Fireblood (13 page)

I wonder if Sebastian would truly mind, or whether Devlan just doesn’t want to ride his former friend’s horse. Regardless, I decide it’s smart to learn to ride different horses. I might not have a choice in which one I take. Best that I master riding in general.

“Jericho will take Hawken to the field shortly anyway,” Devlan continues. “For the prince’s jousting practice.” He walks over to me and stretches out a strip of gauze. “Here. Let me at least wrap your palms.” I extend my hands, and he circles them each once with fresh bandage, leaving my fingers exposed. “That way, you can still handle the reins. I don’t want you losing hold of them.”

“You truly have no faith in me.” A smile quirks up the side of my face.

He huffs. “Princess, you are far too assured of your abilities. I praise your courageousness.” He secures the gauze, checks it doesn’t slip. “But I fault you that you can be too rash and stubborn. Not letting your hands heal before you continue on will limit how much you can do with them.”

Taken aback by his criticism, I square my shoulders. “I’ll have you know, I think long and hard before doing anything. I don’t make rash decisions.”
Or else I’d have tried to escape by now
.

He crosses his arms, cranes an eyebrow. “You being here right now states otherwise.”

My lips part to argue, but I can’t. There’s no way to convince him why I must learn quickly without revealing my goal. Though it burns my insides to let him win this debate, I focus my attention on the horse instead.

I run my gauze-wrapped hand along the horse’s black coat. “What’s her name?”

Devlan steps into the stirrup and mounts his horse. “Fireblood.”

My brow shoots up. “That’s a fierce name. What does it mean?”

He looks down and extends his hand to me. “Exactly what it implies; she has fire in her blood. She’s clever and fearless, burns with determination.” A crooked smile tugs at his lips. “And she’s stubborn as hell.”

I hold his eyes for a moment, taking in their blue, penetrating gaze, then I latch onto his arm. He pulls me up, and I settle easily on the pillion, not slipping or sliding.

“I could’ve used this pillion yesterday,” I say, smoothing my dress over my dangling legs.

Devlan squeezes his legs and clicks his tongue against his teeth. Fireblood trots at his command. “Yes, well. I assume the prince liked the idea of having you as close as possible.”

I notice the space between Devlan and me and decide that maybe Sebastian did like the thought. My face heats. “But this saddle still has no place to hold on to.”

He’s silent a moment, then says, “You can hold on to me if you’re scared of falling.
Or
you can learn to balance yourself with the horse’s gait.”

I scrunch my face, feeling like I’m being tested. “Will I fall if I don’t hold on?”

He shrugs. “It’s possible.”

I look at the ground. We’re not yet out of the fenced area, and Fireblood trots slowly. “I assume it will be painful.”

“Yes, princess,” he says, no humor in his voice. “It will be very painful. You might even break a limb. At a faster pace, you could die.”

My impulse is to wrap my arms around him. But I force my arms to my side, relax, and try to feel the horse’s rhythm. I won’t be intimidated by the first knight either.

As we clear the open gate, Devlan kicks his heels and leans forward. Fireblood canters. I dig my fingers under the strap of the pillion and squeeze, wobbling from side to side. My bandages make it difficult to grip, but I’m satisfied that I’ve shown him up. I smile so wide my cheeks ache, until he kicks his heels hard and Fireblood springs over a divot in the ground.

I yelp and latch on to his waist. Devlan doesn’t say a word, but I swear I feel him shake with laughter.

After my ride with Sebastian yesterday, I figured bringing my dagger along wouldn’t be too difficult, as long as I secured it properly. The hilt now rests on top of my thigh, so it doesn’t dig into my leg. I’m only to learn how to balance today, which gives Devlan little chance of feeling the weapon on my person. A knot forms in my stomach. I’m taking a huge risk, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave it behind. Not when the thought of being alone with Devlan stirs so much anxiety. I need its comfort.

Devlan heads us in the same direction Sebastian took me the day before. Once we near the wall, he veers away from the opening close to the meadow and rides farther toward the edge of the dense woods.

He leans back and pulls the reins, bringing Fireblood to a quick stop. He allows me to slide down first. I land with an
oomph
. I still haven’t gotten used to the numbness that follows a hard ride, and my bottom is sore from yesterday.

I run my hands along my cream dress. I should’ve worn a darker color. “So am I to learn to mount?”

Not looking in my direction, he shakes out the reins and walks Fireblood over to a thin tree, where he loosely hitches her.

“I don’t think I can learn to ride her if she’s tied to a tree.”

Devlan turns on me. His brows pull together, his mouth sets in a hard line. “I don’t think, princess, you’ll be learning to do much of anything if you don’t gain some common sense.”

He advances on me, and I step backward and stumble. I look behind me, searching for someone, anyone, but we’re alone. I meet his eyes when he’s right before me, my heart beating in my throat. “What are you talking about?”

He shakes his head, runs his hand through his dark hair, and puffs out an annoyed breath. Then he stalks away from me through the line of trees.

“Wait.” I glance around, confused, then chase after him. “What is wrong with you, Devlan? What did I do?”

When I reach the wooded treeline, I’m only a few feet behind him. He spins around and pulls himself up to his full, intimidating height. His emotions aren’t masked like usual. His face is pinched, and a sneer lights his features with mock humor. “Come at me,” he orders.

I open my mouth, then shut it.

Glancing at Fireblood, I mark my steps.
Can I outrun him?
My hand hovers over my thigh, ready to hike my dress up and grab it if he takes another step closer.

He makes a “come at me” gesture with his hands, curling his fingers toward his body. “Come on, princess. Take your best shot.”

I drop my hand. “Are you serious?”

“Very.”

My stomach clenches as I step up to him and push his chest. “There. Satisfied?”

He laughs gruffly. “Really, try to take me.” His lips curl into a rare smile, but it’s full of scorn. “Oh, what’s wrong? The princess doesn’t want to get her dress dirty?”

I squint and fist my hands. Before I know what I’m doing, my hands come up and I swing at his smug face. He sidesteps all my punches. I groan, landing a blow to his shoulder.

Instead of backing away like I expect, he steps into my punch. He grabs my shoulder and wraps his arm across my chest, bringing my back against his body.

I squirm against his hold. “Get.
Off.”

He pulls me tighter to him, securing my arms to my sides so I can’t flail. His free hand reaches down and yanks up the hem of my dress. Panic spikes my system, and I go rigid with fear. As his hand roams the length of my leg, the feel of his callused palm against my skin fills me with alarm.

This isn’t happening. No, no, no
. “Stop!”

His hand pauses along my thigh—and grasps the dagger.

He jerks it from the leather sheath and holds it before me. “What did you think you would do with this?” He waves the blade back and forth. “Especially if your foe takes it from you.”

I’m mute as I stare at my own dagger aimed at me. I attempt shaking my head in response, but my movements are jerky. I tremble, unable to get to my voice.

He groans and pushes me away. I spin around and watch him examine the dagger. Frightened, I wrap my arms around my body. “How did you know?”

“That is not the right question, princess.” His eyes look up from the dagger and pin me in place. “The correct question is, how did you expect to use this with damaged hands?”

My forehead creases. “I don’t understand.” I nervously glance around at the trees. “The Eyes.”
He’s exposed me
. Any moment the Force will be here to arrest me. I spin in circles, searching for the opening along the wall.
Where is it?
I turn back toward Devlan and glare.

He tosses the dagger at me and I barely catch it. “There are no cams here. You can stop fretting.” He nods to me. “Grip the hilt,” he instructs. “Tight as you can, as if you were facing an opponent.”

Relief that I won’t be hauled off to the Oubliette spreads through me, and I breathe in the pine-scented air, regaining my wits. I try to grab the hilt as instructed, but the gauze and the ache from my sore palms prevent me from getting a good hold. “What the hell is your point, Devlan? What does this have to do with riding?” Angry tears sting my eyes, but I blink them back.

He takes a step toward me, and his voice softens. “A few more days of using the reins as per the prince’s
teaching
methods, and your hands will be a bloody mess.” He furrows his brow. “How will you then manage to fight off the Force when you can’t grasp your weapon?”

Heat splashes my cheeks. I stare up into his blue eyes, so close now. “Why don’t you just hand me over to them now and be done with it?” I ask. “Or better yet, take me out yourself.”

“You really aren’t as bright as you seem sometimes, Zara.”

“Well you…” I trail off, forgetting the words of my rant. “You called me Zara.”

He cocks his head. “You ordered me to do as such.” “But you never listen to me.”

“Ha,” he mock-laughs. His features brighten with a twist upward of his lips.
“Touché.”

A tremor works its way down my legs, and I can no longer think with so much adrenaline coursing through my body. I walk over to a tree and lean against it for support.

Devlan walks toward me slowly, his eyes trailing over me. “Yesterday,” he says, running his hand through his hair. “I knew yesterday when I sat you on the table.” He levels a look at me. “Bottoms are not supposed to make a clinking noise.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, remembering his hard eyes on me, his probing stare in the tent. At least he didn’t expose me then. Why didn’t he? Why did he wait till we were away from the Eyes? “You don’t understand. I need to have it with me.” I open my eyes and stare into his. “It was my father’s.”

Devlan takes three long strides until his tall form towers above me, barely inches between us. His eyes widen and he tips his head forward, looking at me through his dark bangs. “Your father’s.”

I nod once. He doesn’t shy away at the mention of a Taken, so I continue. “Yes. It’s all I have left of him. Before he died, he gave it to me. He said it would protect me.”

His eyes travel down my body to the dagger in my hand. He shakes his head. “Of course,” he says under his breath. “May I?”

A hollow laugh escapes me. “You’re asking
now
to take it?” He doesn’t answer. His face is set serious. I loose a heavy breath and hand it to him.

Backing up a few steps, he flips the dagger and grabs the hilt out of the air, then runs his thumb along my father’s engraved initials. “It’s a fine weapon.” He studies the blade and the small crest of the eagle and sword along the side. “And he was right to give it to you.”

I drop my gaze to the ground. “I don’t even know how to use it.”

“Sometimes,” he says, moving closer and handing it back to me, “something’s symbolism is more important than its use.” I want him to explain his theory, but before I get the words to leave my mouth, he continues. “When are you planning to make your great escape?”

I shrug my shoulders, ashamed. “I don’t know.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Things are complicated now.” I don’t know why I’m admitting this to him other than that it feels right to reveal some of the secrets weighing on my soul. My life is in his hands. He can turn me over to Sebastian, King Hart, the Force, and all will end badly for me. At least I can state my case here and now.

“Sebastian,” he says simply. His lips twist into a knowing grin. “He does care for you.”

I recoil at his bluntness. “He thinks he does.” The rough bark of the tree scratches at my bruised backside. I push away and sit in the pine straw instead. “That sounds terrible to say, but he doesn’t know me.”

Devlan joins me on the ground. He draws his leg up and rests his arm on top of his knee. “Maybe. But I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And behaves around you. He’s different.” He tosses his dark bangs out of his eyes. “You aren’t just another Court girl to him.”

Leveling a serious look at him, I stare into his blue eyes. “You sound like you know him well.”

“Don’t play games, princess,” he says. “If you have something you’d like to know of me, just ask.”

“Fine. What happened between the two of you? I’d like to know what made you come back here—” I wave my hand through the air “—to this hellish prison, after he abandoned you and betrayed your friendship.”

He’s quiet as he looks at me intently. I’m unsure if he’s going to say anything more, and heat creeps up the back of my neck as I hold his stare. “It’s complicated,” he finally answers.

I widen my eyes, urging him to continue. When he doesn’t, I say, “And? I understand as much, but why come back and become his knight commander? You’re obviously still sore over your falling out.”

He picks up a blade of pine straw and twirls it between his fingers. “One day, if I can convince you to stay at the castle, that is…” He eyes me. “I’ll explain it to you. But as we have limited time before you must meet with the prince, I suggest we get on with your riding lesson.”

“That’s it?” I huff. “You’re not going to share after you’ve made me reveal all my secrets?”

Tossing the pine straw to the ground, he stands and walks over to me, then extends his hand. “I said you could ask, not that I’d answer.” I bite my bottom lip, tempted to smack his hand away. He reaches down, careful of my injured hands, and grabs my wrist, pulling me up to stand next to him.

He’s back to being the silent, brooding first knight, and I know I’ll get nothing more out of him now. I turn, ready to ride Fireblood, when realization slams into me. I face him. “You’re not going to turn me in?”