The Broken Kingdoms of Osvolta (Kingdoms of Osvolta #1)

30. Strengths and Weaknesses

Chapter thirty

Strengths and Weaknesses

I t was unseasonably hot. Arid winds, drawn up from the Scorch, mingled with the intense humidity of Torrelin, caused sweat to drip down Solveig’s back. She weaved, bobbed, and parried strikes from her two opponents as the sun baked them. They’d been sparring since dawn, hoping to beat the heat, but it had come on thick and fast that morning.

The down time brought on from her injuries had left her horribly out of shape. Her skills weren’t as sharp as she needed them to be. More than once, she had unintentionally left herself open to a killing blow that neither opponent had spotted. She was distracted. It had been two days since the prince’s arrival in Torrelin and the catastrophic events at The Gathering. She’d spent minimal time at the castle since then, beyond eating and sleeping. Instead, choosing to spend most of her time at the Hydromancer’s guild honing her skills and avoiding him.

Solveig’s breaths grew laboured, but so were her opponents. She focused back on the surrounding fight, trying to read their manoeuvres before they made them. She feinted left. Distracting one before knocking his feet out from under him, grabbing hold of his sword as it flung from his grip. Brandishing it at his throat as she met the remaining opponent strike for strike one handed. In a split-second decision, Solveig flipped the sword in the air. Manoeuvring to knock out the opponent on the ground with the pommel, before facing the remaining attacker with both swords. She trapped his blade between her twin ones, pulling it from his grasp before crossing her blades at his neck.

Slow clapping rang out behind her from the edge of the training field. Solveig spun. Wooden swords falling to the ground in favour of her real daggers. She found the blue flame eyes of Prince Emmerich slowly dragging up and down her sweat drenched frame. Dressed as she was in a blue vest and skin-tight leather pants, his gaze bordered on inappropriate.

The princess stowed her daggers in the holster at her hips. Shaking her head as she helped her opponent back to his feet. “How’d you find me?”

“I made friends with your lady’s maid this morning when she delivered my breakfast. It was all too easy to charm her into divulging your whereabouts.”

“I’ll be having words with Teris about my privacy tonight,” Solveig said, shouldering past the prince without a glance to grab her skin of water.

“Don’t blame her,” he chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest as he continued to watch her. “If you hadn’t been avoiding me for the last two days, she would have been too busy tending to you. As it is, she was merely doing her king’s bidding; he did order us to work together.”

“I wasn’t aware that this was a matter of urgency,” she said, feigning indifference as she sipped her water.

“As lovely as your kingdom is, Princess, I’d prefer to make it home before the snow traps me here until spring.”

“You can leave now for all I care.” She turned to stride across the fields back toward the guild, but the prince reached for her arm, bringing her to a stop. Solveig’s gaze landed on where their bare skin touched. Lightning spread through her blood.

“Let. Go.” He immediately dropped her arm as though she had burned him, though his eyes remained fixed on where he’d touched her.

“I get it, alright. You’re the big, bad, Dark Princess. You don’t trust anyone.” He took a step closer, crowding her space. “Well, I don’t trust you either, but like it or not, we have a common enemy here. Surely, we can put our differences aside for the sake of that.”

“Not likely,” she scoffed, stepping back to give herself some much-needed space.

Emmerich sighed, head tipping back as he rubbed his eyes. “What’s it going to take to get you to work with me?”

“I would rather eat dirt, six feet under, gasping for every drop of air than spend another minute alone with you.”

“Now, now,” he berated, cocking his head to one side as he appraised her. “We both know that was a lie. In fact, I’d be willing to bet there’s something we could learn from each other.”

Solveig’s muscles stiffened as she turned from him. “There is nothing I need or want from you,” she called over her shoulder as she walked away.

“I heard your magic is weak. I could help train you, and you could teach me some of those fancy fighting moves.”

Solveig stopped on the spot, head falling back, to stare at the cloudless sky. “You’re welcome to spend as much time at all the guilds as you want, but as I said, there is nothing I need nor want from you.” Her head spun, gaze piercing his. “Now leave before I use your throat for target practice.”

Emmerich held up his hands in defeat. Humour danced in his eyes as he walked toward her. “No need for that, Princess. How about we use those actual targets and practice together?” He gestured to the sheets pinned to the perimeter wall of the guild.

“Do what you like, but don’t blame me if you end today with steel lodged in you.”

“Aren’t you vicious?” He said with a laugh. “I think you might be protesting a little too much.” He took another step, so close now their booted feet touched. “Do I get under your skin?” he whispered. The soft exhale sending shivers racing up her arms despite the heat. Emmerich didn’t miss the gooseflesh they left in their wake. “Grab those daggers, Princess. What do you say? Best of five?” He threw his own dagger at a target, hitting the bullseye dead on. Solveig had never been one to back down from a challenge. She wasn’t about to now. Without turning to face the target, she whipped a blade from her holster, letting it arc through the air to the centre of the bullseye.

“And here I thought you learned your lesson at The Gathering.” She smirked as Emmerich blinked at the direct hit she’d managed whilst staring at him. Using fish for moving targets had finally paid off.

The prince was good, though she loathed to admit it. She watched him narrowly miss the bullseye on his last attempt. Smiling to herself, she stepped up, taking mere seconds to aim. Her dagger arched through the air, striking straight through the bullseye, one last time as she turned to face him.

“Thank you for the practice.” She grinned, a cunning gleam in her eyes. “It was truly helpful .”

“How so?”

“We’re even now. You know my weakness and I know yours.” Arms folding across her chest, she looked him up and down.

“What weakness would that be?” he laughed.

Solveig was standing in the same position he had when he challenged her, toe to toe, until she could feel his breaths skitter across her check as she whispered. “When did you injure your left arm, Prince?”

She noticed his body stiffen beside her, giving him away as he tried to deny it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Solveig slowly tilted her head, watching him intently. “Now, now,” she parroted his own words back at him. “We both know that was a lie.” Their eyes met, as the prince did not confirm or deny her suspicions because he knew she didn’t need him to. She was a hunter, a killer, practised in spotting and exploiting weaknesses.

“No skilled prince fights one handed by choice, and you made every single throw with your right hand. All signs point to an old injury that didn’t heal right.”

“Or perhaps I’m merely that good,” he whispered, leaning in closer. “Perhaps I don’t need both arms to win.”

“Then you’re in dire need of more practice, Prince. If you ever hope to beat me, that is.” She smirked, stepping away finally so they could both breathe. “My magic may be weak, Prince, but at least I can win a fight without it. Can you honestly say the same?”