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“I’m sure it’ll come back to you quickly enough,” Jaren said, unlinking his hand from Kiva’s suddenly numb fingers and standing as well.

“Jaren, mate,” Caldon murmured, seeing Kiva’s rapidly paling face, “maybe you should —”

“It’s just a friendly match,” Jaren said, but despite his words, his eyes were glacial. To Torell, he waved a hand toward the doors. “Shall we?”

Kiva silently pleaded with her brother, but Tor only sent her the smallest of reassuring smiles that did absolutely nothing to calm her.

“Boys and their swords,” Mirryn said, sighing as she too rose, along with everyone else around the table. She turned to Zuleeka and rolled her eyes in a distinctly unprincess-like manner. “Thank the gods that we women have much more sophisticated methods of working through our feelings.”

“While I agree with you on principle, I’m sure you and I have very different coping techniques,” Zuleeka said. Quickly, but with an undeniable hint of mockery, she tacked on, “Your Highness.”

Mirryn’s eyes narrowed, not missing the scorn in those final two words.

Afraid she’d have to pull both her siblings out of the royal dungeons if they didn’t start showing some gods-damned respect, Kiva shot a warning look at Zuleeka before hurrying after her brother and Jaren.

Naari kept pace beside her, the guard having remained silent during lunch, watching for any sign of a threat from Kiva’s family. But now she offered a comforting glance and murmured, “Don’t worry. Jaren knows what he’s doing.”

Kiva wasn’t so sure.

“He won’t hurt your brother,” Naari promised. “You know he’d never let any harm come to someone you care about.”

The statement pierced Kiva, since she knew it was true. Jaren wouldn’t hurt Tor — but what ifTorhurtJaren?Her brother had spent the last decade training to be a warrior, ageneral.What if —

“Breathe, Sunshine,” Caldon said, stepping up on her other side. “Everything will be fine.”

That was easy for him to say. Two of the people he cared most for in the world weren’t about to go head-to-head in a “friendly” sparring match.

Trying to remain calm, Kiva stepped outside with Tipp skipping along beside them, and Mirryn and Zuleeka trailing behind. All too soon they were in the training yard, where Torell was already holding a sword and facing Jaren, both of their blades raised into attack positions.

“Can’t you stop this?” Kiva begged Naari, begged Caldon, begged anyone who would listen.

“I think it’s best if he gets this out of his system, Sweet Cheeks,” Caldon said, circling an arm around her shoulders.

“Truly, Kiva,” Naari said. “I wouldn’t let this go ahead if I was worried — about either of them.”

Kiva appreciated the guard’s confidence, but Naari didn’t know how skilled Torell was. Hell,Kivadidn’t know, having never seen him in action. She had, however, seen Jaren sparring with Caldon and Captain Veris, sometimes both at once, with Naari jumping in as well. She’d also seen how fast he’d reacted to Zuleeka’s attack at the Red House, and how capably he’d fended off the rebels. Recalling all of that helped ease some of the suffocating fear in her chest.

And then it returned with a vengeance when their swords began flying through the air, a blur of parries and lunges, overhead strikes and underarmed thrusts.

An appreciative whistle came from Caldon. “Just when I thought your brother couldn’t be more attractive.” There was a dry edge to his voice as he added, “Who’d have thought being a blacksmith would result inthat?”

Kiva didn’t respond, too busy watching the match. Her brother’s moves were as faultless as Jaren’s, something that made Naari shift uneasily, but the guard didn’t intervene. That was likely because she’d noticed what Kiva was beginning to suspect: Jaren and Torell were sparring with fervor, but they were also holding back.

“I’m curious,” Jaren said casually between strikes, his voice carrying over to where Kiva and the others stood, “how you felt knowing your sister was in prison for so long.” He deflected Torell’s blade without effort. “Was it easier just to forget about her? To act like she’d never existed?”

Stomach clenching, Kiva stepped forward, but Caldon’s arm tightened around her.

“Wait,” he said quietly.

“I thought about her every day,” Tor replied, feinting to the left. “Imissedher every day.”

Jaren saw through the feint and swung his sword in an arc, Tor hurrying to meet his blade in a clash of steel that left Kiva’s ears ringing.

“And yet, you did nothing,” Jaren said, panting slightly from everything he was feeling. “You just left her there. On her own. Achild.”

“You make it sound like we had a choice,” Torell snapped, his emerald eyes fierce as he launched into a series of lightning-fast strikes.

“She wasseven years old,” Jaren all but yelled as he ducked, jumped, and dodged Tor’s attacks, before returning his own set of counter-strikes in quick succession. “She lost overhalf her lifeto that miserable place, and you, herbeloved brother” — a quick thrust forward that Tor barely managed to deflect — “left her in there torot.”