Free Darkness Embraced by Winter Pennington

doors as we made our approach. The torchlight flickered in the spacious room beyond. There was enough light to completely illuminate the room, but even so, the shadows danced in corners like eerie specters.
    At the northern wall was a row of small thrones reserved for the twelve elders. The eleventh and twelfth chairs were empty. One, I knew was Vasco’s place. The other must’ve belonged to Gaspare.
    Renata sat in a throne made out of some type of ebony wood. It was placed higher than the others, the back was high, and the arms were intricately carved and curling. Behind the fall of her skirts she was long enough of leg that her heeled feet touched the floor.
    Vasco led me dumbly before her. He went to his knees and I followed.
    “Padrona,” he said in his court voice, a voice that was at once charming and untouchably cold. “I bring forth your scion, Epiphany.”
    “Vasco, rise and take your place,” Renata said smoothly.
    Vasco rose and only then did I take my hand from his arm. I forced myself to stare at the stone floor. If I looked at him I knew my expression would betray how I felt. I was afraid. I was nervous. I hated court politics, but if there was one thing I knew to be true, it was that you did not show weakness to those that would delight in exploiting it.
    I sensed Vasco take his seat. It left me feeling suddenly and undeniably very alone. I raised my head enough to look at Renata.
    A woman laughed and every hair on my arms stood on end. I didn’t want to look at her, didn’t want to see the face that went with that unmistakable laugh.
    I turned and met Lucrezia’s wild eyes, eyes that were the color of fresh spring grass. The bodice that cinched at her waist was a few shades darker. She smiled with lips that were as red as her flaming locks. “Greetings, Epiphany.”
    I forced myself to go completely still. I would not give her the benefit of a reaction.
    “No hello?” Her red brows arched high. The look she gave me was predatory and amused.
    I opened my mouth to follow the protocol of court etiquette when Renata’s voice flowed like something lethal into the silence. “Lucrezia.”
    Lucrezia mouthed something. I think it was, “Good luck.”
    “Epiphany.” I must’ve been staring at her because Renata’s voice called me out of my thoughts.
    I bowed my head. “Yes, my lady?”
    “Do you wish to face the challenges?”
    “Yes.”
    “Do you accept the challenge of a duel from the Elder Gaspare?”
    “I do.”
    “Rise and choose your sword.”
    Dominique was suddenly by my side. He offered his hand to me, to help me stand, but I did not take it. Again, it would be another sign of weakness for the others to exploit. He went to the far wall opposite the thrones, flicking back a tapestry that bore a crest of a griffin on it. There were swords, so many of them. Broadsword, short swords, and twin daggers all gleamed in the torchlight like a deadly bounty. I didn’t own a sword, and thus, I was forced to pick one.
    I didn’t want to.
    I didn’t want to handle a sword that had been handled before. I went to the wall, trailing the tips of my fingers over the blade of one of the longer swords. The swords had been taken care of, oiled and cleaned. I could smell the faint scent of the oil that had been used on them and knew that they had been cleansed very recently, probably in preparation for the challenge, but one thing they retained were memories.
    My fingers faltered as a brief image of masculine hands gripped the pommel. The pommel sported the design of an eagle. I drew the breath in through my nose and moved to the next sword.
    Cleansed or no, my powers of empathy were picking up on psychic impressions, memories that had been left behind that no cloth could wipe away. The swords seemed to whisper their histories to me. I knew Lucrezia’s blade before my fingers even brushed the polished steel. It was a modest blade, medium length, with thin crescent guards. It reeked of blood and violence,