Page 10 of A Dagger in the Ivy (Blade Bound #1)

C Hapter

Indira leads us up the stairs and down a hall. I try to memorize the turns she makes as she leads us to our rooms, but I can’t stop thinking about whoever that Dante was and how unsettled he made me feel.

We stop in front of a large door where a uniformed guard stands. His hair is cropped short and his scruff-covered jaw is almost a perfect square. He’s not as big as Mylo, but he does have a good amount of muscle on him.

Indira turns to me and gestures to the man. “This is Sir Holden Hale. He is your Royal Ward, assigned to protect you.”

I give the guard a sheepish smile and then address Indira. “Is that absolutely necessary? I’m the commander of my country’s regiment. I know how to protect myself.”

Indira raises a dismissive hand. “He’s been appointed by the king, so I’m afraid you’ll have to speak with him about it.”

My gaze goes back to Sir Holden. “No offense.”

He keeps a straight face. “None taken, Your Highness.”

“Here we are, then.” Indira opens the large door and steps aside. I notice that she does not smile, and I wonder if it’s because of me, or if it’s just in her nature.

As I step into the luxurious chamber, I’m left momentarily speechless. Sunlight streams through the towering windows, casting a warm glow upon the room’s sumptuous furnishings. The walls are adorned with rich tapestries, their intricate designs depicting scenes of ancient battles and noble triumphs. Shades of deep crimson and gold dominate the color scheme, lending an air of regal splendor to the space.

My gaze is drawn to the exquisitely carved furniture that fills the room—a magnificent four-poster bed draped in swaths of magnificent silk, its intricately wrought frame a testament to the craftsmanship of the castle’s artisans. A plush, velvet chaise lounge beckons invitingly from a corner, its cushions plump and inviting. A polished mahogany desk stands against one wall, its surface littered with quills, ink pots, and scrolls.

Everywhere I look, there are signs of luxury and refinement—the softness of the plush rugs beneath my feet, the delicate porcelain vases filled with fresh blooms that adorn every surface, the flickering light of the crystal chandelier that hangs from the ceiling like a radiant jewel. It is a world of elegance and sophistication, a stark contrast to the simplicity of the barracks and tents I have called home for so long. I can’t help but feel a sense of awe and wonder wash over me. This room, this palace, is a world unto itself—a world of privilege and power, of secrets and intrigue. And now, it is my world too—a world I must navigate with grace and poise if I am to succeed in my new role as future queen.

“Can you believe this?” Nadya’s mouth hangs open as she scurries around the room, touching everything in sight.

“I hardly can.”

Indira moves past me and goes to tend to something on the side of the room. I realize it is one of my trunks she has opened. She begins unpacking, moving items of clothing to a beautiful chest of drawers. Her familiarity with the place makes me realize she could serve as a great source of information.

“Indira, who was that man who came into the great hall as we left?” I ask, unable to hide my curiosity .

“You mean Dante? He’s the prince’s half-brother.”

Half-brother? “Since when does he have a half-brother?”

“Dante came to the palace several years ago,” Indira explains.

“Oh.” That explains why I never met him. “So he’s a prince?”

Indira scoffs, but she immediately sobers and clears her throat. I think she forgot to whom she was speaking. “No, he’s not a prince. He’s a bastard. Mothered by another woman. He has no claim to the throne.”

This piece of information has caught Nadya’s interest. “That’s rather scandalous. Why is he here? Does he live here?”

Indira huffs, her mouth pulled down into a frown. “It’s not a scandal according to the king. Kings do as kings want. And Dante lives where he pleases. He has a room here, but he comes and goes on a whim. He has a manor, given to him by his father, out by Lake Peony, to which he disappears when he’s had enough of court life. He is fond of his brother and no one else, so unless you’re Prince Torbin, it’s best to stay out of Dante’s way.”

That might explain the look he gave me, but something tells me there’s more to it than that.

“I’ll be back shortly, Your Highness.” Indira wipes her hands on her apron. “I need to fetch fresh towels for your bathing chambers.”

As Indira shuts the door behind her, the sound of low-toned laughter reaches my ears. I turn my head immediately to the open double doors leading to the balcony. From the inner courtyard, voices and laughter of men float into the room. Nadya and I cast a glance at each other, both of us obviously intrigued by what might be occurring on the grounds. She giggles and gestures with her head, indicating that we should indulge in our curiosity.

Stepping out into the sunlit balcony of my room, Nadya and I are greeted by a scene of breathtaking beauty. Lush greenery surrounds us on all sides, a riot of color and life that seems to breathe with vitality. Ivy cascades down the walls in verdant curtains, its tendrils reaching out as if to embrace the world around it. Clusters of vibrant wildflowers dot the landscape, their petals unfurling in a kaleidoscope of hues: a symphony of crimson, gold, and azure .

The air is filled with the heady scent of blooming blossoms, their fragrance mingling with the fresh, earthy aroma of dew-kissed grass. Bees buzz lazily among the flowerbeds, their gentle hum adding to the tranquil ambiance of the courtyard.

In the center of the courtyard, a pristine fountain glistens in the sunlight, its waters sparkling like liquid crystal. Marble statues stand sentinel around its perimeter, their chiseled features frozen in eternal grace and beauty. The soothing sound of trickling water fills the air, a melody that seems to echo through the very heart of the citadel.

As I take in the serene splendor of the courtyard, I am filled with a sense of peace and tranquility. It is a sanctuary amidst the chaos of the world—a place where beauty reigns supreme, and nature’s wonders unfold in all their glory. And for a moment, as I stand amidst the ivy-clad walls and blooming flowers, I feel as though I have stepped into a world of pure enchantment.

Down below us, a group of people are gathered. A stack of haybales holds a bullseye target in front of them. I recognize the prince, traipsing near three others—a woman and two men, his laughter dominating their conversation. A bow hangs from the prince’s grasp, but the quiver of arrows stands on the ground at the foot of one of the men. But what draws my focus is the fact that the prince has discarded his shirt.

Nadya and I exchange mischievous looks, leaning our arms on the balcony’s iron balustrade as we watch. The scene below unfolds like a carefully choreographed dance, each movement fluid and precise. Torbin commands the attention of all those around him, his charismatic presence undeniable even from a distance.

“This time, I’ll do it with my eyes closed.” Torbin’s brag is received with low chuckles and encouragement.

I can’t help but admire the effortless grace with which he draws back the bowstring, his movements fluid and confident. His aim is true, each arrow finding its mark with unerring accuracy, eliciting cheers and applause from his companions.

“Quite the showman, isn’t he?” I can’t help but smile at Torbin’s theatrical display .

Nadya nods, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “ Quite a show.” She gives me a wink, and I know she’s not just talking about the arrows hitting their mark.

But even as we marvel at Torbin’s prowess, my gaze drifts to another figure among the group: a figure who sits under a nearby magnolia tree. I didn’t notice him at first because he’s obscured by branches and pink blossoms. He’s dressed in the same sleek, black outfit I saw him in earlier, and he lounges on a single haybale apart from the rest of the group with an air of quiet intensity. Dante, sharpening the falchion in his grip with a whetstone, exudes a silent confidence that sets him apart from his flamboyant half-brother.

“He’s not bad, either.” Nadya’s gaze lingers on Dante with unabashed curiosity.

I nod, unable to deny the magnetic pull of Dante’s presence. There’s a certain rawness to him, and I wonder again if his cold stare was his usual expression, or if it was something personal.

“No applause from my little brother?” Torbin faces his brother. I can just make out his smirk from this distance.

“Nice shot.” Dante’s tone is laced with playful sarcasm. “But let’s see if you can hit the target when you’re not three feet in front of it.”

“I’m at least thrice that distance, not that you’re paying any attention.”

Dante blows the particles from the whetstone. “I see all, Brother. Even when I’m not looking. As for you, perhaps you need to have your eyes checked. You’re so close to the target, you could spit on it.”

Torbin lets out a hearty laugh. “Why so grumpy, Brother?”

As the two banter, the others look on, crossing their arms and smiling as if watching a theater performance.

“I’m having a bad day.” Dante grabs the piece of leather from beside him and rubs it along the blade of his weapon. “And I’m in an irritable mood. I think it’s called being human.”

“But you’re not all human, are you?” Torbin gives him a teasing smile.

“Hmm. Maybe the human half is the problem. I mean, if I feel this bad being only half-human, you must be miserable.”

Half-human? What’s the other half? I can’t help but wonder if he’s fae.

Torbin chuckles, the sound full of mischief as he notches another arrow. “Oh, come now, Dante. Surely, you’re not still sore about that time I beat you in our last archery contest?”

Dante stands. “You didn’t beat me—you cheated. Every arrow you gave me was bent. And besides, we both know I’m the superior swordsman.”

Torbin laughs, a carefree sound that fills the air with warmth. “Is that so, Brother?” he teases, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Well, I suppose we’ll just have to settle this once and for all, won’t we? A duel to determine who is the true master of the blade.”

As Dante steps out from beneath the magnolia tree, I get a better look at him. The fit of his clothes enhances his tall, athletic build. The high-collared jacket he wears is perfectly tailored to give him an elegant yet formidable appearance. The material of the jacket is smooth and catches the light subtly, adding to the overall impression of sophistication. The sable color of the outfit complements his rich, tan-colored skin. Underneath, a dark shirt is visible, contributing to the seamless, monochromatic look.

Dante raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk crossing his features. “I’d like to propose a more challenging contest.”

“What might that be?”

“Have one of your friends hold the target above their head.”

“All right.” Torbin points at one of the group members. “Sam, you look strong enough to hold a haybale.”

Sam’s smile disappears. He rubs the back of his neck, his dirty-blond hair flopping as he walks over to the target. “Of course, Your Highness.”

The others in the group regard each other. I can’t tell if they are intrigued or frightened by this new development. I’m also not sure how I feel about it myself. I suppose it isn’t too different from the one-upmanship I’ve witnessed between Mylo and Isaac.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Dante says as he nears his brother. “No arrows. We use our swords.”

He can’t be serious. Swords? I could easily hit the target from here with my dagger, but hurling long blades through the air so close to a man’s head? It seems extreme.

Torbin’s eyes widen for a moment, and then his smile expands. “I like the way you think, Brother.” He unsheathes the blade at his side. When he raises it into the air, I see that it’s no ordinary sword. A shining, silver sabre gleams in the sunlight. I can’t see much detail from where I stand, but from what I can observe, the craftsmanship is exquisite. “Sam, lift the bale above your head.”

“Happy to, Your Highness.” Sam doesn’t look happy. He hauls the bale to chest level and then grunts as he raises it above his head. At first, it seems like it’s not a difficult task, but the longer he holds the bale, the more his arms begin to shake.

“Would you like to go first?” Torbin asks Dante.

“After you.” Dante extends an arm and backs out of Torbin’s way.

My skin feels prickly, and I can’t tear my eyes away.

Torbin studies the target, positioning his feet. “Sam, keep still.”

Sam, who appears to be sweating now, does not answer.

Torbin raises his sword and points it at the target. He stretches his arm up and out a few times, measuring the weight of his weapon as he aims it.

I can barely breathe. I’m also very impressed with Sam’s loyalty.

When Torbin throws the sabre, it whips through the air at high speed. Sam wobbles back as step as the blade strikes. I release my breath, relieved that the sabre has impaled the target and not his friend. It looks like it hit six inches from the center, which is pretty remarkable.

Torbin grins and faces his brother, as if waiting for his congratulations.

“Not bad.” Dante moves into position, elbowing Torbin out of the way.

Dante takes no time at all to throw his falchion. Sam lets out a yelp as he tumbles backward and lands on his backside. It happens so fast, I have to blink. I hold my breath until I see the fallen man move his legs. Torbin rushes over to Sam, but instead of checking on the wellbeing of his friend, he inspects the bullseye.

“Shit.” Torbin rubs his chin.

Not only was Dante swift, but the falchion hit dead center.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Dante saunters over to the target and pulls out his sword.

“So smug.” Torbin releases a huff of a laugh. “You’re actually enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Dante sheathes his falchion. “No, I’m reveling in it.”

Torbin extends a hand to Sam to help him up. Once his friend is on his feet, Torbin slaps him on the back.

“You should come hunting with me, Brother,” Torbin calls.

“I’d rather not.” Dante picks up his whetstone and leather. “What’s the old saying? A lion waits for his prey to come to him, like a patient predator.”

“Let’s have another go. Best two out of three.”

Dante walks off toward the castle, not bothering to turn around. “I don’t think you really want to embarrass yourself further, or are you a glutton for punishment?”

“So you’re just going to walk away?”

“I prefer to think of it as a slow, confident stroll of victory.”

He disappears from my view, and I straighten.

Nadya fans herself with her hand. “I think I’m going to like it here.”

Before I can respond, the door to my room flies open, and Indira enters, carrying a pile of folded towels. “Enough dallying. Time to get ready.”