“I’ll take her.”
Heads turned.
Rory Rey stood at the edge of the closest mat, arms crossed, black braid tight against her back. Her pale skin gleamed in the fading sun light. Her expression was unreadable. Deadly.
“She’s a second year,” I said, stepping forward. “I only get to fight first-years this first month.”
Professor Hog looked at Rory, then at me. “Yes, but this seems rather appropriate. You need to improve in your fight. Rory Rey can help.”
“I just thought—”
“Out there,” Rory interrupted. “The wildweavers and their dragons out there don’t ask how many years you’ve trained before they kill you.”
“Very funny, as if I would be punching a dragon,” I said sarcastically.
Someone else stepped forward from the shadows.
Lorik Draventh, in a blink, was right next to Rory, accompanied by Ugo.
“You will not punch a dragon, but if you don’t learn how to fight, you won’t pass your first test in the Dragontail trials. Princess,” Lorik said with an edge of challenge. “You need to get better at it. I will drag you to the mat if I have to.”
My throat tightened. For a moment, he almost made it sound like a motivational lesson, a mentor’s encouragement. He wasn’t wrong; the first test of the trials was a bare-handed fight against a second-year under an Auroric suppression veil. But I knew better. This wasn’t guidance. It was a sharp, deliberate challenge meant for everyone to witness.
Rory smirked. “Unless you’re scared, Princess.”
I should have said no but I didn’t. I knew I wasn’t ready to fight a second year. Truth was, I wasn’t ready to fight anyone.
But I couldn’t afford to look fragile. Not after failing every single Dragontail assignment. I had to prove I was more than acrown, that I was strong. And I had to show them I was worth my place in this legion.
So I stepped onto the mat in front of Rory Rey. I felt my magic disappear. It was the most terrifying feeling there was.
No sun. No fire.
Just me.
Just flesh.
Rory rolled her shoulders, relaxed. She didn’t even take a stance.
“This should be fun,” Rory said, practically energized. “I’ve always wanted to see what royal blood looks like.”
“Begin.” Professor Hog shouted. Everyone around us had gathered to watch. She came at me fast. No warmup. No mercy.
Her fist landed in my ribs before I could raise my guard.
I gasped.
“Thought you’d be stronger,” she muttered, circling me.
I barely blocked her next hit. She danced back, waiting.
I swung. Missed. She caught me across the jaw with a backhand.
“You don’t belong here,” she said, kicking low and sweeping my leg out from under me. I hit the stone. Hard.
I rolled, stood, shaking.
“You think your fire-wielding makes you one of us? You are not strong enough, emotionally, physically,” she hissed.