brown skin and clear eyes. She had a calm demeanor.

  Kress sniffed. “It isn’t what we look for in initiates. We’d know that if she had been in the tournament.”

  “Precisely,” Lorian argued.

  Kerrigan was breathing too hard to even comment. She braced her hands on her knees and took deep, heaving breaths. Her friends were still continuing their bouts, but hers was done.

  “You must admit that she beat our best warrior,” Bastian said.

  Helly came forward with Alura. “I didn’t even think we were using full sword masters for this event.”

  Lockney’s head jerked up. He flipped through his notebook. “It was a recent rule change. I have the official timing for you.”

  Helly arched an eyebrow. Lorian huffed.

  Ah, so he had changed the rules to suit him.

  “Cannon wasn’t on my list,” Alura said, fuming.

  “Well, she won,” Bastian said. “I believe that calls for a pass.”

  “I pass her,” Alura said.

  They all looked to Lorian. He ground his teeth together but finally nodded his head once.

  She’d passed.

  22

  The Season

  “I’ll never be clean again,” Kerrigan complained, dunking under the water once more in the underground hot spring beneath the mountain. She had been down there with Audria and Noda for two solid hours. The boys had been cleaning up in their own baths.

  “Never,” Noda agreed. She floated in the water happily.

  For a second, Kerrigan’s heart panged as she thought about Lyam and how much he would have liked Noda. How much he wanted to be on the sea again. She could have taught him to sail again. But no, he’d been murdered, and there was nothing left.

  “What are you thinking of?” Audria asked.

  “Nothing.” Kerrigan shook off her melancholy. “I’m going to sleep all weekend.”

  “Seconded,” Noda said.

  “What? No!” Audria said. “We have plans.”

  “I don’t have plans.”

  “The Season starts tonight!”

  Kerrigan groaned. “I don’t want to get dressed up and watch debs flaunt themselves before potential suitors.”

  “Isn’t your friend a deb this year? The one from the House of Dragons?”

  Kerrigan sank lower in the water. Darby was a deb this year. It was half the reason she didn’t want to go. It was hard to imagine her best friend, who had always loved women, parade herself before a bunch of unworthy men.

  “You’re going,” Audria said. “Both of you. And we’re bringing the boys too. We need to get out of here. There’s more to life than training.”

  “Is there?” Noda grumbled.

  “Yes!”

  Audria didn’t let them have an opinion. She forced the boys to put on their suits as well, and they all met an hour later to go to the first Season event. The Society offered up a carriage to take them to the Row. Kerrigan was crammed between Audria and Noda, trying not to look at Fordham and how handsome he was in that black suit with the House of Shadows insignia on a little silver pocket square. His dark hair slicked back and those impossibly gray eyes looking anywhere but at her.

  She didn’t blame him for the attention considering the scandal of a dress she was wearing. When she’d returned to her rooms, a dress in a pale blue box had been waiting on her bed with the word Parris hand-lettered on the top in gold. Parris had once been a member of the House of Dragons. He was moved into a tribe with a female fashion designer who had seen his talent. He’d opened up his own boutique under her tutelage, and he was all the rage. They’d been friends long enough that he always made room for her. Somehow, he’d given her the best dress imaginable.

  It was a black lace bodice with just enough material covering her breasts to leave a little up to the imagination. There were no sleeves, and the back dipped nearly to her hips in a generous V. The skirts were full tulle with a slit to her thigh. It was only exposed when she wanted it to be, but in the carriage, it was nearly impossible to conceal it. The Society logo had been threaded into the lace in a shimmery black thread that caught the eye and said precisely who she was.

  Audria had nearly collapsed at the sight of it. She was jealous of Kerrigan’s association with him and insisted she introduce them. Which, if they ever had time away from the mountain, she would be happy to do.

  The carriage finally came to a halting stop, and a doorman opened the door for them. He held his hand out to Audria, who gracefully stepped down onto the cobblestone steps. Kerrigan was next, not half as graceful, and then Noda. The boys tumbled out after them.

  Kerrigan sighed with displeasure at the state of the mansion. It was so large that it must have at least a hundred bedrooms. Enough space to house an entire section of the homeless population, and no one even cared. She hated this part. The belonging and not belonging.

  It was Fordham who held his arm out. “It’s a bit much?”

  “No different than the House of Shadows,” she countered. “It might have been worse.”

  “Assuredly.”

  A voice proclaimed Audria’s entrance in front of them, and Kerrigan froze, realizing that they were going to announce her.

  “I don’t want to be announced,” she whispered.

  Fordham tugged her closer. “We could just leave.”

  She laughed. “And miss all the fun?”

  “What fun?”

  “Dancing. For some reason, I remember you being quite amenable to dancing and having me… take orders,” she teased.

  His eyes dipped to her lips. “You were quite good at following orders.”

  “I was,” she breathed. Then she winked at him. “It’ll never happen again.”

  He burst into laughter just as they reached the entrance. The man at the front looked at them both in surprise at the outburst.

  “Prince Fordham Ollivier of the House of Shadows,” the man called out. “And Lady Felicity Argon, First of the House of Cruse of Bryonica, now of the House of Shadows.”

  Kerrigan stiffened. Lady Felicity. Everyone in the room turned to look at her in that moment. They all knew. They all knew exactly who she was. That she’d been abandoned for being half-Fae. It didn’t matter that she’d made her own way. None of it mattered. They were all staring.

  “It’s Kerrigan,” Fordham growled at the man. His shadows flared in the bright room, darkening everything just a touch.

  The man took a step backward, his hand flying to his chest in affront. “I must give full titles.”

  Fordham’s seething was next level, and people here didn’t know him like she did. To them, he looked utterly terrifying. A frightening sight to behold on any day. That sinister energy that always radiated off of him was choking the room. All for… her.

  Kerrigan tugged his arm, looking at all the faces full of fear. “Stop. You’re causing a scene.”

  His magic dropped as his gaze shifted back to her. “My lady.

  Kerrigan dragged him into the ballroom and out of the line of sight. “You can’t just unleash your magic like that. It was bad enough without you making it worse.”

  He stilled at the vehemence in her words. His shoulders straightened, and those thunderstorm eyes found hers. He was mad. He was still very mad that someone had presented her like that without her permission. “You wish to allow them to treat you that way?”

  “No. But we could have fixed the problem without terrifying everyone.”

  Fordham lifted an eyebrow. “What would be the fun in that?”

  Kerrigan released a breath of tension. “I’m a bad influence on you.”

  “Certainly.”

  She fought to keep the smile off of her face but failed. What Fordham had done was for her benefit, and she couldn’t be angry with him for it even if it had been extrem
e. Likely, no one would forget to call her Kerrigan ever again.

  “Quite an entrance.”

  Kerrigan turned to find Hadrian walking toward them with Clover on his arm. His bright blue hair had been tamed into a darker blue, left loose and curling on the ends, as was the fashion.

  “You know me too well.”

  Hadrian laughed and pulled her in for a hug. “Too well to know that you hate that kind of attention.”

  She shrugged. “Those days are going to have to be behind me. Now, I’m a little faerie princess.”

  Clover snorted and tugged at a loose strand of hair framing her face. Kerrigan was surprised to see her here, considering she hated these kinds of parties and hated even more wearing a dress, which was currently in. A summer green number that highlighted her brown skin and lithe figure. Even her black bob had been tangled up into a perfect little coif at the top of her head. She looked so far from the Wastes card dealer.

  “You look… feminine,” Kerrigan said with raised eyebrows.

  “Oh, shove it,” Clover said. She plucked at the swath of silk. “I hate this, but it was the only way we could think to get me inside to see Darby’s debut.”

  “I’m glad you’re here.”

  Clover picked at a loose thread on her shoulder. “Yeah. It should be entertaining at least.”

  “Darby has waited for this her entire life,” Hadrian said.

  “I know, sweetheart,” Clover drawled, falling into street slang, as she always did with Hadrian. Kerrigan could never quite decide if they were going to rip each other’s heads off or fall into bed. “Doesn’t mean it’s right.”

  Darby’s debut was far from right. Most people didn’t care one way or another who a person loved. But the aristocracy was another thing altogether. Money complicated things. Love that couldn’t produce offspring and keep the money in greedy hands was not sanctioned. It all came down to money since practically every wealthy Row gentry participated in extramarital relations with people of the same sex. It was hard to live as long as the Fae did and not at least try a little bit of everything. Sex and love were a spectrum. Marriage was another matter.