Movement caught Adale’s eye, and she realized that the light in Esofi’s right hand was shaping itself into a sword, glittering and translucent. Theodoar looked relieved at the sight; it was clear he believed that Esofi would engage him normally—or, at least, as normally as one could with a sword made of what seemed to be pure magic.
The match began. Theodoar moved in to strike, but Esofi brought her blade up to meet his, parrying the blow. Adale could not see her footwork through her long, elaborate skirts, but she suspected from her stance alone that Esofi had never actually been trained with a sword.
But perhaps she didn’t need to be.
Theodoar pulled his sword arm in and stepped back, only to move in again with a complicated three-step attack that Adale had seen him use to best many opponents in the past. Esofi looked surprised, and for a moment, Adale believed the match would be over before it began.
And that was when Esofi swung with her left hand, sending a wave of sparkling light directly at Theodoar. It caught him in the chest and sent him staggering backward. The spectators behind him scattered, but Theodoar regained his footing and moved into a defensive position.
“That’s not f—” Theodoar managed to say before another blast of magic hit him. This time, he was not so lucky. The magic knocked him flat on his back.
“Not fair!?”
Adale had no idea that the princess could shout like that. It was so at odds with her soft appearance. Esofi stormed toward him, translucent sword still glimmering in her hand, beads of sweat falling from her forehead and distorting her makeup. “You spoiled, selfish, pathetic child! You neglect your lands and your people in order to drink away your inheritance and believe you have the right to face me in combat? I slew three dragons by my own hand during the journey to Birsgen, and I would have killed more if they hadn’t learned to fear my scent!”
Another man might have surrendered there, but Theodoar was nothing if not stubborn. In a single lightning-quick movement, he managed to leap back to his feet, sword still in hand. Adale was relieved to see that the magic did not seem to have burned his skin in any way, and Theodoar merely looked as though he had faced an inordinately strong wind.
Theodoar’s feet moved automatically into a defensive stance, leaving Adale to wonder how he intended to protect against another wall of pure force. He seemed to reach the same conclusion, though, and stepped forward again to strike.
This time, Esofi brought both hands up in front of herself, palms flat. Before the blade could touch her, a wall of pink light sprang up in front of it. There was a sound like metal striking glass, but Theodoar did not step back the way Adale had been anticipating. Instead he tried the move again, striking at the barrier in the exact same way as though he hoped to shatter it. There was no result.
Not to be dissuaded just yet, Theodoar went to strike a third time. Esofi’s hands shifted again, and now Adale could see that there did seem to be a sort of technique to her movements, though it was nothing like the light, rapid art of swordplay. Esofi moved as she breathed, with slow and deliberate gestures that seemed to come from deep within her chest.
As Theodoar’s blade came down, the barrier vanished as though it had never been. But before the blade could pierce her, Esofi brought one leg back so that she was almost-kneeling on the grass. At the same time, she drew her right hand upward. Her magical blade intercepted Theodoar’s metal one, and there was a sound like a pair of shears cutting through empty air. As one, the spectators gasped.
Half of Theodoar’s blade now lay on the fresh morning grass. The other half was still clutched in his hand.
“Do you yield?” asked Esofi.
It seemed a foregone conclusion, but to Adale’s great surprise, Theodoar said nothing. Adale wondered if he truly meant to continue the challenge with half a blade. Esofi seemed to have come to the same realization and, before Theodoar could strike again, hit him in the face with another wave of force.
Theodoar hit the grass again on his back, and the broken hilt fell from his hand. He reached for it, but this time, Esofi followed him. Esofi gave a strong kick, and her long skirts prevented Adale from seeing precisely what happened, but Theodoar gave a yelp of pain in response. A moment later, Adale saw him draw his hand close to the safety of his body.
“I didn’t mean—” began Theodoar, trying to prop himself up on his elbows. Esofi whipped her arm around, and he found himself staring down at the end of her magical blade.
“I did not order you to speak!” she declared in a voice that reminded Adale of her own parents. She lifted her head to glare at the crowd that had gathered to watch. “There! Has this waste of my time satisfied you? Am I worthy to be your queen and save your country yet, or is there another silly test I must first pass? Tell me quickly!”
Nobody spoke, though a few of the young nobles who had been fortunate enough to get positions near the back of the crowd took the opportunity to sneak away.
“No,” said Theodoar at long last. “There is…there is nothing else.”
Adale decided to try to reason with Esofi, for Theodoar’s sake. After waiting a moment to make sure Esofi wasn’t going to start swinging again, Adale moved forward.
“Eso—Princess, I swear, I didn’t mean for this to—” Adale began.
“And you!” Esofi looked Adale in the face for the first time, and it was only then that Adale realized that there were tears brimming in her eyes.
“Esofi—”
“No,” said Esofi, shaking her head. “I believed…but you must think me quite foolish.”
“That’s not true!” Adale protested vehemently. “I swear by the deity of your choosing that I knew nothing of this!”
“Do not do me the dishonor of lying to me.” Esofi’s voice was suddenly very soft. Her ladies gathered around her like a living shield, and the magic vanished from her hands, leaving behind no trace that it had ever been there. “Your mastery of deceit is so poor. How silly of me to be blind to it until now.”
“Esofi, I…” There was so, so much that Adale wished to say, but she barely knew how to begin. “I did not want this.”
“There seem to be many things you do not want, Crown Princess,” retorted Esofi bitterly. “Unfortunately, they have been granted to you regardless.”
“Do not say that,” pleaded Adale. “Please—walk with me and I will explain. I only need time to find the words—”
Esofi shook her head. “No. No more words. I understand more than you could ever explain.”
“Are you all quite finished?” demanded a harsh voice. Adale spun around to discover her own mother standing there, attended by her own ladies and a selection of the castle guards. Her face was flushed scarlet and her braid was half-unpinned. It looked as though she’d run directly from the throne room to the lawn, except that was impossible because Queen Saski did not run.
“Theodoar of Leikr,” said Queen Saski, looking more displeased than Adale had seen her in living memory. “On your feet.”
Theodoar scrambled upward, and a few of his braver friends stepped forward to help him. When he was properly upright, Queen Saski spoke again.
“I am struggling to think of a reason why I should not have you imprisoned for the rest of your life. Certainly no one would miss you.”
“Your Majesty—” he began.
“But then, perhaps that would be too lenient,” Queen Saski continued as though he had not spoken. “After all, you are so fond of idleness. I do not think the dungeons would be too dissimilar from the life to which you are accustomed. Perhaps instead I will send you to join the defense of the north, so your existence might benefit someone, even if it is only a hungry dragon.”