Page 141 of Obsidian Throne

I neatly dodged it, slicing mine across his thighs before doing it once again across his neck. Then I brought my boot up, kicking him backwards into the melee behind him.

My attention slid back to Andrei, to where his lifeless eyes stared blankly ahead. Bitter bile crept up my throat.

We had all known the stakes when we marched on the palace, but somehow, I hadn’t expected to count him among the casualties. An unreasonable part of me still wanted to go to him, to check for some sign that he was still alive.

But the attacks were relentless.

And the reality was that even if I had been able to get to him, I had spent weeks in the sick tent at the battlefront. I knew what death looked like.

There was nothing to be done for him.

My stomach twisted, but this battle was far from over.

I forcibly averted my eyes when other soldiers stepped on and over Andrei’s body in an effort to get to me, taking out every ounce of fury I had on each and every one of them.

Lightning flashed and thunder roared just outside the windows, rattling the panes with the intensity of the storm I had unwittingly called, as I stood, ready to unleash one of my own.

CHAPTER EIGHTY-FIVE

EVANDER

Korhonan was lending his hand to the fray, but the other dukes were milling about, looking uncertain.

I only had eyes for Iiro. For the blade he was drawing in his right hand as he reached for that of his fallen guard with his left.

I was at a disadvantage here since I had promised to keep him alive, but I was also the far better swordsman. Still, I wasn’t naïve enough to be off my guard.

I advanced without hesitation.

“Tell me, Iiro,” I said, going on the offensive with a strike he parried. “Did you know who my stepmother was?”

He sneered. “It wasn’t hard to guess.”

“Then why help her?” I wasn’t sure why it mattered after all these years, but I found myself asking anyway, told myself it was my way of distracting him.

“With your father’s mind already going, I assumed she might prove useful one day.” He managed to shrug and attack at the same time, a lightning-fast movement of his sword that reminded me of the many duels he had won before he stopped going in the ring. “Which I was right about.”

And of course, he hadn’t cared about the collateral damage, not when he was laying careful, long-term plans for his rule.

“By getting my father to sign off on your monarchy, then later killing him?” I asked.

He didn’t answer, but his silence was confirmation enough. Bolstered by a new wave of ire, I attacked with a relentless speed. There was no more room for conversation amidst a blur of strikes and parries.

Iiro might have been a masterful swordsman at one point, but he had gotten lazy. Sloppy. Arrogant in his rule.

And in the end, that was his undoing.

He faltered under the nonstop slew of hits I was delivering his way, overstepping in his dodge, and I used the momentum to send him flying to the ground.

With both of my blades at his throat, he had no choice but to drop his weapons. I kicked them far from his reach.

Lifting my eyes to survey the battle, I immediately spotted my wife, fighting like I had never seen before. Her blades whipped through the air, slicing through her enemies with an unmatched speed and precision.

She was death itself, dealing swift judgment with each of her blows.

I forced myself to look away from her, meeting Iiro’s gaze once again. Lowering my sword to his throat, I pressed the tip of the blade into his skin, enough to draw a single drop of blood.

I wasn’t going to kill him, but he didn’t know that. Still, he only glared at me, refusing to show fear, even on the brink of death.