Chapter Text
“Ready for this crop of Candidates, Riorson?”
We were positioned at the top of the turret, watching as all the parents braced their children. My chest ached for something that was no longer possible before I got a damn hold of myself. Dad’s “rebellion” as everyone likes to call it, took many things from me. If only they could’ve opened their fucking eyes, then we wouldn’t be in this mess.
“Let’s see how many survive this year.” I quip, folding my arms across my chest, my face morphed to its cold indifference as the bells chimed. I had a feeling more would die today, if the storm clouds were any indication. Strange considering I never spotted any or saw a hint of rain clouds while flying last night, or was it this morning?
“It sounds like you already know the cause.” Sgaeyl huffs in my mind, she would’ve sent me straight through that storm if she saw it during our mission.
“It’s a hunch, it could be nature surprising us.” I said back, while I kept my cold composure as candidate after candidate stepped up to the parapet.
Sgaeyl growls, “I didn’t pick you for your ignorance.”
I snort out loud, forgetting to convey the feeling through my mind. Liam was crossing the parapet this year, and the fucker better not fall, or else he’ll deal with me. Knowing him, he’ll show everyone up and sprit the damn parapet, hopefully not in this weather. I’ll give him hell if he does.
More candidates either crossed or fell to their demise.
The next set of candidates stepped forward, a chatty bunch. Who has time to socialize when all of you might not make it? Starting friendships before the parapet is the worse idea, wouldn’t want to get all fucking mushy with one another then watch them die.
“Let’s go. Some of us have things to do on the other side.” A candidate called out to a stall in the line. I could already tell he was going to be a pain in the fucking ass. His voice reeked of arrogance and a special incentive to kill.
I glanced in that direction and was not prepared for what I saw. The woman was exquisite, beautiful, not enough words could ever be enough to describe her. That. Fucking. Hair. It was braided in a crown, brown to start bleeding to blade silver. I had the impulse to rip whatever was holding it to the ground so I could run my hands through it. She was small, more curves than muscle, but the determination in her hazel eyes was more than I could handle. A swirl of blue and amber I could get lost in, that sparked with brilliance half these candidates couldn’t begin to comprehend.
I glanced away before anyone, including her, caught me staring like a fool. I shifted my stance, releasing some tension from the heat that shot straight to my cock. That fucking woman will be the death of me, I can already tell.
I pretend not to notice as she watches me with the same heat I showed her. Two candidates were separating me from her. It was a good thing, I needed to keep my distance. I need to keep a clear head.
“Too late.” Sgaeyl quips in her aggressive way.
The candidate that was up, Dylan called back to the two women behind him. “See you two on the other side!” Then he walked the parapet, the sky had darkened, and I knew he was too confident to make it. He wasn’t causous, and that will be his mistake.
“Ready for the next one Riorson?”
I nod, noting the shift my name had on the woman. It was then I felt her gaze rake up my arm, from my wrist to my neck, and I knew then she saw the relic.
The next candidate, a woman with brown skin and braids flashes a determined smile to the one behind her. “You ready for this, Sorrengail?”
Violet Sorrengail?
I snap my gaze to hers. So, she’s Brennan’s littlest sister? I’m so fucked.
“Oh shit,” She whispers, her lips look soft, but I can’t let that shit distract me. Instead, I narrow my eyes, taking a step towards her.
“Sorrengail?” I inquire, glaring. Brennan said she was training to apply to the scribe's quadrant. Now that I laid my eyes on her, I can tell she would’ve been wasted there. Gods, she was fucking short, she barely reached my collarbone and had to look up at me with a completely fuckable expression. A million thoughts flashed through her eyes as she looked at me.
“Violet?” The women in front of her asks, interrupting.
“You’re General Sorrengail’s youngest.” I state, fighting the urge to clear my throat. I can’t be nice to her, I don’t know her angle yet, she could be as biased as her sister and mother, or she could be like Brennan. It’s too soon to guess without putting everything in danger.
“You’re Fen Riorson’s son.” She states back, lifting her chin defiantly. She’s got a mouth even when she’s trying not to be nervous. She didn’t spit it like an accusation or curse, just a simple note like she was studying for some test.
Fuck.
I suck in a breath, not realizing I wasn’t fucking breathing in her presence as I try to get my shit in order. “Your mother captured my father and oversaw his execution.” A muscle ticked in my jaw, damn this new hell.
Her expression flashed with rage and fuck me I got a hard on despite this conversation. She smelled of fresh ink and paper and something else I couldn’t identify. “Your father killed my older brother. Seems like we’re even.”
I inwardly flinched as fresh pain filled her eyes. There and gone. If only she’d known that wasn’t true, if only the fucking kingdom decided to get up off their asses and did something. It was his secret, and this was his sister and I couldn’t tell her shit.
“Hardly.” I say instead, letting my eyes rove over her body a second time. She was dressed in riding leathers, no only did she look good in them, she looked fucking edible. “Your sister’s a rider. Guess that explains the leathers.”
We’re enemies, get a fucking grip on your shit.
“I was thinking the same thing.” Sgaeyl draws, likely thinking me a fool. “You are.”
She continues to hold my glare as she quips back. “Guess so.”
Shit I want to touch her. My hands fist at my sides, nails biting into my palms as I continue to glare at this woman who will be the death of me. This shit can’t go on. It’s just a fucking physical reaction to her, she is the daughter of the enemy. The daughter of the woman who executed your father for doing the right thing.
My thoughts cool me down as the next woman to the parapet glances between us. “You alright?” she asks Violet.
I glance at her. “You’re friends?”
She squares her shoulders as if I give a shit. “We met on the stairs.”
I finally notice their shoes. The women about to face the parapet had a right shoe without soles, and a left one that would save her life. The opposite pair were on Violet's feet. The left one bigger on her. This woman gave her better shoe to someone else, despite the shoe being the wrong size, and likely to get her killed. “Interesting.” I said, meeting her eyes again.
“Are you going to kill me?” Well, that’s fucking blunt.
The sky finally opened, the rain pouring over the parapet. We were soaked in seconds, The other riders throwing a cloak over the candidate paper.
A scream pierces the air, coming from the parapet. That would be the too confident candidate, slipping from the rain and wind. Violet broke our stare, snapping her attention to the man. Another friend? Likely. She gasps, and I knew we would add one more name to the death toll.
“Pull yourself up, Dylan!” The other woman called. It was pointless.
“Oh gods.” Her hands flew to her mouth, I never broke my stare, not once. He will be mourned by his loved ones.
For the first time since meeting her, I’m worried. Brennan said he’d hoped she’d always be a scribe. He said she had no heart for the brutality Basgiath would bring, the hell that would fall upon her. She won’t back down, but she’s merciful in a way I admire, and fear will get her killed.
This really puts me in a shitty position. We’re enemies in the way her mother executed my father, and my father “killed” her brother. I can’t coddle her, that’s never been my way to anyone, but I also can’t let her die. Why is it always the Sorrengail’s that throw me headfirst into conflict?
I can’t tell her any of this, I can’t act any different than I would another Sorrengail. I let a wicked smile curl across my lips when she meets my eyes again. “Why should I waste my energy killing you when the parapet will do it for me?” her eyes were filled with horror, from me or from witnessing death, I don’t know. “Your turn.”