Free Duel of Fire (Steel and Fire Book 1) by Jordan Rivet

you shouldn’t tell the prince of your citadel what to do. Especially when it involves exercise.”
    Dara’s cheeks warmed. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. I didn’t mean—”
    “I’m kidding.” Siv chuckled. “Relax. You look like a red-handed cullmoran.”
    Dara bowed stiffly and reached for her gear bag, biting back the urge to respond.
    “Prince.”
    “Until next time, swordswoman.”
    She slung her bag over her shoulder and left the dueling hall. A guard patrolled the hallway outside the door, but otherwise the palace was quiet. She headed down the corridor, its straight lines like a giant’s dueling strip. It was longer even than Berg’s school and flatter than most of the spaces on the mountain outside of Square Peak.
    Dara glanced back at the guard, but he was staring at the opposite wall as if it might come to life. She picked up her pace, jogging down the cavernous corridor. There was so much space! She ran faster. It was exhilarating, better than running the bridges because she didn’t have to worry about rotting boards and foot traffic. A few servants glanced at her as she passed, but they didn’t stop her. The weariness in her legs didn’t slow her as she embraced the feeling of running down the long, flat space. Despite herself, she grinned. She could get used to this.
    Then she rounded a corner and bumped straight into Zage Lorrid.
    Dara recoiled, and her gear bag slipped off her shoulder. The blades inside rattled, the sound echoing around the castle entrance hall.
    “I’m sorry, sir!” she gasped. “I didn’t see you.”
    Fire Warden Lorrid was a slight man who seemed to disappear into the shadows in the entryway. He wore a black cloak with a silver clasp shaped like a leaf. He pulled the cloak close around him, studying Dara.
    “And what is the daughter of Rafe Ruminor doing in the royal castle, may I ask?”
    Dara started. She had only seen the Fire Warden from a distance. His name had been a curse in their house since Renna died, but she was surprised he knew who she was.
    “I was dueling with Siv—with the prince. I train with his coach.” Dara wished she could disappear too. What had she been thinking, running down the palace corridors?
    The Fire Warden frowned, his egg-white forehead creasing. “Is that so? Interesting. I wouldn’t expect Rafe Ruminor to want his daughter keeping company with the Amintelles.”
    “Sir?”
    The Fire Warden twisted his fingers in his black cloak, suddenly seeming to loom like a great black dragon. Dara resisted the urge to take a step back. She was surprised the Warden had the nerve to speak of any daughter of Rafe Ruminor after what he had let happen to Renna. Her sister’s face rose before Dara for an instant, wide and strong like their mother’s. Dara pictured the molten Fire sliding over Renna’s fingers like oil as she learned to bend it to her will. Dara had watched her early lessons, sitting on a stone table in the workshop, her legs swinging, as Renna practiced the Work. But she hadn’t been there the day it had happened.
    “Tell me, Miss Ruminor, do you also Work the Fires?” Zage whispered. “Or perhaps you carry a Fire Blade to your duels.”
    “No, sir,” Dara said. “I’m not a Fireworker. I train with steel.”
    “Hmmm.” The sound was drawn out, as if Zage were humming. “See that it stays that way.”
    “Yes, sir. I really should be going.”
    Zage waved a hand. He had a large silver ring set with glittering obsidian on his middle finger. “Be careful what you bring to the castle, Miss Ruminor. Farewell.”
    Dara fled. She didn’t stop running until she reached the bottom of the staircase leading away from the castle. She told herself it was just because she was late, but she couldn’t get away fast enough. She shivered, grateful for the sunshine warming the mountainside when she reached Lower King’s.
    She had spoken to Zage Lorrid. The man who controlled the system regulating the flow of Fire through the