for battle. He didn’t want to fight his brother, but he would … for me.
They faced each other across the icy room, two statues each waiting for the other to make the first move. Ash had taken a battle stance, his sword out in front of him, his expression reluctant but unwavering. Rowan held his blade casually at his side, tip pointing toward the floor, smirking at his opponent. Neither of them seemed to breathe.
Then Rowan grinned, a predator baring his fangs. “All right, then,” he muttered, sweeping up his blade in a blindingly quick move. “I think I’m going to enjoy this.”
He lunged at Ash, his sword a jagged blur through the air. Ash brought his weapon up, and icy sparks flew as the blades screeched against each other. Snarling, Rowan cut viciously at his brother, advancing with a series of savage head strikes. Ash blocked, ducked, and suddenly lunged, stabbing at Rowan’s throat. But Rowan spun gracefully aside, his sword licking out and back again. Ash whirled with inhuman speed, and would’ve cut him in two if the older prince hadn’t leaped back.
Smiling, Rowan raised his weapon, and I gasped. The gleaming point was smeared with crimson. “First blood to me, little brother,” he taunted, as a trickle of red began to drip from Ash’s sword arm, speckling the floor. “There’s still time to stop this. Turn over the princess and beg for Mab’s mercy. And mine.”
“You have no mercy, Rowan,” Ash growled, and lunged at him again.
This time, they both moved so quickly, twisting, jumping, spinning aside and slashing with their blades, it was hard to see it as anything but a beautifully timed dance. In fast-forward. Sparks flew, and the sound of blades clashing echoed off the walls. Blood appeared on both swords, and red splattered the floor around the combatants, but I couldn’t see who had the advantage.
Rowan suddenly knocked Ash’s blade aside, then thrust out his hand, sending a jagged spear of ice at his brother’s face. Ash threw himself backward to avoid it, hitting the floor and rolling to his knees. As Rowan brought his sword down at his kneeling opponent and I screamed in fear, Ash ducked aside, letting the blade miss him by centimeters. Grabbing Rowan’s arm, letting his brother’s momentum carry him forward, Ash spun and threw him to the floor. Rowan’s head struck the ice, and I heard the breath leave his body in a startled whoof. Quick as a snake, Rowan flipped over, sword in hand, but by that time, Ash had his blade at his throat.
Rowan glared at his brother, his face twisted into a mask of pain and hate. Both were panting, dripping blood from numerous wounds, yet Ash’s grip was steady as he pressed the blade against Rowan’s neck.
The older prince chuckled, raised his head and spit blood in Ash’s face. “Go on then, little brother,” he challenged, as Ash winced but didn’t shy away. “Do it. You’ve betrayed your queen, sided with the enemy, drawn a sword against your own brother … you might as well add slaughtering your family to the list as well. Then you can run off with the half-breed and live out your sordid fantasy. I wonder how Ariella would feel, if she knew how easily she’s been replaced.”
“Don’t talk about her!” Ash snarled, raising the hilt as if he really would thrust the sword through Rowan’s throat. “Ariella is gone. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of her, but she’s gone, and there’s nothing I can do about it.” He took a deep breath to calm himself, the longing on his face plain to see. A lump caught in my throat, and I turned away, blinking back tears. No matter how much I loved this dark, beautiful prince, I could never match what he’d already lost.
Rowan sneered, narrowing his eyes. “Ariella was too good for you,” he hissed, raising himself up on his elbows. “You failed her. If you’d really loved her, she would still be here.”
Ash flinched, as if struck a physical blow, and Rowan pressed his advantage. “You never saw what a good thing you had,” he continued, sitting up as Ash backed away a step. “She’s dead because of you, because you couldn’t protect her! And now you disgrace her memory with this half-breed abomination.”
Pale, Ash glanced at me, and I saw Rowan’s arm move a second too late. “Ash!” I cried, as the older prince leaped up and lunged with frightening speed. “Look out!”
Ash was already moving, the honed reflexes of a fighter kicking in even when his mind was elsewhere. Leaping back, his sword came up as Rowan slashed at him with a dagger that appeared from nowhere, and Rowan’s lunge carried him right onto the point of Ash’s blade.
Both brothers froze, and I bit down a scream. For a moment, everything ground to an abrupt halt, frozen in time. Rowan blinked and looked down at the blade in his stomach, his eyes wide and confused. Ash was staring at his hand in horror.
Then Rowan staggered back, dropping the knife and leaning against a wall, his arms around his gut. Blood streamed between his hands, staining the white fabric crimson.
“Congratulations … little brother.” His voice came out choked, though his eyes were clear as he nodded at Ash, still frozen in shock. “You finally … managed to kill me.”
Pounding footsteps echoed in the hall, and faint shouts carried into the throne room. I wrenched my eyes from Rowan’s bloody form and ran to Ash, who was still staring at his brother in a horrified daze.
“Ash!” I grabbed his arm, snapping him out of his trance. “Someone’s coming!”
“Yes, run away with … your half-breed, Ash.” Rowan coughed, a line of blood trickling from his mouth. “Before Mab comes in … and sees that her last son is dead to her. I don’t think you can do anything more … to betray your court.”
The voices were getting louder. Ash shot Rowan one last guilty, agonized look, then grabbed my wrist and ran for the door.
I don’t remember how we made it out. Ash pulled me along like a madman, running through hallways I didn’t recognize. It was a miracle we didn’t run into anyone, as footsteps and sounds of pursuit echoed all around us. Maybe it wasn’t coincidence at all, as Ash seemed to know exactly where he was going. Twice, he yanked me into a corner and pressed his body up against mine, whispering at me to be silent and not move. I froze as a gang of redcaps skittered past, snarling and waving knives at one another, but they didn’t notice us. The second time, a pale woman in a bloody dress floated by, and my heart thudded so loudly I was sure she would hear, but she drifted past without seeing.
We fled down a cold, empty corridor with icicles growing from the ceiling like chandeliers, flickering with a soft blue light. Ash finally pulled me through a door with the silhouette of a bone-white tree emblazoned on the front. The room beyond was rather small and sparsely decorated with a tall bookshelf, a dresser made of polished black wood, and an impressive knife collection on the far wall. A simple bed sat in the corner, the blankets pulled tight, looking as if it hadn’t been used in decades. Everything looked exceptionally clean, neat and Spartan, not like a prince’s bedroom at all.
Ash sighed and finally released me, leaning against the wall with his head back. Blood soaked his shirt, leaving dark stains against the black material, and my stomach turned.
“We should clean those,” I said. “Where do you keep the bandages?” Ash looked right through me, his eyes glassy and blank. The shock was taking a toll on him. I bit down my fear and faced him, trying to sound calm and reasonable. “Ash, do you have any rags or towels lying around? Something to stop the bleeding?”
He stared at me a moment, then shook himself and nodded to the corner. “Dresser,” he muttered, sounding more weary than I’d ever heard him. “There’s a jar of salve in the top drawer. She kept it
