“It’s okay,” Corbin said to him. “You won the duel, fair and square.”

“I had no choice,” Kalon repeated himself.

“He gave you no choice,” Corbin replied. “Demetrius cheated. He chose to die as dishonorably as he lived.”

Valaine stepped forward. “If you ask me, Lord Mefithi is better off without a son like him. You did the right thing.”

Demetrius’s friends were livid, but there was nothing they could do, especially since the master commander himself had refereed the duel. “It’s not fair,” one of them murmured.

“Krassus’s death wasn’t fair, either,” Kalon retorted.

The second Aeternae pointed an angry finger at him. “You killed Demetrius over a filthy Nalorean, Kalon. You’re a traitor to your kind!”

Kalon moved like lightning, gripping the Aeternae by his throat. “Unless you want me to remove your heart as well, you will apologize for uttering such insults,” he said, his voice low and deadly. “Demetrius challenged me to a duel, and he lost. Better get used to it.”

“Don’t,” Corbin said, placing a hand on Kalon’s shoulder. “He’s not worth it.”

“I know.” Kalon sighed, letting the Aeternae go.

He and Corbin walked away, leaving the two friends to care for Demetrius’s body and his discarded heart. Valaine was the first to reach him, throwing her arms around his neck as she pulled him into a hug.

“That was close,” she said. “He could’ve done much worse!”

“But he didn’t,” Kalon replied, gently pushing her back with a soft and thankful smile. “It’s over now. Justice has been served.” He stopped in front of our group, pulling his shoulders back. “And that is how one wins a duel, even when dealing with a cheater.”

“Does that happen often?” I asked, my brow furrowed.

“You’d be surprised,” he said. “Pat an Aeternae down all you want. They’ll still find a way to hide or pick up a weapon from somewhere, if they feel like they’re losing.”

“Desperation clouds one’s judgment,” Corbin replied, shaking his head in dismay.

“Kalon’s right, though. It’s over. That’s all that matters.” Valaine sighed.

Indeed, it was over, and my opinion of Kalon had shifted considerably. Suspicion battled increasing curiosity in the back of my head, as I decided I needed to know more about him. I wanted to understand him better. There were definitely multiple layers to this guy. I just had to be careful as I peeled away at them.

But nothing that had happened tonight would bring back Krassus, whose death was still unfair. His children would go on to live without him, and that broke my heart. Visio was much more complicated than I’d thought, I realized, and I was barely scratching the surface here. Who knew what else this place had in store for us?

I’d have to find out.

Esme

The next morning, after the GASP briefing held by Derek through Semper Telluris, I made my way into the palace’s training halls, still reeling from the duel I’d witnessed in Black Square. Kalon was a veritable killing machine, but he also had a heart—kinder than the one he’d ripped out of Demetrius’s chest with his bare hand, anyway. I’d never forget that moment.

A bit of sparring would clear my head, for sure. I’d seen the armor and weaponry used in the Blood Arena, and I knew I’d seen something similar here, as well, since many of the noble dynasties displayed them inside the palace—testaments to their champions’ prowess in combat, something for those training in these halls to aspire to.

There were five spaces designed for fighting practice, each of them boasting crystal glass displays filled with trophies and medals. Sets of armor dating back eight hundred thousand years adorned the dark walls, as did shields, swords, spears, and other sharp weapons used in the Blood Arena. The noble dynasties could afford the intricate details and master craftsmanship of steelwork, and so every piece shown was truly a work of art—chilling, impressive, mesmerizing art that honored violence.

I’d opted for a sportier outfit today, already tired of fitting into corsets and bodices. Not that they bothered me, since they were infinitely more comfortable than what humans had worn during their Victorian days, but I did prefer pants to anything else. Zurah had been kind enough to select a black leather set, comprised of tight pants and a vest, to which she added a loose-sleeved white shirt. My hair was braided back, and I had a black leather cloak on my shoulders, ready to pull up whenever I went out in the hazy sunlight.

On this occasion, however, I took it off and left it on a corner chair. I took my time admiring the weapons that were on display, as well as the ones mounted on wooden panels, ready to be used in training. Unlike the trophy rooms, these halls were wide and spacious, the floors covered in a thick material that mimicked marble, though not as slippery, and was perfect for rapid steps with just the right amount of sliding.

I knew Tristan would spend the first half of his day in the library, so I chose to warm up a bit and practice some moves. It wasn’t in my nature to be stationary for more than a day or two. The energy tended to gather and form pressure points in my joints and muscles, and all that needed to be released one way or another. It was also a good way for me to stay in shape. It had been a while since I’d fought or even sparred with someone, so it felt nice to have this entire training hall at my disposal.

Picking up a pair of slim short swords from one of the panels, I took my time admiring the engraved stylized vines on their luscious steel blades. The hilts were simple, made with ivory, and the handles were neatly wrapped in hide strips, which gave them an excellent grip. They were also light, but I could still feel the smooth weight in my hands—enough to warrant a swing or two in the air, just so I’d understand them better. I’d made this a tradition of sorts. Feeling the weapon before using it. Slashing left and right, swinging and dancing with it, finding its best angles.

Shortly after I got used to the swords, I settled in front of a wooden dummy, taking my time to remember all the weak and potentially deadly spots. In the Aeternae’s case, it was usually the head. How quickly could I decapitate one of them, if push came to shove? I’d seen Demetrius in the arena and during the duel. I’d seen Kalon fly down the stairs to reach him, and I’d seen him defeat the bastard. They were fast. Insanely fast, much like the vampires.

“Looking to kill an Aeternae anytime soon?” Kalon’s voice startled me.

I turned around to find him standing in the training hall’s wide doorway. He was clad in a short leather tunic, which was tightened around his waist with a silver belt. His thigh muscles twitched beneath his extremely well-fitted leather pants. Little silver rings jingled from the sides of his knee-length boots. He was definitely dressed for trouble. Also, he must’ve read my mind, because I had just been wondering what it would have been like if I’d been the one to take Demetrius’s head off.

“No, just practicing,” I replied. “It’s a shame for me not to use a training hall when there are five of them. Who comes here, usually?”

“The master commander, the occasional golden guard,” Kalon said. “Valaine and I spar here a lot, as do other tournament champions.”

“What about the silver guards?”

“There are training barracks about a mile from the palace.”

I nodded slowly. “Have you come to practice, as well, or were you just stalking me?”

“Why can’t it be both?” Kalon chuckled. He walked across the hall and stopped in front of the weapons panel. “You’re a fan of twin swords?”

“Yeah. I like to use both hands in combat.”

“No shield?”

I shook my head. “I usually have steel guards on my forearms to block any direct hits.”

He pulled a longsword out of its wall-mounted scabbard. The zing of metal against metal sent shivers through my body, making my skin tingle. It was one sound I would never get tired of, though I hoped I’d hear it less and less, since it invited violence.

“I prefer the big ones,” he said. “It takes a little bit of time to swing them effectively with just one hand, but when you get there…”

A smile stretched across his lips, while I gripped the swords a little tighter. What a strange reflex this was.

“Why don’t the guards carry any weapons?” I asked.

Kalon moved around me, slowly, sizing me up while he switched the longsword between his hands. “They don’t need them,” he said. “They’re Aeternae. I thought last night had clarified that for you.”

I blushed. “Fangs and claws are enough, then…”

He stopped, bringing his spare hand up next to his face. He parted his lips, and the fangs slipped out, long and sharp and glistening, almost begging to tear into one’s veins. This was the first time I was seeing them up close. Last night, he’d moved too fast for me to take it all in. His claws grew like small nail-shaped blades, and he wiggled his fingers before he hit the wooden dummy next to him.

The poor thing was broken in half, splintered beyond repair. The pieces fell on the floor as Kalon withdrew his claws and fangs. “More than enough,” he replied.

I had to admit that I was still quite impressed. It took considerable strength to do such damage with one’s bare hands. If his claws could destroy a dummy with one blow, I wondered what he could do with his fangs.

“So that’s why there are no weapons allowed in Aeternae duels, huh?” I asked.