Seven Black Diamonds (Seven Black Diamonds #1)(71)
“No sister to me,” Calder spat.
Torquil drew his sword, moving into a position that had his blade raised high overhead like an oxen’s horns. “I would willingly bleed out every drop of my blood for Eilidh.”
“So be it.” Calder’s blade swung toward Torquil, whose own sword met it with a sharp ring of steel on steel.
Rhys was still in position awaiting this inevitable moment. It was far from the first time the two royal sons had crossed blades, but the sight of it always filled Eilidh with horror.
Nacton came in for a scalp cut, but Rhys knocked the sword away easily with his blade. The two eldest fae princes watched each other and feinted a few times. Rhys, in truth, was likely just toying with Nacton. That didn’t make the fight any less traumatic for Eilidh.
They exchanged blows, each movement precise enough to make obvious that the two fighters anticipated the strikes as quickly as they were employed. The air was filled with the sharp clatters and sinuous slides as their swords met, pressed, and met again.
“Stop this foolishness!” Eilidh snarled at the four of them. Regardless of what she felt toward her Seelie brothers, having any of their blood flow would result in anger from one of her parents.
No one even deigned to reply.
Rhys was dominating the fight, and after several minutes, he hit Nacton with the flat of his blade—an insult that provoked an ugly word and sudden burst of attempted cuts from the Seelie prince.
Simultaneously, Calder swung his sword forcefully enough that only Torquil’s agility spared him from genuine injury.
Louder, Eilidh repeated, “I said stop.”
Solid walls of earth surged up between Calder and Torquil.
Calder immediately tried to go around it, and Eilidh sighed in irritation as she bent the earth like a prison around him. “Do you truly want to challenge me? I am the only fae who could kill Father’s son with impunity.” With one brother imprisoned, she turned to her other Seelie brother. “I will not have you kill my betrothed or my brother because you hate me.”
Nacton lowered his sword and glared at her. Rhys and Torquil lowered their weapons as well, but they both kept their attention on the Seelie fae.
“Do not make this more unpleasant than it already has been,” she managed to say in a falsely steady voice. The combination of her emotions and the forceful use of one of her affinities made her slightly shaky. It wouldn’t do for any of them to know that, however, so she forced the tremor away.
Torquil and Rhys came to stand on either side of her, as if they were all at a formal gathering. They still had weapons at the ready. Although Seelie fae were thought by humans as more benevolent, the Seelie were just as untrustworthy as the Unseelie, and the princes were both particularly biased against Rhys.
Calder’s earthen prison exploded outward, and if Torquil hadn’t pulled air to him like a shield, they would all have been knocked to the ground by the force.
“Bitch!” Calder’s blade swept upward into the falcone position, the sword raised high like a bird of prey waiting to strike. In the next moment, he swung on a downward diagonal that would very likely be a fatal strike.
Before he could touch her, Calder’s sword was knocked away by Nacton. “Stop. We are done here. I have said my piece, and that one”—he nodded at Eilidh—“understands that her time is limited.”
Rhys tensed at Eilidh’s side, but he merely said, “The queen will not take this kindly when she hears of it.”
“That matters little to me,” Calder said. “She is no mother or queen to me, and the king won’t let her strike us—else it would’ve happened the first time we attacked you.”
“Stop,” Nacton ordered his brother. He might not be reasonable, but he understood that there were limits to how far they could push the Queen of Blood and Rage.
Calder turned and stormed off, leaving Nacton alone with them.
Eilidh met her Seelie brother’s gaze and vowed, “I have no need of enmity between us, but there will be if you harm or cause Torquil and Rhys to be harmed.”
“I think you misunderstand the role of guards,” Nacton said.
She shook her head. “Don’t be droll, Nacton. I know their roles, but I am also my mother’s daughter. Injuring those who are mine, those I love, would necessitate my showing you exactly how much of the queen’s blood propels this broken body. I can be as calm as our father . . . until harm comes to my loved ones.”
None of the three fae spoke for a moment. Eilidh kept her Seelie brother’s gaze until Nacton nodded and said, “The warning is noted.”
Once he left, Eilidh turned to Rhys and Torquil.
Rhys stared at her with something akin to hope on his face. If he were any other fae, she might even suggest there was fear in his eyes. When he realized she was staring at him, he straightened his features into their usual implacable mask, but his words belied his mien. “Love, sister? How did you form such an extreme lie without pain?”
“There was no lie, Rhys.” Eilidh reached out and squeezed her brother’s forearm. “You are my brother, and I love you—as I love Mother, and Lilywhite, and Father.”
Rhys said nothing.
“Your son could love you too,” she added. “He was unsettled tonight, but what else could he do? Your blood runs in him. Mother’s blood. Ours is not a family known to respond gracefully to surprises.”