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Loredana’s sword cut through the air a few inches from my face just as I jumped back, drawing my own sword.
She came at me, slicing up and down, her arm like the sail of a windmill in a storm. I ducked left and right, barely missing each killing slash.
Hadn’t she said she would lose if I pardoned her? But I guess I hadn’t given her an answer. And even if I had, the fight had to appear as genuine as possible, lest we both got punished for playing tricks.
She came at me again. This time, I jumped forward, blocking her sword arm with my left arm and pushing my body against hers.
“I will...” I growled loudly enough for all to hear, “... kill you,” I added, hoping she could understand my meaning.
If it came to it, I would have to drive my sword through her, but I really didn’t want to. She hadn’t been nice to me, no one had, but she didn’t deserve to die. I had killed Ungur and Brigita to become Fourth Pawn. That was enough blood on my hands.
Our swords clashed over and over as we parried each other’s blows. In a surprising move, Loredana ducked, placing a hand on the floor and kicking at my wrist with her boot.
My sword went flying out of my hand. It hit the floor with a clatter, then slid away. I dove for it, while Loredana pushed back to her feet and took chase.
Reaching my sword, I gripped the hilt and rolled out of the way just as Loredana stabbed her sword at the spot I’d just vacated. She stabbed again. I rolled once more, her sharp blade grazing my side.
I growled in pain. Warm blood slid down my ribs under my shirt. A cry from my brother reached my ears, but I ignored it.
Not caring if Loredana’s sword sliced my leg, I kicked at it as she was lifting it to stab again. The blade cut through my pants and into my leg, cutting it as if it were a piece of butter. I gritted my teeth and kept rolling, carried by the momentum of my kick. Lifting my other foot as I went, I slammed the heel of my boot between her hip and ribs, then kept on rolling.
She fell to the side, losing her sword as her wrist bent at an unnatural angle, making a cracking sound that wrenched a scream out of her throat.
As she hit the ground, I straddled her, placing the sharp end of my blade to her throat and applying enough pressure that a line of blood cut across the column of her windpipe.
Holding as still as a trapped mouse, she stared into my eyes. There was a plea there, an appeal for her life. She had fought to kill, it seemed. Her offer to lose might have been nothing but a trick. Was she that dishonorable? I felt disgusted. No one in this place could be trusted.
I pressed my blade harder, drawing more blood.
Loredana slapped a hand against the ground. One, two, three times. She was surrendering, another plea for her life, a more public one. She didn’t think I would let her live. And why should I when she had lied?
“You disgust me,” I hissed at her, then jumped to my feet and backed away. “I pardon her,” I blurted out.
Murmurs went around the hall, then the King spoke.
“Pardon her?” His tone suggested he found the idea ridiculous. “What do you think of that, Timotei?”
My brother looked up, his eyes red from crying. “I... I think she should live,” he said, his voice so young and tender it sounded out of place in this pit of vipers. He’d seen Loredana’s attempts to kill me and yet his pure heart could think of nothing but mercy. This city didn’t deserve him.
The Black King smiled and patted Timotei on the head. “My innocent pet. What fun would that be?”
Loredana let out a whimper.
“Kill her,” the King ordered, flicking a hand dismissively toward the fallen Pawn.
“But I wish to pardon her,” I said, eliciting a gasp from those sitting in the galleries.
“And I’m supposed to care about your wishes?” he asked with amusement. “Kill her or...”
He seemed to search his mind for an idea. His red eyes drifted lazily toward Timotei who was hugging his legs tightly, rocking back and forth. His eyes were closed, squeezed shut as if there was nothing more in this world he wished to see.
“...or,” the King said, coming to a decision, “Timotei has to do it.”
My brother’s eyes sprang open. They stared right into mine, practically screaming, providing a silent voice of denial and horror.
Sweat trickled down my back. My fingers twitched around the hilt of my sword. Fully aware of the King’s black heart, I had no doubt he would force Timotei to kill. And if my brother refused, Maximus would threaten my life. Faced with that decision, Timotei would choose to save me, then his already terrifying life would become much worse than it already was.
I turned to Loredana. She was still laying on her back. A line of tears cut a path from the corner of her right eye to her ear. She gave me a nod, and there were resignation and forgiveness in her eyes.
I’d tried to pardon her, even though she’d done her best to kill me. If I came for her once more, she understood it wasn’t my fault.
Very slowly, she rose to her knees, lifted her chin.
I was still several paces away from her, but I lifted my sword and tried to think of the best way to give her a swift death. I didn’t glance in Timotei’s direction, but I hoped his eyes were shut. I hoped he didn’t have to see me kill this defenseless woman. Someone’s daughter. Someone’s sister. Did she have any family? I didn’t know.
I aimed for her heart, tightened my grip around the hilt of my sword.
Loredana rolled, picking up her sword as she did. I backed away, weapon at the ready. She would put up a fight, and maybe if I killed her in self-defense, it would be somewhat easier.
Except, she didn’t fight me. Instead, she flipped the sword, pressed its tip to the base of her chest and fell on it, impaling herself.
And through these horrible events is how I became First Pawn of the Black Court.