Page 26 of A Dagger in the Ivy (Blade Bound #1)

C Hapter

I’m awoken by a body bouncing on my bed. I blink, slowly taking in the fact that Nadya is lying beside me. She smiles at me and tucks her hands under the pillow next to mine.

“Good morning.” She giggles, and I can smell the wine on her breath.

“Nadya. You’re drunk. You should get some sleep.”

“I did.”

I turn to face her. “Oh, really? Did you sleep well?”

“As well as I can in an unfamiliar bed.”

“I’m pretty sure you did more drinking than sleeping.”

“Oops.” She covers her mouth and giggles again. “But did you sleep? No wandering?”

I bristle, my face growing warm. I wish she didn’t know about my problem, but she’s been at my side since we were children, and she was bound to find out about them at some point. She’s caught me a few times when we lived at the Garrison, but as far as I know, she hasn’t seen me do it here. “No,” I lie, not wanting her to worry.

“Will you threaten to cut my head off if I ask about your magic?” Her drunken state has obviously stripped her of her inhibitions.

“You mean lack of it.”

“Nothing more has manifested?”

I sigh. “Nothing more than the basic fae powers.”

She closes her eyes, pressing her cheek against the pillow. “I wish I could stay in bed, but I have lessons.”

“ We have lessons.” I shift to a sitting position. “Actually, no. I have lessons. Ezra promised I could train today.”

“Right. But don’t worry, I won’t abandon you.” Her eyes are still closed, so I’m not sure she means it.

I swing my legs over the bed and stroll to my chest to find something to wear.

The door opens, and Indira walks in. She stops short when she spots Nadya in my bed. “I don’t know why we even bothered making up a room for her; she never sleeps in it.”

I give Indira a small smile. “Nadya’s the kind of person who thrives with human contact.”

“She must be thriving vigorously,” Indira mumbles as she carries fresh towels to the bathing room.

“I heard that,” Nadya says into the pillow.

I pull out trousers and a blouse and lay them on the armchair near my wardrobe.

Indira shakes her head as she comes back into the room, her arms full of the used towels from yesterday. “The queen gave you so many dresses.”

“But I’m sword training today,” I explain. “I’d rather not accidentally cut up one the beautiful dresses from the queen.”

“Hasn’t stopped you before.” Indira purses her lips.

A giggle bubbles up from Nadya’s pillow.

Ignoring Indira’s aversion to my clothing choices, I ask her to plait back my hair to avoid it getting in my way. It takes her no time at all, and when she’s finished, we both raise our brows to the sound of Nadya snoring.

“I’m not certain she’ll be joining you for breakfast,” Indira says .

I can tell she’s holding back a smile, despite her complaints about Nadya.

Exiting my bedchamber, I nod to my sworn protector. “You can stay here, Sir Holden. Nadya has fallen asleep in my room, and I’d hate for her to be disturbed.”

He inclines his head. “Of course, Your Highness.”

The king’s plate is piled high when I enter the dining hall. I hedge my bets, assuming he won’t abandon his planned feast, and take the opportunity to confront him about the status of the trade deal.

“Good morning, Your Majesties.” I curtsey before I take my seat. “I hope all is well between the realms.”

The king gives me a sideways glance as he chews a roasted potato. “As well as can be expected.”

The queen sits so perfectly still, I would think she was a statue. A second goes by, and then it’s as if she’s only now realized I am sitting at the table. She gives me a closed-mouth smile, then returns to staring at her dish.

I return my attention to the king. “Does that mean Mersos has responded to your proposal?”

He takes a long swig of his wine. It’s as if he’s biding his time or trying to figure out how to answer. “Farvis,” he calls to his royal advisor, “have we any further word from Mersos?”

Farvis, who stands beside the king’s ward, steps forward. “No, your majesty. The last nightfeather to arrive from Mersos was ten days ago. And as you know, they stated they would consider the proposal and reply after deliberations.”

“I see.” I’m not sure I believe Farvis, but there’s no way I can prove he’s lying. At least, not at this moment.

The dining hall doors open, and I stiffen when Dante strolls in. His eyes flash when he spots me, and I can’t help but think of the heat of his hands on me when he held me on the ramparts. But then I remember he shot a crossbow in my direction, nearly making impact with my head, and my nostrils flare. I remind myself to suppress my rage, especially in front of the king and queen .

Dante takes a seat, only acknowledging the king and queen before pouring himself a mug of kahva.

I butter my roll, and Torbin’s absence reminds me that he’s left for his hunting excursion. His brashness in the woods still leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, so much that I can only finish half my roll before pushing my chair back from the table.

“Going so soon?” Dante’s voice has a slight teasing lilt to it.

“I have lessons.” I curtsey to the king and queen then make my way out to the hall. I only make it halfway down the corridor to the courtyard before Dante falls into step beside me.

I give him a sideways glance, continuing on my path. “Why are you following me?”

“I heard you have sword training today.”

How does he know that? “Have you taken to spying on me now?”

He ignores my question. “If you haven’t heard, I’m quite skilled with a sword myself. I thought perhaps I could step in to train with you.”

“Why do I feel like you’ve got an ulterior motive?”

He’s quiet for a minute as he walks alongside me. And then he breaks the silence. “Have you told the magister about your midnight excursions?”

“What?” I don’t mean for my voice to come out so harsh.

“Have you told him? Yes or no?”

“I… haven’t told anyone.” I drop my gaze. “I mean, Nadya knows that I sometimes… But no. He doesn’t know.”

“It might be wise to tell him.”

I clench my jaw as Dante’s words cut through the air like a whip, his suggestion hanging between us like a dark cloud. Tell the magister? The very thought sends a shiver down my spine, igniting a fierce resistance within me—a stubborn refusal to lay bare my vulnerabilities for all to see.

“I don’t see why I should.” My voice is edged with defiance as I meet his gaze head-on. “It’s none of his business.”

Dante’s expression remains impassive, his grey eyes flickering with a hint of something unreadable—a silent challenge that sets my nerves on edge. “ He might understand the condition. Perhaps he could suggest something that might help you.”

I stop and turn to face him. “Or he could expose me to the king. And then what? He’ll think I’m mad and call off the wedding.”

“I know Ezra.” He dips his head a fraction of an inch. “He is a discreet man and would be trustworthy.”

I scoff at his words, my frustration bubbling to the surface like molten lava. “Why are you so eager to share my secrets?”

A steely resolve settles into the lines of his face. “It’s not about sharing secrets. It’s about finding answers.”

“Why do you even care?” The question slips from my lips before I can stop it.

Dante’s gaze flickers, his expression momentarily faltering before he schools it into a mask of stoic indifference. “It’s my duty,” he replies, his voice firm and unwavering. “To keep an eye on you, as promised to my brother.”

The tension between us crackles like lightning, a palpable force that threatens to consume us both.

“Why don’t we let fate decide?” Dante crosses his arms.

“‘Fate’?”

“You’re training today, are you not?”

I furrow my brow. I realize I never answered him the first time he asked. “Yes.”

“Here’s my challenge: I will train with you. If you’re able to disarm me, you can keep your secret to yourself, and I will never bring up the subject again. But if I disarm you, you must reveal your wandering episodes to the magister.”

“That’s not really leaving it up to fate. That’s a matter of skill.”

He shrugs. “Do you accept my challenge, Celeste?”

I can only blink—because I think it’s the first time Dante has ever said my name. I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry as dust. I feel off-balance, but I steel myself. I can’t show him any weakness.

Despite my initial reluctance, there’s a part of me that can’t resist the thrill of the challenge, the opportunity to prove myself against him. “ I accept.”

Ezra seems surprised to see Dante entering his lesson room, righting his posture and straightening his robes. “Your Highness,” he begins, obviously taking Dante’s presence into consideration while addressing me, “Lord Stregasi, a pleasure to see you both this morning.”

“Magister Kadmiel, I’d like to offer myself as the princess’s training partner today.”

“How wonderful.” Ezra dips his head. “The gods have smiled upon her to have such a master swordsman at her disposal.”

“What’s this?” I ask Ezra, pointing to a pile of books on the seat usually occupied by Nadya.

“Nadya has shown some interest in historical accounts from the Age of Dragons. I found a few books on the subject she may wish to peruse.”

“History books?” I let out a small laugh. “That’s new. I’ve only ever seen her reading fiction.”

“Perhaps her interests are expanding.” His attention is drawn over my shoulder. “Ah, there she is now.”

Though there are still dark circles under her eyes, Nadya appears cleaned up, wearing a new dress and the tangles brushed out of her hair. “Good morning. Are those for me?”

“You are welcome to borrow them, as long as you return them in good condition.” Ezra interlocks his fingers.

“Thank you, Ezra. I’m grateful.” She studies the titles as I turn to Dante.

“Shall we?” Though I feel the need to work my muscles and practice my aim, I’m also anxious to prove to Dante that I can match his skill with a sword.

“After you.” Dante holds his arm out, gesturing for me to proceed before him.

The four of us stroll out to the training area in the courtyard. Dante picks out two training swords for us, handing me one with a small grin on his face.

“Don’t expect me to keep score.” Nadya holds up a book. “I’ll be reading under that tree. ”

I give her a nod before she traipses to sit under the magnolia tree. She leans against it as she immerses herself in whatever story she’s invested in.

“There is no need to keep score,” Ezra says to me. “This is simply training for the purpose of maintaining your skill and agility.” He gives us both a slight bow before joining Nadya under the tree, standing beside her as he watches us.

Dante and I exchange a look, the challenge he’s extended to me prompting our confident expressions. I know he’s good, but I’ve been fighting in battles for well over a year. And my skills date back to me practicing with my brother when we were young. The only thing giving me pause is that, while I have practiced moves taught by my uncle, moves based in regiment tutelage, Dante is used to a more untamed and unpredictable style.

As Dante and I handle our training swords, I can’t help but notice the fluid grace of his movements, the effortless way he wields the blade with precision and skill. There’s a primal energy in the air as we circle each other, our eyes locked in a silent battle of wills.

“Ready when you are, Highness.”

I nod once and adjust my stance.

When the first strike comes, I barely manage to parry in time, the impact sending a jolt of adrenaline coursing through my veins.

Dante quickly shifts his footing. “Is that all you’ve got, little pirate? I thought you were supposed to be the best in your regiment.”

“Just warming up, Dante. Don’t want to embarrass you too quickly.”

We dance across the training grounds, our movements a blur of steel and muscle as we trade blow for blow.

“Your stance is all wrong.” He says it as if he’s simply pointing out dust on my shoulder. “Were you planning to trip over your own feet?”

“Maybe I was planning to trip you instead.” I lunge forward, only missing him by an inch. “Watch your step.”

Despite his skill, I refuse to back down, determination burning bright within me as I meet each of his strikes with unwavering resolve.

Dante smirks. “You’re getting slow. Have you been slacking off, or are you just afraid to hit me?”

I don’t fall for his mind tricks. “Afraid? Of you? Don’t flatter yourself. I’m just giving you a fighting chance.”

I swing, and as Dante dodges the blow, he turns so that he’s closer to me. He catches me off guard by wrapping his arm around my waist and sweeping my feet out from beneath me. My head spins as we both crash to the ground. I land with a thud, the breath knocked from my lungs with Dante on top of me. His gaze is dark and intense as he pins me beneath him.

For a moment, time seems to stand still as we lock eyes, the heat of his body searing against mine as I struggle to catch my breath. His proximity is dizzying, sending my heart into a frantic rhythm as I feel the warmth of his breath against my skin.

His eyes are so grey. Like a storm at sea. “Looks like you’ve lost your sword, Highness.”

I crank my head to the side, taking in the sight of my empty hand.

Fuck!

I turn my head to face him. His gaze travels down to my chest, where his weight presses against me, and back up again. Heat floods my core. The only thing keeping me grounded is the smug grin on his face.

“Get off me,” I manage to choke out, my voice trembling with a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. Despite the intensity of the moment, there’s a flicker of amusement in Dante’s gaze as he finally relents, rising to his feet with a smirk that sends a shiver down my spine.

He holds a hand out to me, but I refuse it. I’m very aware of the way my body is reacting to him, and I need to minimize any touching. As I pick myself up from the ground, I can’t help but feel the lingering heat of his nearness, the memory of our close encounter lingering between us like an unspoken temptation.

I dust myself off, avoiding eye contact.

Nadya, seeing that we’ve stopped swinging our swords, closes the book she’s reading and places it on the ground. She stretches her arms before heading our way.

Ezra frowns, bending down to pick up the book .

Dante stands close to me, his chin held high. “I believe we had an agreement, Highness.”

I press my lips into a straight line. “That doesn’t mean I must do it today.”

“Do what?” Nadya asks, coming to stand beside me.

I open my mouth but can’t bring myself to tell her. I glance at Ezra, who is still under the tree, dusting off the book.

“We had a deal,” Dante says to her. He looks between us before he continues. “If I disarm her, she must tell the magister about her… sleeping problems.”

I glare at Dante, fury rising to the surface. “You are overstepping,” I warn him. It’s not his place to tell her any of this.

He meets my glare without flinching. “Someone has to, Celeste. You can’t keep running from this forever. Face it now, or it will only get worse.”

I grind my teeth, clenching my fists so I don’t lash out, but before I can retort, Dante throws the practice sword down and saunters away.

“Celeste.” Nadya’s eyes are wide as she shakes her head. “I didn’t know.”

“How could you? You’re in a different room every night.”

When she flinches, I immediately regret saying it. My anger is not intended to be directed at her.

Nadya lowers her head and bites the inside of her cheek.

“Nadya, I’m sorry,” I hurry to say. “I didn’t mean—”

“No, you’re right.” She nods slowly. “I came here to look out for you. To be your friend, especially in a time of need. But I’ve failed you.”

“No. Don’t say that.” I take her hands in mine. “You haven’t failed me. You asked me about it, and I lied to you. That’s on me. Besides, I can’t expect you to fix my problems.”

“And maybe I can’t.” Nadya a crisp nod. “But the magister could. Dante is right. You should tell Ezra.”

The sigh I let out is full of regret. “All right.” I turn to see Ezra approaching us. “Let’s tell him.”

I sit across from Ezra in the lesson room, my palms clammy, and the weight of my secret pressing down upon me like a leaden cloak.

The magister’s gaze remains steady, his expression thoughtful as he processes my confession. “The condition is not unheard of, but I do understand your concerns. Not only because it is dangerous to have no control over where you wander, but because of the possibility of it being a side effect of your fae heritage.” His tone is measured and deliberate. “It is true that those who do not or cannot manifest their powers by the breaching age are prone to madness, and your night wanderings could be a symptom.”

His words send a shiver down my spine.

“Could there be any other reason? I can’t understand why it’s always accompanied by the same dream.”

“Our dreams sometimes try to send us a message about ourselves.” He inclines his head but keeps his focus on me. “Your mother apologizing to you might be your mind’s way of trying to forgive her.”

“Forgive her for what?”

“For abandoning you.”

I shake my head. “She didn’t abandon me. She died.”

“Yes, but you were left without her. In your heart, you may have felt abandoned.”

I try to wrap my head around that. “And the stabbing?”

“Is it always close to your heart?”

I hold a hand to my chest. “The dagger never goes directly into my heart, but close, yes.”

“That might just be the logical part of your brain interfering. If the dagger went into your heart, you would not survive. You know this, and your mind won’t let you be killed in your dream.”

I glance at Nadya, who nods, as if telling me she agrees with what Ezra is telling me.

“The wandering itself could be a pull of sorts, the fae in you seeking the latent magic, to answer the call of destiny that binds you to a fate beyond your control.”

A silence hovers between us as I take in his words. I suppose there is no hiding from the reality of my fae heritage, and if my inner fae is seeking the magic I’m supposed to have, then I have to believe there must be some way of attaining it.

“I can’t keep your nightmares at bay,” he says, rising from his seat and moving over to his work table. “But I can lend a hand with the wandering. I have a powder which you can add to a drink of wine or water before you go to bed. It will relax your muscles enough to prevent you from leaving your bed in the night.”

He rummages through his potions and bottles and jars until he reappears, coming around the table to place a small, ceramic container in my hand.

I lift the lid and find the container filled with a fine, white powder.

“A pinch should do the trick. Takes a few minutes to work, and it should wear off by morning.” He clasps his hands together in front of him.

I take a breath and then glance up at him, my heart thudding with concern. “Can I trust you to keep this between us?”

He dips his head, a small smile forming. “Your secret is safe with me.”