Free Kingslayer by Honor Raconteur Page A

puff of air and his hands dangled at his sides. “Do you need something, Bohme?”
    The bodyguard grinned, the expression a little mischievous. “Didn’t think you notished me.”
    “How could I miss you?” Darius responded dryly, finally turning to face the bodyguard who was still lurking inside the doorway. “I’ve seen elephants smaller than you.”
    The bodyguard let out a delighted chuckle. “Breakfasht jusht came.”
    Had he been out there that long? Darius lifted his head to squint at the sun. Yes, he really had. “Give me fifteen more minutes. I want to finish the set.”
    Bohme watched with interest as he snagged his sword from the bench. “Thish shtyle ish the Xhii, ishn’t it?”
    “That’s right.” Darius shot him a look as he retreated back to his previous position. “I’m surprised you know it. Few outside of Arape do.”
    “I shaw it once, ash a boy.” Bohme leaned his right side against the doorjamb, making it obvious that he had no intention of leaving and every intention of watching.
    An audience didn’t bother Darius. With a shrug, he settled into the first stance and slowly drew the sword.
    This sword hadn’t exactly been what Darius wanted. But then, the style he used had practically nothing in common with what Niotan soldiers preferred. Really, he’d been lucky to find anything similar at all. The swordsmith had sworn he would make a custom blade at once but that would take a solid week at the very least. Until then, this blade would have to do.
    It had a slight curve to it, unlike the perfectly straight blades Darius had always used, and the hilt had a longer length to it than he preferred. Normally, he would explode into the first movement, but the odd feel of the sword in his hands threw him off slightly and he didn’t move with his usual speed. But soon he warmed up enough to where he fought against the speed of his own shadow, the blade whistling through the air so that it almost sounded like it sang in mellow tones.
    He stopped abruptly and then drew back into the beginning stance, re-sheathing the blade. All in all, not a bad performance considering this sword didn’t have the slimness necessary to go as fast as he wanted it to. A heavy sheen of sweat covered his skin and the morning sun wasn’t just threatening heat, but pouring it out in gentle waves. Time to stop.
    Pivoting on one heel, he turned back for the doors.
    Bohme raised his hands and clapped, half-jokingly. “Can we shpar shoon, shir?”
    Now there was a thought worth visiting. “This evening, perhaps,” Darius allowed with a rush of anticipation. “Assuming our illustrious queen doesn’t catch me first.” Stepping back inside the relative coolness of his rooms, he went for the washbasin in his bedroom, casually ordering over one shoulder, “Test that food for poisoning.”
    “No need,” Bohme assured him. “Have friend in kitchen. She preparesh your food. It’sh shafe.”
    Darius retreated a step back into the main room and gave his bodyguard a baffled look. “Is that why no one’s poisoned me yet?”
    Bohme flashed him a satisfied smile. “I have your back, shir.”
    He did indeed. Tailli had indeed blessed him by sending Bohme. “Bohme…I don’t have to return you, do I?”
    The question delighted the bodyguard to no end and he threw back his head and laughed with pure happiness. The deep sound echoed in the room, ringing pleasantly and it infected Darius so that he chuckled as well.  Shaking his head, he washed off the sweat before shrugging on one of the informal outfits tailored for him yesterday.
    The shirt was in the rich blue of Niotan although the pants were white. But he’d noticed yesterday that most of his new wardrobe had blue in it somewhere. The queen’s way of putting her personal stamp of ownership on him? Sego’s way of silently telling people where Darius’s loyalty lay? He hadn’t quite dared to ask yesterday with the tailor flying around him with scissors in one hand