Crest (Ondine Quartet Book 3) (31 page)

At least I hoped so.

I bounced on the balls of my feet, legs light, eyes focused.

His arm darted out. Easily avoided.

A test punch to see my reaction time.

Irritation spiked. He must think I'm an amateur.

"Did you really finish gardinel training?" I eyed his body, voice dripping with disbelief.
 

An answering predatory grin. "Didn't you bypass entrance requirements because your uncle ran the chevalier training program?"

My foot shot out.

He didn't expect the kick to be aimed so high and I clipped his upper arm.

"Is that all?" he asked politely.

I resisted the urge to pull hard on my Virtue. Empath alone could drop him to his knees.

But that felt like cheating and I wanted to take him on fair and square.

He circled. I followed.

Magic lightly reached inside. Irritation and curiosity. So he wasn't as unbothered as he seemed.

His eyes narrowed. Damn, he'd felt it. "You let emotions dictate what should be run with your head. Like my son, you have a lot left to learn."

"This has nothing to do with your son. This is between you and me."

He lunged. I dropped my torso and whipped out of his grasp.

The corner of his lip went up. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you had a little crush on him. How charming."

I controlled my expression. He was trying to provoke me and I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing me lose it.

Fist flew and I darted to my right.

Amusement glinted in his eyes. "You move well, ondine."

Was he holding back? The thought pissed me off.

"Can't say the same," I said. "Your son clearly didn't become the Warrior Prince because of anything he got from you."

Ancelin's face darkened. "My son may've learned how to fight, but he doesn't know how to lead."

"And you do?" I shot back. "Ordering people around doesn't make you a leader. Tristan actually listens and thinks and cares—"

"He should be listening to me," Ancelin growled.

Another uppercut.

I dodged, breaths coming faster.

"Then maybe you should say something worth listening to," I snapped.

There went being calm.

I saw his foot a fraction of a second too late.

Sharp pain radiated and the impact against my left ribs sent me down to the mat.

Cool satisfaction settled on Ancelin's face. "As I said, this has been a lovely distraction, but —"

"That all you got?"

A shadow flickered through his eyes.

"Come on." I pulled myself up. Shit, my ribs hurt. "Again."

If the king wanted to pick on Tristan, elites, demillirs, and ondines, then he'd first have to go through me.

Dax stepped forward. "Enough. This is —"

"No." Ancelin raised his hand. "You are an ondine."

The wall reining in my temper fractured.

"Too much of a coward to do the hard stuff yourself?" I taunted. "Going to send Tristan to do it for you?"

Air trembled. Rage ignited in Ancelin's eyes. "How dare you —"

"You heard me." Might as well go for the throat. "You had Tristan take care of Eric because you didn't have the guts to —"

He moved too fast for me to react.

One
. Fist to spleen.

Two
. Foot to back of the knee.

Three
. Free hand to the base of my jaw.

Pain shredded up my body and the world blurred.

The last thing I saw before darkness swallowed me was an enormous fist coming straight at my face.

***

Eyes opened.

Jaw tentatively shifted. Ouch. At least it was still attached.

"I can't believe you're not dead."

Dax sat beside the bed, complexion pale.

"Your father wouldn't have killed me."

He'd just gotten a few blows in. Healing magic's residue tingled in my face, arm, and knee.

Point to Ancelin
.

Suspicion filled Dax's eyes. "What are you trying to prove?"

"Nothing." I rolled my shoulders and they cracked.

"You provoked him! What gives you the right to —"

"He was being dismissive about me and the elites," I pointed out. "That gives me every right. And whatever you do, I don't think it's a good idea to tell Tristan what happened."

"Unbelievable." He spread his arms. "Now you think you can tell me what to do with my own family?"

I gave an exasperated sigh. "If you tell your brother, he's going to go after your father. I'm not Governor yet, but I'd still like to avoid an international incident."

"What makes you think he won't just tell Tristan himself?"

"He won't." The King's pride wouldn't let him.

He stared at me for a long moment. "You know, my father was right about what he said."

I reached for the glass of water next to the bed. "About what?"

"About what happened with the beam." He crossed his arms, brow furrowed. "How do you know it was someone from our kingdom?"

"I don't." I settled back on to pillows far more luxurious than the ones at the Academy clinic. "But obviously someone is trying to kill me."

Dax frowned. "Why do you think that?"

I shot him an incredulous look. "Having me fall and almost break my neck might be a little clue."

He paled. "Still doesn't mean it's one of us. Maybe someone's targeting you to make their family the next Redavi. It's only a matter of time before the Governor's gone. With you out of the way, there'll be no Irisavies left."

Much as I hated to admit it, he had a point.

Being selected by Jourdain as the new Redavi family would be powerful motive. A chance to be on the Governing Council, not to mention the societal privileges.

I shook my head. "It'd be one thing if this was taking place in Haverleau. But here? Everyone at the conference is already Redavi."

Dax raised his brow. "Not everyone."

Hell, no.

My voice turned ice cold. "Are you suggesting one of the chevaliers did this?"

He settled back in the chair and gave me a look.

"Screw you, Dax." My fingers tightened on the sheets. "For your own good, I'm going to pretend you didn't say that."

"Are you really so blind you're not going to consider the possibility?"

Doubt stirred. Was it possible? But who? There were at least one hundred chevaliers here. All, with the exception of Julian, came from non-Redavi families.

Before I could respond, a commotion broke out behind the door.

"Now, don't tell me what to do, Daniel," a honeyed voice chided. "I just want to drop off a few cookies for the poor girl. Nothing more."

Daniel spluttered a response but the door was already opening.

Yahaira glided in on a cloud of perfume, lemon, and sugar.

Dax groaned. "I hope you have some for me, too."

Yahaira waved her hand. "Of course, dear. I'll make a few more for you and your friends later today."

He beamed.

She turned her attention to me. Impeccably arranged dark hair and a blue sheath dress gave her a professional, approachable look.

Warm smile brightened the room. "I heard you were here and I wanted to pay you a visit."

She opened a box that smelled like pure heaven and revealed neatly lined rows of beautiful cookies.

"Have one, dear. It'll be good for you."

The soft cookie crumbled in my mouth, a delicate concoction of light lemon and sugar.

It rivaled Rivière's eclairs. It was that good.

Dax grabbed one for himself. I may have growled a little.

"This is incredible," I managed to say between bites. "Thank you."

She waved aside the gratitude and headed toward the door.

"I'm sorry I can't stay. Things have been so hectic with the conference." She paused. "Will you stop by for lunch,
sondaleur
? Maybe the day after tomorrow?"

If her cooking tasted like this cookie, I'd swim across the entire Pacific to have a bite.

Besides, I wanted to speak to her about the chandelier incident.

"Of course."

"Good." She smiled. "I'll see you then."

"I'll stop by later, too," Dax called out as she left.

Kiss-ass.

I scowled. "Who brought me here?"

"I did."

Of course Ancelin couldn't be bothered to take care of his own mess.

He reached for another cookie. I stopped him with a look.

Sighing, he retracted his hand. "Told Daniel and the Healers you had an accident in training. Daniel was pretty pissed."

Which meant he'd probably keep me here longer than necessary.

A second training-related injury simply made me look inept. I could already hear the rumors flying around.

The door opened and a very pissed off selkie marched into the room.

Dax leaped out of his seat and I focused on adopting a very relaxed posture.

Fury hardened every cell in Tristan's body. "Who did this?"

"I'm fine."

"No. You're not."

I kept my tone light. "In case you've forgotten, I'm more than capable of taking care of —"

Dark eyes flashed. "You're a guest in my kingdom."

"So?"

"So you were injured by one of my people," he continued. "This is not about whether or not you can take care of yourself. Every visitor is to be treated as a royal guest. Someone didn't follow my orders."

"It's really not a big deal," I said hastily. "It looks worse than it is. And it wasn't Dax if that's what you're —"

"I know it wasn't him." He turned to his brother. "Tell me."

His voice was quiet. Deadly.

"Will you listen to me?" That tone was not good. "It was just a stupid sparring session and I wasn't paying attention —"

"It was not a fair sparring session." Tristan kept his gaze locked on Dax who was doing his best to maintain a neutral expression.

But the pinky on his right hand twitched. Twice.

"What are you talking about?"

"I know you kept your Virtue in check because of the selkies around you."

"Yeah, but —"

"Injuries on your jaw, lower back, and left knee means your opponent pulled a
grevaol
maneuver, designed to attack your vulnerable joints and bring you down with maximum speed. Every gardinel learns it in advanced training."

"You're making way too big of a deal out of this," I said, exasperated. "I get worse injuries in training at Lumière."

Both Belicouxs ignored me.

Royal mask settled on Tristan's face and he addressed his brother. "I'd like to speak to her alone."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea —"

"I'm not asking."

Dax held his gaze, expression solemn. After a few moments, he gave a short nod and left.

"It's hard to believe you guys are even related," I said conversationally. "You two are so different."

"What are you doing?"

Irritated, I pushed back the sheets and swung my legs over the side of the bed.

"I'm not one of your subjects, Your Highness. I do what I want."

Tristan took the chair Dax occupied and rubbed his face. "Tell me what happened."

I stood and stretched. Lingering pain in my knee but nothing I couldn't handle.

"No one was out to get me," I said quietly. "You don't have to worry about chain of command."

He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "You know that's only a part of the reason."

"No, I don't know." I grabbed my shoes and slipped them on. "This doesn't affect you and it has nothing to do with politics or security."

"Is it so hard to believe I don't like seeing you hurt?"

The words had an immediate effect. Until I came to Haverleau, no one had ever said that to me.

Yearning stretched, a gaping ache deep in my chest. I wanted to reach for him, lose myself in the warm heat and strength radiating from him.

"You know I've been injured a lot worse," I said, instead.

"If you're having a problem, I want to help."

Fingers briefly paused over my shoelaces.

It was hard enough to maintain a working relationship when what I felt for him grew rather than diminished.

Hard to be mature when I knew how strong his arms were and how his mouth felt on mine.

But this wasn't about me or what happened between us.

Pain and a wealth of bitter memories lay between Tristan and his father.

What Ancelin said infuriated me. But the thought of Tristan hearing those words tore me up.

My mother spent my entire childhood molding me into someone else, the mythical idea of who she believed the
sondaleur
should be.

I didn't want him to hurt.

He shouldn't have to deal with this. I'd handle Ancelin myself.

I finished tying my shoes and straightened. "This isn't something you can help with."

Something unreadable flickered through his eyes.

"I rushed over here because I was worried about you." He stood, posture rigid. "Apparently, that was a mistake."

"I didn't ask you to worry about me." I turned to the table and kept my hands busy. "Don't you have the conference and other important things to deal with, Your Highness?"

Silence.

"If that's the way you want it,
sondaleur
," he said stiffly.

He walked away and the door clicked shut behind him.

It was the first time he'd ever addressed me that way while we were alone.

DAWN ARRIVED TOO EARLY. I strode toward the entrance hall, tired and pissed off.

Late last night, we'd received word of another murder. An ondine and her gardinel from Fontesceau, the community in Florida, had been found torn apart in a field. She was from the Moreaux family.

The investigation was at a standstill. With no clues, we were left without any direction. Desperate, I'd spent a few hours last night creeping around the palace, hoping magic would sense something.

Empath caught nothing.

Based upon the word of a paranoid conspiracist and an overzealous thirteen-year-old, Ian and Aubrey investigated the book missing from The Alder Branch. Turns out that was the one and only copy available.

After a fitful night of sleep, I'd awoken early to go for a morning run. Mind cycled through ways for convincing the Armicant to work with us. I'd blanked.