Daindreth's Assassin, #1 by Elisabeth Wheatley

Author:Elisabeth Wheatley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Avowed Publishing and Media, LLC
Published: 2021-02-28T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

The Witch

Thadred won the joust, of course. No one was surprised. As soon as his opponent was lying in the dirt, nobles rushed to collect their bets. According to Daindreth, bets involving Thadred usually were regarding by how much he would win, not if.

Amira cast the archduke a stern look as Thadred cheered at another victory. “No one is that good.”

“Thadred is.”

“How can he be so much better than the people he fights?” Amira countered. “A blade goes dull without a whetstone. How can he stay so good if he never faces a real challenge?”

“I don’t know, but he does.”

Amira rolled her eyes at that. No one, not even Adros Nephaine, the most powerful Kadra’han in memory, had been undefeated.

When the time came to crown Thadred the winner, Vesha stepped aside and looked pointedly to Amira.

The assassin’s throat tightened. For the love of all the gods, surely the madwoman wasn’t about to ask Amira to joust?

“Lady Amira,” the empress said. “As bride of our future emperor, will you crown our victor?”

Amira didn’t see the harm in obeying and nor did she see a safe way to disobey.

The assassin stepped up to take the empress’s place before Thadred. A squire knelt with the crown on a velvet pillow, just like the others. All she had to do was place it on Thadred’s head. She wasn’t sure how one could mess that up, but she was fairly sure she could find a way.

Amira took the crown and raised it over the sweaty knight’s head. She could feel hundreds of eyes watching her every move, weighing every breath and blink.

Thadred kept his face lowered. Amira wished she could have seen his expression as she settled the golden circlet around his brow.

“Rise, victor,” Amira said, imitating the words she’d heard Vesha speak four or five times now.

“I thank you, my lady,” Thadred said. He grasped and kissed the back of her hand as the previous champions had done with Vesha.

The knight stood, a little stiffer than the others had, favoring his bad leg. Still holding her hand, he thrust it into the air and the crowd broke into cheers so loud that the horses whickered in terror across the lysts.

He touched her only with the hand that wore his ka-absorbing ring. Amira wondered if that was coincidence.

Thadred bowed and waved before turning back to her with a grin, lapping up the applause like a tomcat lapping up cream.

“Congratulations, victor,” Amira said, not even trying to lessen the sarcasm that dripped from her voice.

Thadred only grinned broader. He kissed her right cheek, then the other, as one would a sister. “Congratulations, victor,” he snickered back.

Daindreth slid between them. He slung an arm around Thadred’s shoulders, then Amira’s waist. She was acutely aware of her side pressing against him, the warmth and solidness of his body.

Daindreth hugged both of them. “My champions,” he said, preening like the general of an undefeated legion. He ruffled Thadred’s hair and kissed Amira’s forehead.

Amira frowned. “You’re pleased?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Amira had gone against his wishes earlier.

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