I’m no longer there. It’s not real. I’m safe. I’m safe.
My eyelids lift, and I find myself once again on the Seboia training grounds. Darius is still watching me with that arrogant smirk.
My anger spikes at the sight and I level him with a cold glare. “The kind where soldiers burn down your gates and invade your home, slaughtering every living soul in sight. Killing males, females, and children, even babes. One where the streets flow crimson and the wails and cries of the dying slice at your soul. Your ears ring from the screeching of steel on steel, and your nostrils burn from the scent of death and fire. A battle where you selfishly fight for your own life while you watch your loved ones get cut down beside you, along with thousands of others. That's the kind of battle I've seen.”
Darius, Kace, Ajax, and Trip all look at one another uncertainly while Griffin’s gaze bores not into my eyes, but into my chest, seeing something in my aura that causes him to waver on what he believes to be true.
“There's not been a battle like that since the Battle of Brecca.” Darius tilts his head, squinting his eyes disbelievingly. “And you weren't alive then, Lena.”
A small, calloused hand laces their fingers with mine from behind and squeezes. “They know nothing of the turmoil outside their own realm,” Amara whispers gently in my ear. “You can't expect them to believe without proof. Not on something like this.”
Knowing she's right, I inhale a steadying breath and untangle my hand from hers. “Believe what you will, but it doesn't change that your teaching methods aren’t appropriate for him.”
Darius groans, then sheaths his sword on his back and folds his arms over his chest. “Since you're such an expert, what should I be training him with?”
“A short sword and a dagger,” I answer immediately. “He hasn't built up the muscle mass to handle a broadsword yet.”
“That's why we start training at an early age,” he replies in a tone as if I’m daft. “That way when he’s fully mature, he'll have the strength needed to wield it.”
Of course he should be trained in all weaponry, but from my understanding, it's the only sword Trip has worked with. He may be bigger than me, everyone seems to be bigger than me, but he'll still be smaller than the average person even once he reaches maturity. Yet he's fast. Abnormally so. With his small stature and speed, a smaller blade would be more beneficial to him, even as an adult. And Darius hasn't seemed to have addressed that obvious fact.
Unless I'm mistaken.
I frown. “What do you expect him to defend himself with now?’
“Nothing.” Brows knitted together, he stares at me in bafflement. “He’s too young to join the Guard, and if any battle were to arise, he'll be safe within these walls.”
Feeling a headache coming on, I rub my temples, disbelieving how this kingdom can be so blind to everything. It’s as if when they built their walls, they didn’t just block out the Soulless, they blocked out all common sense.
“Who's to say the walls won't be breached?” I ask. “Then neither you nor him will have a choice as to when he’ll see his first battle, and everything you taught him won't make a lick of difference because you’re teaching him to defend himself as an adult, when he’s not one.”
He growls in frustration, his broad chest straining at his vest with the motion. “If the walls were to be breached, which I'll add is not possible, the guards would protect him.”
I raise a challenging brow. “And are all your guards loyal to you?”
Darius hesitates. Only for a moment, but long enough for me to take notice, before his expression hardens once again. “Of course.”
Interesting.
“Oh, really?” I smirk. “So there’s no doubt in your mind that one of these ‘trusted guards’ who are duty bound to protect him, aren’t actually working with Brecca? Then you must believe that none of your citizens would be willing to, either. Like a nobleman, or a baker, or perhaps an advisor?”
“Godsdamn it, Lena, you've said too much!” Tristan’s voice barks in my mind, only for me to hear.
Darius stiffens. “What are you implying?”
With Tristan's warning, I know I’m straddling a dangerous line, but I press on regardless, needing to know how open-minded Darius can be. How open-minded he can be to me. “There are traitors in every kingdom.” Darius scoffs and I purse my lips. “Just because your city is full of wealth and jewels does not mean that your people are content. Evil does not show itself willingly, and it comes in many faces. Whether that be a human beggar or a smiling nobleman. Unless you're searching for it, you will not see the rot within their soul until it is already too late.”
His lip pulls up into a snarl, but he halts it, breathing heavily as he visibly tries to control himself. “You were not born here,” he says, his tone hard and unyielding, “so you didn’t see firsthand the pain and death the Breccans caused. The scars they birthed from their traitorous acts. It is because of this I can forgive you for the insult.” Swiping his hand through the air, the domed ward collapses on itself and he steps closer to me. Placing a palm beneath my chin, he tilts it up, his touch so cold, I feel frost biting at my skin. “But I will tell you this one time and one time only. No Cascadonian would ever work with Brecca.”
I search his eyes, disappointment filling me as I see there will be no swaying him. Not by anything I have to say, at least. He’ll need tangible proof before believing a foreigner regarding the loyalty of his people. No matter how wrong he may be.
He'll be no help to us.
“Nonetheless, you and your guards are not invulnerable,” I say in a hushed tone. Wrapping my hand around his wrist, I hope I can at least guide him in the right direction even if he won't believe me outright. “You must prepare for all outcomes. It's irresponsible to not give your people the skills they need to protect themselves. Not just for tomorrow, but for today as well.”
Darius holds my gaze for a long moment, then his hand falls to his side and he walks away without a backward glance.
Patting my hands on the outside of my thighs, I rock heel to toe, waiting for him to return and continue our discussion, watching as each of his steps takes him closer to the fence and farther away from me. Confused, I open my mouth, then shut it. Then open it again and shut it, frowning when I realize, after an embarrassingly long amount of time, that he’s not coming back.
Shock at being so rudely dismissed wars with irritation and I finally snap out of my stupor, racing after him. “Where are you going?”
“Away. I’m finished with this discussion.” He places his hands on the top rail of the fence and hops over, heading toward the forest.
“Well, I’m not,” I say, following him over the fence and matching my pace with his, his strides easily two to my one.
“Why? So you can pinpoint everything I’m doing wrong?”
My lips turn down. “You're not wrong on everything, just the more important matters.”
Tossing a dry look over his shoulder, Darius returns his attention to the path ahead and speeds up his pace. “I'm not interested in anything else you have to say.”
Does he actually think that he can beat me in stubbornness? Ha!
“But if you just listen, I –”
“Enough!” he roars, whirling on his feet. “I'll not speak on this matter any longer!”
I blink. Once, twice, three times. Then he spins away and continues on towards the forest. I make no move to follow. Feet planted to the ground, I'm too shocked at his outburst to do anything else. But the blood sizzling within my veins quickly thaws my frozen feet and I storm after him.
