Page 105
Story: An Empress of Fire & Steel
“Well,” he said, leaning against the fireplace. “It is the Winter Solstice Ball soon…”
“Yeah?” Emara’s eyes widened.
“And it is a hunting tradition to get a gift for a female of choice.” He looked up at her. “I met someone, and she’s something else entirely.” His hazel-gold eyes turned molten as he mentioned her. “And I kind of want to catch her attention.”
This is not how she’d thought this conversation was going to go.
He coughed and straightened, puffing out his chest. “And so I would like to get her a gift. I am sure she will arrive with the rest of the Baxgroll pack for the celebrations.”
Emara choked. “The girl you want to give a gift to is Breighly Baxgroll?”
He nodded, looking down at his weapon belt and sorting through a few of the knives that didn’t need rearranged. Something on his face made Emara’s heart feel light. Was Artem Stryker being coy?
Never.
She clamped down on her lips. She couldn’t smile, not when he was being so unguarded.
“You’re a girl,” he said, squinting as he looked up.
“Thanks for stating the obvious, Artem.”
He signed a little. “What would you want as a present?”
The question threw her. She wasn’t quite sure if she had ever asked for a present before. Her grandmother used to get herself and Cally matching canes of sugar each year from the village, with their names squiggled in icing. And then when they became older, it was books or something for their rooms. Cally, however, would go all out with presents, and the more coin she earned, the more outrageous they would be. But Emara had never asked for anything specific.
Her heart cracked as she thought of the last gift Callyn had given her before the Uplift. Her crescent moon hair pin, dripping in stunning crystals. It was magical.
She almost whimpered. “Um…I don’t know. Something personal?”
He lowered his gaze, and all of a sudden, Artem looked innocent even though he was a large brute covered in ink and weapons.
Emara bit into her cheek. “She’s a wolf, right?”
“Yeah, and she has the temper of one too.” He laughed like that might be the sole reason for why he was fond of her.
“Why don’t you get her something that compliments who she is? To me, I think, deep down, Breighly would like something with little coin value, but high in sentiment.”
He took a long breath. “I have a few days to think, I suppose.” He turned and walked towards the door. Artem flung a glance over his shoulder. “Thanks for the advice, empress.”
“Any time, Stryker.”
His face lit up a little too much. “Get dressed.”
“Why are you smiling like that?”
“Because today is going to be a good day. I am joining your training session with Blacksteel.” He broke the threshold of the door as he walked backwards. “And I can’t wait to see what you’ve got.”
The clearing on the mountaintop was busier with hunters than she would have thought. Some of them were already warming up or doing drills to increase their heart rate, and it looked like the Selection. Well, in her mind it did. She had to give it to them, they made training efficient, even at the high elevation and moody clouds threatening bad weather.
Stalking in front of Artem in black training gear, she made it over to Torin, who had been eyeing her coming from the distance. He ran a blade through his fingers and the sincerity that had been in his features last night had been replaced by a diabolically handsome grin.
Her heart skipped a beat.
“I thought you might have slept all day long at this rate,” he purred.
Ignoring him, she asked “Why do we have to train outside?” Her teeth chattered as the wind iced her veins, pulling out parts of her braided hair. “Surely, the palace has a big enough room for us to practise in?”
“Of course, it does,” Torin said. “But we are not allowed.”
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