Chapter 11 - Aricor

A loud pounding on the door made me jolt awake, and caused my heart to drum violently inside my chest.

“Get up,” an unfamiliar voice called through the door. It took me a few heartbeats to realize it was Aricor yelling at me.

I pushed my aching body off the mattress and shuffled to the door. I opened it just enough to stick my nose and mouth through.

“I’m not ready,” I uttered hoarsely, “I’ve been tossing and turning all night.”

“Tell that to all the beasts that will try to kill you if you ever step foot outside the palace again,” Aricor said, “tell you what, if you can push me back far enough to close the door, I’ll allow you to freshen up before training.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, and tried shutting the door. It wouldn’t budge. Of course it wouldn’t. I slid one hand through the opening and placed it on Aricor’s chest, and pushed with all my might. No luck. I took a deep breath, and from the depth of my being, I summoned my last scrap of power. I wielded Aricor back just far enough to slam the door shut.

“Good!” Aricor called out, and I couldn’t help but feel proud at the impressed tone of his voice. “Don’t take too long. We’ll have breakfast with the Crown Prince before training.”

I turned around and went into my room’s adjoined bathing chambers to freshen up. I quickly washed myself and exchanged my chemise for a pair of leggings and a tunic. I braided back my hair, and then popped into the hallway, where I found Warrian waiting for me.

“Hey,” he said softly, “how did you sleep?”

I grimaced. “I fell asleep right before Aricor came to wake me. I’m exhausted.”

Warrian gave me a long, lingering look. “Because you were out with Thoridor all night?” he asked, but there was no hostility in his voice, just… defeat.

“No!” I called out, “we just went out briefly. I felt a little claustrophobic, he took me to get some air.”

“And nothing happened?” Warrian asked.

“Nothing happened,” I assured him, “he didn’t even touch me.”

Well, at least he didn’t initiate it, I thought to myself. Warrian looked pleased enough, and put his hand on my lower back, to gently guide me down the hall.

We walked into a large room adorned with regal tapestries and a long, polished table stretched across the center. There were enough chairs on either side to accommodate half a court, but only three seats were taken. Thoridor was sitting at the head of the table, and he was flanked on either side by Aricor and Phaedra.

“Join us,” Thoridor said, “you’ll need your energy if you’re going out to train with Ari.”

Warrian and I each sat down at the table. I sat next to Phaedra, and Warrian joined Aricor on his side. Sitting across from Aricor, I took a moment to study him. He, like all Ardanians, was strikingly beautiful. He had wavy dark brown hair that reached down past his shoulders. He had piercing, dark brown eyes, set below dark eyebrows. His facial hair accentuated his angular jaw and high cheekbones, but was light enough not to overpower his striking eyes. He was dressed in garments similar to the ones Thoridor and I had worn on my first day — made up of mostly leather and fur, but his hood and shoulder piece were adorned with feathers, making him look traditional and… official, somehow.

I snapped out of my daze when Phaedra jabbed me in the ribs.

“Ouch,” I complained, rubbing the sore spot.

“Stop staring at Ari,” she whispered, “you’re making your suitors jealous.”

I furrowed my brows and looked at Thoridor and Warrian. They were both looking at Aricor with an unpleased expression on their faces.

“Oh grow up,” I scoffed, “you males are exhausting. Not everyone is a threat. Such frail masculinity.”

Thoridor raised an eyebrow and took a bite of his food. Phaedra broke the awkward silence by pushing a bottle of blue liquid my way.

“Here,” she said, “this is the last I can give you for at least another moon cycle. I’m not even sure your body can take this, so take it just a little at a time.”

I nodded gratefully and took a small sip. I immediately felt better.

I ate the all the food my belly could handle without overstuffing myself, and then drank some more of the elixir.

“Okay,” I said, after wiping my hands and mouth on a napkin, “ready when you are.”

Aricor got up and inclined his head in the direction of the door.

“After you,” he said, and followed me out. He led me to a courtyard that was mostly empty, safe for a small fountain right in the middle. He sat down on its edge, and patted the stone beside him.

“So, we’ll focus on two things today,” he said, “physical strength, and blood wielding.”

I nodded. “There won’t be any physical fighting,” Aricor clarified, “not yet. You need to focus on getting in shape first.”

I looked down. The fabric of my leggings had pooled around my thighs, and the seems of my tunic hung down past my shoulders.

“Yes,” I agreed, “I look like a heron.” Aricor shrugged.

“I don’t know what that is, but I’m inclined to agree. You look weak and scrawny.”

I tried to ignore his blatant insult and nodded my head.

“I’ll show you some exercises, and you need to eat at least five meals a day from now on,” Aricor continued. “But first, I’d like to see some more of your wielding.”

I looked at Aricor, and focussed my attention on his hand. It took nearly all my effort, but I was able to lift his hand, and make him slap himself across the face weakly.

“Hey!” he called out indignantly, but then he laughed.

It transformed his entire face — like a heavy cloud that had been covering the sun had floated away, allowing the rays of sunshine to break through. I couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

“Good,” Aricor said after he had collected himself. Then, he took a dagger from his pocket, and without saying another word, sliced open the palm of his hand.