Her gaze narrowed as she adjusted her grip on the spear shaft. With a soft growl, she charged her opponent. A slight smile tuned up the corners of her mouth as he moved to strike. She uttered a word and a ball of light exploded in front of him. Not slowing, she dropped to one knee, her lead leg extending out in front, and leaned back parallel to the ground.
His strike swished harmlessly overhead.
Using her knee, she popped back up behind him. The spear tip pressed firmly against his ribs. “You are beaten,” she declared.
Pressure against her left thigh. “Not quite, firefly.”
She stared sullenly at the practice blade and uttered a curse.
He chuckled and patted her shoulder. “That was a clever move, firefly. Were I anyone else, you would have had me.”
“But you weren’t anyone else,” she stated.
He flashed a wry grin at her. “Then I suppose you’ll just have to train harder. Think of more clever ways to use your magic and fighting techniques together.”
Her gaze flicked over his features. A fierceness danced behind her dark orbs.
“Come, firefly,” he coaxed as he draped an arm over her shoulder. “It’s time for you to get ready for the evening meal. Your mother will have my head on a pike outside the front gate if you aren’t presentable in half a candlemark.”
She threw her hands in the air in surrender and uttered another curse.
“You’d better not use that language around your mother,” he scolded. “She’ll forbid me to train you and blame me for your poor manners.” He took her spear and urged her along with the butt end. “Go!”
Hundreds of tiny braids bounced off her slender shoulders as she fidgeted under the attention of the women dressing her. The gown restricted her movements and confined her gestures.
“That’s enough, Skyden,” snapped a strong feminine voice from the doorway. “No daughter of mine will be seen at a state dinner dressed in anything less than the finest silks and brocades.”
“Then let us be thankful that this will be my last state dinner,” she shot back.
“What?”
She shoved aside the two closest women and snatched up a scroll case from her desk. With a defiant smile, she thrust it at the woman.
The older woman grabbed it up and skimmed the parchment. Her eyes widened. Face blanched and cheeks flushed. Her hands trembled as they fell to her sides. “Harland,” she hissed, spun on her heels, and was gone.
“Enough,” Skyden demanded, as the women moved to finish their work. “There’s nothing more to be done for me now.” She started down the corridor to the great dining hall where her family and a handful of guests awaited. “Apologies,” she offered, with her best curtsy.
One of the younger women giggled.
The woman, clearly her mother, slapped her arm with her fan. “It’s not polite to laugh at those who were born different from you.”
“But . . . her arm,” the girl protested.
Skyden fixed her with a withering gaze, and the girl shrank back. A wry smile turned up the corners of her lips as she took her seat to her mother’s right.
“You look lovely, firefly,” her father murmured, from his place at the head of the table. “Doesn’t she, Harland?”
The warmage seated across the table from her mother flashed a wide smile. “Radiant.”
Her mother huffed at the man.
“Why, Etheria, my beloved,” he gasped. “Whatever is the matter?”
She noticed the parchment in her mother’s lap and glanced to Harland.
He met her gaze, studied her dark orbs, and stifled a snort.
“Brother?”
Harland waved his napkin in front of his face. “Apologies, brother. I must have breathed in some of my wine.”
“Later, my beloved,” Etheria hissed.
At that, he let the matter drop and the meal commenced.
The World of Terra 