He moves to meet me at the centre.
Each motion braced with fiend-like power.
He's armour-less, leaving only his regular burgundy uniform. All prestigious ornaments removed. Even without the armour, his powerful stature remains superior with those Spartan shoulders, every bulging muscle wrought from iron. The top part of his hair is tied in a loose bun, the rest free to reach the end of his neck. Idle strands of ink caress the sides of his face.
The tempo of my heartbeat jolts, my calm veers off into a mute frenzy.
"Those were ancient Aevlin stances," he points out. Each word uttered with a deep rumble. "How did you come to learn of it?"
My heart hammers in my chest and my pulse drums beneath my skin.
Groping for words, I string them together. "And how did you come to find me?"
I rotate to the side to turn my gaze ahead, pretending to view the ever-evolving scenery. But that breath-taking splendour pales in comparison to what stands near me. Rising heat in my face burns my cheeks in prickly singes. Ragged by discomfort, I tightly cross my arms, in fear that my heart may soon burst.
"I was not looking for you...but I found you." I frown. A veiled depth to his words, layered by enigma. "I do not care how safe they claim the Citadel is. I will always make certain that those in my custody are well-guarded. Always."
His duty. Of course.
"Now, will you answer me?"
Words roil in my stomach, strangling my insides before I vomit them out.
"Perhaps if you spar with me." What on Urium, Adalia!
"...What?"
I step back, scanning the unrailed platform, unprotected from a fall of death with just one blunder. I rather take those odds. My eyes dart around his face, but never in those onyx eyes. "If you spar with me. I will tell you what you wish to know."
He prowls towards me with ominous intent. I move away until we start to circle each other, going round and round the square-shaped platform. Shadows shifting over our moving forms.
"You dare challenge me?"
I shrug innocently, observing him vigilantly. "I long for a worthy opponent. But in the absence of one, I shall have to settle for you."
He shakes his head reproachfully, a dread-inducing smirk cracks his stony mask. "Know your place, Hera."
My jaw trembles and I clench it into stillness. Steeling my resolve. My fingers curl into ready fists. "Then put me in my place," I provoke.
His arm twitches—a bolt of black lightning—I narrowly evade the strike. I swivel around as we swap positions. In retaliation, my foot hits his mineral-hard stomach.. he barely flinches.
He glances down and flashes another deadly smirk. "Cute."
"I have only just begun."
We collide, executing a plenitude of expert moves. He muses my strikes and I endure his, studying his movements, analysing his fight pattern, and searching for his weaknesses. That's if he has any. However, I have notice that he depends on his dominant right side, nevertheless; he is inarguably skilled. Most soldiers alike to his size hinge on their strength, but Primus Kelan utilises both speed and agility. A formidable fighter.
I sweep beneath a kick, shooting up my forearms to block a jarring smack that shudders my bones. I can barely block his attacks before the next one comes. I unleash a barrage of punches and his body jerks from one direction to the other, in rhythm to the opposite line of each attack. Dodging with enviable speed.
Out facing him, I spin around with one fist outstretched, using the momentum generated to put force behind the resulting contact. He evades the tornado of fists. Amidst the clash of arms and legs, I catch glimpses of his bestial grin.
I leap, throwing kicks mid-air, both of which he smacks away.
I launch a jab—he sidesteps—he seizes my wrist, yanking me towards him, spinning me around so my back crashes against his ironbound chest. My arms jut up, and with his, he locks me in his iron grip, my arms crossed and squashed against my chest. A scorching supernova explodes from within, scalding my skin where his touches mine in breath-stealing velocities.
I squirm to break free, but my efforts are as futile as my will to escape his hold.
"I must admit. I am impressed," he whispers. His words tumble down the back of my neck and the hair erects as every inch of my body tautens. His praise echoes through me. "You are a commendable fighter."
My chest rises and falls steadily. My breathlessness goes beyond fatigue.
I can feel his heartbeat resonating through my skin, thundering with my own.
I clear my throat too many times. "Not too bad for a woman. Now, do you mind...please...let go of me."
Gradually, the steel cage unlocks. I slip past and turn to face him.
"But there is always room for improvement," he says. His eyes a-gleam like blackened waters at night. "I will assess the full extent of your abilities next time, when I have returned. For the subsequent test, you will need to know more than combat."
"Next time?" I ask too optimistically.
"Yes, a...private lesson."
I blink several times, rewinding the scene in my mind. "Wait... when you return? Where are you going?"
He folds his burly arms. "We need to precure horses and a new carousine for the next location. And I must ride out to the Avangard bastion up north, to request for more soldiers to be positioned along the journey at certain checkpoints."
"Why do you have to go personally?" It seems the whim of words is ruling over me this day.
The corner of his plump lips draws to one side. "A summoning can only be done by one of my rank. I must demand an emergency council. The attack, and the emergence of this mysterious plague all but confirm the return of the Ulris."
I nod slowly. "You think there is more to it?"
He nods grimly. "When the Vulkra attacked. It was a slaughter. They were too easily thwarted, and that concerns me. I think it was a plot to have us change our newly chartered route. I need to gauge the ambit of this looming peril. And have Avangard forces ready to obliterate their efforts, and send them back into hiding."
I risk a glance. He clings to my gaze. I cannot escape it.
"I need to take half of my soldiers, but the rest will remain. Will..." he wavers, severing eye contact for a high-strung moment. Tension filling the crevice of silence. "Will you fare well in my absence?" The words shoot out like arrows from his mouth. The question is delivered in a straight shot.
I wrestle with a smile, and I slide my hand down the back of my neck.
Face to the ground, I say, "As you have witnessed. I can take care of myself."
We lapse into a fraught silence, strained by unsaid words.
I dare to glance back at him. An emotion flares in his gaze, too fast to identify.
"You have twilight eyes," he declares. He takes a silent moment to view them like he's beholding a summer sunrise. "First...they were sweet green, like grass glistening with dew after morning rain. But every time I look into them, they seem to vary into a profusion of hues."
I fling my gaze, anywhere else.
"Now they are such a bright blue, almost otherworldly." He moves swiftly, stopping once he towers over me. "Do I unsettle you? Does my presence cause you... discomfort?"
Studiously avoiding eye contact, I say, "Of course not," I blurt, fearing I would choke on the lie. "Why would it?"
"Then look at me."
My insides clench like a torqued in bow. "And what will that prove?"
"Nothing. For my own reassurance, I need to see you before I go. Let me see your eyes."
I brace myself, lifting my gaze until twilight meets with night. His mere gaze embraces me more tangibly than any pair of hands ever could. And I know; I accept that I will be forever lost in those two infinite black holes.
I don't know what it is. But fate has forged something between us, as unseen and as palpable as wind, alike to the contiuum of sky and sea. A tangible tether that strangely binds us together but also keeps us apart like a constant push and pull. The daunting awareness of one another...as if we had known each other in another life.
"Be safe for me, Adalia." My name like a knee-weaking caress. "I should return by the fourth noontide."
He observes me, his gaze piercing, overwhelming as it is insatiable. Then only after a few more beholding moments pass. He eventually rotates and draws back into the shadows. Our encounter thaws like a dream once one wakes.
I turn my gaze back to the scenery. Dawn arises, the orange brilliance unpeeling, first light unfurling across the sky. Something more than the fiery sun, blossoming.
Not long after Primus Kelan left, us purebloods, are beckoned for breakfast at the same place as before in the palace; at the balcony. But this time Vince is nowhere to be found and his absence is all too prominent as his presence.
My mind vibrates with theories.
***
I sit at the vanity, inspecting my sharpened and polished blades, waiting on Green Earl Moray's summoning. The two thigh holsters and scabbards are positioned neatly alongside the daggers. I pick up my father's one, a rare quillon dagger. My thumb runs up to the hilt, brushing against the glass-like handle. The guard of the dagger is bejewelled with pale white minerals.
The noontide sun shines through all the archways. Sunlight pours into the chambers like smelted gold. I hold up the dagger to the light and the once pale minerals ignite into a spectacle of shimmering white. I glance back at the smiling reflection in the mirror. I spot a forest-green figure far behind me beside the open entrance.
I drop the dagger back down—it rattles a thud—I swivel around on the backless seat.
"Apologies, Hera Adalia," he says, bowing his head. "Green Earl Moray requests an audience with you."
A palace guard. That much is made clear by the intricate threads of his emerald uniform.
My eyes dart back at the daggers. It's clearly too late to take them with me.
I rise from the seat, smoothing out my skirt. "Of course."
I follow the guard out of my chambers. A metre between us as we travel through the long, single corridor, out of the annex, crossing the bridges. A suspended network of paved plank wood, intersecting between the structures that surround the palace. Today there are noticeably fewer guards and more Terra aristocrats that gallivant amidst the foliage-adorned labyrinth.
A rough hand snatches my wrist—I whip around.
Rimnick.
"Hera Adalia," he says with mutual surprise. His voice is fashioned from inherent devilry. A certain malicious ring to his tenor, that solidifies the impression that what he utters will either be callous or deceptive.
I wrench my hand from him. My periphery shrinks as I hone my vision on him solely. I hear the guard march towards me from behind. I toss up a halting hand. The marching stops.
"I have been deprived of the honour of having your audience."
The wind blows its breath in his dirty brown hair, sieved with darker fringes. The hair on the sides is shaved, leaving all the tresses in the centre to cascade over his forehead. His hair parted up the middle.
"Such an honour is reserved for those who are deserving," I say, flashing him an insincere smile. "Herem."
Rimnick lets out a dark chuckle, it sparks a malevolent gleam in those vacuous eyes. A dreary brown, but I swear there's a red like tint of blood that occupies the place where pupils should be. His face is ever engraved with a smug look, like there's something he knows that I do not.
"You have a sharp tongue," he says. "Be careful or you might see it cut."
I incline my head. "Did you stop me just to pass hollow threats?"
His smirk bursts into a grin; even full, it still looks cruel. "Only the opposite. I wanted to congratulate you and extol your humble efforts thus far. You are not as pitiful as we all expected. Even Green Earl Moray took a liking to you or..." His gaze trails over me, claiming a long, lingering once-over. Making me excruciatingly uncomfortable. "Other parts of you."
I look away immediately. "So, you have been watching me...I'm flattered," I say dryly.
Another dark chuckle. "Everyone is watching you, you are watching the others, and Duce Merian is watching us all. Somehow these idiotic tests, foreign excursions, diplomatic expeditions will somehow prove the worth of a king. So, if I have to play the part. I do not mind putting on a performance."
He takes a forbidding step closer, thinning the air around me. "As I am sure you have as well. I am certain you hide many tricks besides archery. Alas, the Trials will force them all out. Or perhaps." A deadened look shadows his face like the hood of a cowl. "One of us will."
He dips his torso forward into a mock bow, looking up at me haughtily. "Hera."
Rimnick lengthens back to full height, spins on his heels, and strides away in the opposite direction. His long-sleeved, floor-length jacket billows behind him. It must be some kind of morbid talent to turn a colour as warm and bright as yellow into something gloomy and portentous.
I rotate back around, motioning for the guard to continue.
I am led back into the glistening glass palace. Two levels up, I am ushered to another private balcony, similar in its aesthetic to where we dine. But this one is private and relatively smaller with a spectacular view overlooking the Citadel; from public edifices to residential dwellings that wind up the numerous colossal trees. In the centre there is a circular table neither big, nor small, enough to fit the assortments on top. Green Earl Moray sits at the one side with his back towards me. His sprawling antlers soak in the sunlight, each limb basking in the warm beams.
He's overseen by his own guards that wear similar clothes to him. Heavy, long-sleeved brown clothing with an emblem embossed into the material at their rear. A Ficus tree circled by a thick ring. I inhale a breath, lighting up a heart-melting smile. I round the guards to stand at the other side of the table with a vacant seat that I assume is for me. Once I'm in his field of view, all four eyes broaden with excitement. He gestures expansively to me with an irregular-shaped glass of water in his one hand.
"Well, is it not my favourite candidate?" he says with a welcoming smile. "Please, sit and make yourself comfortable."
I nod gratefully, seating myself on the chair positioned to face the placid scenery.
"I'm honoured, only a day has passed and I'm already your favourite," I say. My gaze skims through the options on the table. An empty glass with a platter of both dark purple and luscious green grapes accompany the large jar of water.
Moray snorts a laugh. His three-talon hand signals to the water with a flourish. His one guard reacts promptly and takes the jar of water, filling the empty glass beside it until the tip. Then he hands it to me.
I thank him with a smile. He returns to his post, both arms folded behind him.
"I prefer you over the others. All of them mouth platitudes, but even inebriated, I could see right through their disingenuousness. They reeked of vice." He brings the glass to his reedy lips and with one inhale, gulps down half of its content. "Except for Herem Vince, he's a fine lad, that one. He has a glorious vision for this realm, what it can be rather than how it is."
My smile perseveres. "I can agree that it is wise to look to the future. And hopefully, I will be in yours." I take a sip of the water, but once the refreshing cold touches my tongue. A sip turns into a long draw, vacuuming more than half of the water.
"Hm," he hums thoughtfully. "Herem Dario presented me with a similar proposal. He owns mainly farmlands, but his holdings do include vineyards. And I know they are well taken care of since his Regnum is supplied with our very own earth globs."
I replenish my lungs with a deep inhale, placing the glass down beside me. "That may be so, but Regnum Cypress, as you said, majors in farmlands. Regnum Valwa possesses mostly vineyards for the intentions of wine-making and other enterprises."
All four of his eyes set on me.
Suppressing my own smirk, I say, "Like many others, our produce has maintained health throughout the cycles without the need of earth globs. My father has been inventive over time, instead of isolating his harvest. He merged them."
I look back at him, and a smile of intrigue expands on his face.
I lift my bare leg from out of the slit, crossing it over the other. "You see, my father found ordinary wine...dull. So he incorporated various fruits into the wine, wild berries, pinket, mulkap, and many others to create a medley of taste. With a sweet citrus zest to diminish the natural bitterness. Fresh bottles that come in many flavours."
If it's even possible. His smile stretches further. "I must confess. Before I came here, I already sent a scout to examine the Regnum's holdings. Not a reflection on you personally, but the Black Death is spreading like a disease through the lands. I need to make sure that I do not invest in something that has already succumbed to this plague."
I nod, smiling reassuringly. "I understand. That is good business. The last time I visited one of our estates, at the last full sun, the crops were as ever fruitful. Though with the emergence of this plague, I cannot say. Since I'm all the way here."
Moray shifts his torso to the one side, facing me. He rests his elbow on the head of his chair, the glass of water dangling from his hand. "If my scout reports back to me that your holdings are untouched by this blight. I am more than eager to foster a new alliance with Regnum Valwa. But to protect my interests, I will supply you with Cosian."
Holding the glass, he lifts one talon to point it at me. "Earth globs are like fertilisers. Greatly enhanced to nourish the soils and promote faster and excellent plant growth. If the Black Death reaches your holding, all the earth globs in the world will not aid you."
I lean back into my seat, twisting my shoulders to face him. "I assume Cosian can?"
He bops a bouncy nod. "Cosian's magic is light as fine powder that will provide a layer of protection over any crop. Because this Black Death is most certainly being done by dark magic. Powerful as well, since it's claimed the lives of many farmlands from the time of your advent until now."
My face hardens, staling like Agnes's bread when it's left out for too long. "I see that this peril threatens us all, and I hope with this new alliance you can aid my Regnum. However, anything concerning our holdings will need his seal of approval."
"I can arrange to send over all documentations to your Regnum. Do you think he will accept?"
I flare a brow. "He would be a fool not to."
"Well, he is the Domus of Regnum Valwa. I imagine he's many things, but a fool is not one of them."
I nod pointedly. "Exactly. A partnership like this ensures our food security. And it quenches the collective thirst of his patrons. Now in return, he sells you an assemblage of his finest wines imbued with saccharine flavours, and you can share in his oenological genius."
Moray extends his arm, holding out the glass to me. I pick up my own to clink it with his in jubilee.
Moray glances over his shoulder and says, "Ulake lem tum vas norwa."
Shortly, one of his guards appears on my other plank and presents me with a wooden-like ring. I take it, looking back at Moray questioningly.
"To signify our newfound alliance," he enlightens. "It's a way to represent our union, but it doesn't limit you to only me. You may enlist other potential purchasers once I sample your father's genius for myself. I will personally endorse you to other Green Earls that are... like-minded to me."
I take a brief moment to study the ring. It's not wood per se, but it's like thin ropes of vines that form this crosswise look in the shape of an X. I slide it on my middle finger and seconds later it thaws into my skin, imprinting the patterned version of the ring as a tattoo; dark brown with two interwoven bands, and within them, it appears to be the design of his emblem. The same that both he and his guards bear.
"Uh..." I struggle off. My eyes locked on the permanent-looking tattoo. "Is this permanent?"
He nods casually. "It will endure as long as our alliance holds, if it succeeds your death. Then yes, it's permanent," he says with pure nonchalance.
Apparently, it must be a common custom to brand, or mark their partners with tattoos without their knowledge or even a simple warning. By the way, Adalia, if it will concern you. Once you put on the ring it will morph into an everlasting tattoo, like we are now betrothed.
In fear of offending, I say, "For the benefit of my Regnum, and hopefully those after me. Let it be permanent then."
"It has been a pleasure as always, Hera," he says and stares off into the distance. "If your father accepts, by the time you return to your Regnum, hopefully with a crown on your head. I will supply your father with the first delivery."
"And you as well," I say. I rise from my seat, ready to depart. "I hope your scout delivers good news and if it does. May I ask if you inform me?"
He nods eagerly, whilst he speaks, I round the vacated seat.
"As you wish, and many good fortunes to you during the tournament at tomorrow's noontide. I hear this cycle will be a heart-stopper."
I break to a halt. I rotate my head to look back at him.
"What tournament?"