Fireblood (Fireblood 1)

I shrug. “How was I supposed to get up here?” I say. “Magically levitate?” My joke gets no reaction from him. Not so much as a muscle twitch. His eyes continue to study my face. His stare is cold and hard, off-putting.

Finally, his eyes move from me to the jar. He unlatches the top and scoops the salve into his hand. “You have to think about every angle, every position, every way something can be done before the time to do it arrives.” He unfolds my hands, lightly running his thumb over the inflamed skin, then applies the ointment. It’s cold and greasy, but it immediately soothes, dousing the burning sensation.

“Why are you telling me this?” I keep my eyes trained on our hands—focus on the feel of his rough palms working the salve into mine.

He releases a heavy breath. “Because, it’s the first thing you need to learn before anything else. Even before riding a horse.” He takes my other hand and begins to treat it. “Be aware of your surroundings. Know what is around you and how to use it and your body in every situation. Even something as simple as getting atop a table.”

“Sebastian didn’t mention that while training me to ride today.” Peeking at him through my lashes, I gauge his reaction to Sebastian’s name. “Wouldn’t that be something a prince would know?”

“Princess, if things were handed to you all your life, and you never doubted they would continue to be, would you question how to attain them?”

“Nay,” I answer simply. “I suppose not.”

He bends down, grabs something from under the table, and comes back up with gauze. He wraps my hands thickly, one at a time, binding them tightly. “You seem unable to keep your hands in good condition.”

I attempt to ball my fists, but can barely move my fingers. “How am I to eat, or do anything else for that matter?”

He packs away the supplies. “You can remove the gauze tomorrow morning. The swelling should be gone by then.”

I quirk an eyebrow at his strange word for the morrow, but tuck it away. Tomorrow. I like it. “Thank you.” I watch him saunter across the tent. “Devlan?”

“Yes, princess?”

“Will I be able to ride by the afternoon, then?”

His shoulders slump. “Not if you’d like to be able to use your hands at all this week.”

I bite down on my lip. I know I can’t continue to push, but I don’t have time to waste. Now that I have the code, I’m another step closer. “What if I only do as you said,” I say, tilting my head. “Learn how to use my body to mount a horse, rather than use my hands fully?”

He turns toward me, his brow serious and furrowed. “Your determination is impressive, but I recommend waiting until next week.”

I jump down from the table. “Fine. I’ll wait.” I head toward the front of the tent. “Thank you for tending to my hands…again.” I give him a weak smile, and push back the flap.

“Princess.”

I halt my retreat, but don’t turn to face him.

“You have every intention of riding tomorrow, don’t you?”

I nod, still not looking at him. “I do.”

He nears me and steps through the tent opening. Sweeping his hand, he ushers me to walk ahead of him. “Then I have every intention of being there to make sure you don’t kill yourself.”

ELEVEN

Iimpatiently wait for Sebastian to join me for breakfast in the atrium. Today, my goals drive me forward. I’m anxious to be out there learning to ride, although the thought of Devlan teaching me knots my stomach. I pick at my bread and sausage rather than clumsily using my fork.

Sebastian’s confession from yesterday buzzes around my brain like angry bees, thoughts stinging and swarming too loudly, making it difficult to think. It was easier to formulate an escape plan when he was merely a cocky, selfish jerk who wanted to take the throne.

Hunger wins out, and I scoop the utensil from the table with a huff. My fork is pushing my link through the drizzled honey when Sebastian finally enters. Two members of the Force trail him. My stomach lurches. Suddenly my breakfast looks less appealing.

Why are they here?

“Sorry I’m late,” Sebastian says. “But there were matters to tend to this morning.” His face is hard and unreadable. He sits in the chair next to mine. Apparently the prince doesn’t have to abide by formalities. He takes a sip of water from his goblet.

“Is everything all right?” I lower my voice. My eyes want to seek out the faces of the men who beat my father, but I keep them trained on Sebastian.

He forces a smile. “Of course.” The servant places his breakfast before him. “I have joust practice today for the upcoming tournament. I would very much like you to be there.”