Free 9780981988238 by Leona Wisoker

suddenly. “That's a binding she'd be abandoning if she fell in challenge. That makes her choice illegal; she has to call a champion to represent her.” He looked deeply relieved at the thought.

Alyea kept her expression still with an effort. Fall in challenge? That didn't sound like a first-blood duel. Her hands tightened into fists.

“Unfortunately,” Oruen said, “she hasn't been sworn to that yet; you yourself asked for a delay.” He rubbed wearily at his eyes, and shot a sharp glance at Alyea.

The elder Sessin turned a bleak stare on Pieas. “You've been a concern to me for years, Pieas,” he said. “I've seen you get away with more than your due, and walk proud in the company of madmen and murderers your father would have shunned. I'm at the end of my tolerance for you. If she falls, I will claim my own right as lord of Sessin, and challenge you myself.”

Pieas stared at his uncle as if he couldn't believe his ears. “You would betray me like that?”

“You've already betrayed Sessin,” Eredion said roughly. “From Water's End to Bright Bay, good people turn away to avoid your path, while disgraceful men steer straight for you. You're putting a reputation to our name that we don't want and can't afford. I've tried to warn you, and you've refused to listen, so you have three choices. Kill Lady Alyea, and face me after. Submit yourself to Lord Oruen's punishment instead of taking up the challenge. Or run disowned into the deep desert, to make your own way as you will.”

Alyea stood frozen and trying to look placid; she hadn't expected such violent support from the elder Sessin, and the words kill Lady Alyea had locked her throat with horror. Not a first-blood duel, then. How could she have been so stupid?

The terrified look on Pieas's face suggested he wouldn't dare to go up against Eredion; two options remained. Which would prove more distasteful to him she couldn't guess.

The younger man's jaw worked for a moment; then he said, hoarsely, “I'd like a day to consider. May we . . . continue this along with the other discussion tomorrow night?”

“Certainly,” Oruen agreed, seeming relieved. The two Sessins departed, Eredion's hand clamped firmly on the younger man's shoulder.
    “Wait a bit,” Oruen said as the door closed again. “Let them get some distance before you leave.”

“I had no intention of tagging their heels.” Alyea sat on the arm of a chair, studying the man across from her intently. “You look tired.”

“I am,” Oruen said, slumping back into the cushions of his chair and rubbing his dark eyes. “Gods, I'm tired. I begin to think I made a serious mistake, accepting this crown.”

Alyea said nothing. He wasn't about to abandon the throne, after all he'd gone through to place his rear end on it.

“Are you planning on your aqeyva training being enough to beat Pieas with?” Oruen said after a while. “Because you're an idiot if that's all you're counting on. Eredion's right; Pieas is a nasty piece of work.”

She shook her head, unwilling to admit the extent of her mistake. Even if blood-right had meant a simple duel, the move had been pure madness, more bluff than anything else, now that she thought back on it. What had she wanted?

For Oruen to stop her. For him to say—

—oh, gods, was she still that mad about him? He'd made it clear . . . or had he?

She couldn't resist finding out if that flicker of emotion, when he'd heard of Pieas's attack on her, had been real or imagined. “Why did you choose me for this?”

He had closed his eyes while she brooded; he opened them now and smiled. “Why not you?”

“I'm only eighteen,” she said as emotionlessly as she could. “You have men and women in your service with the dignity of age and the wisdom of years who could handle this much better. Just because you seduced me once is no reason to give me important assignments like this one. Or do you want me out from nearby, to avoid the reminder?”

His smile