Blood and Loyalty

Chapter 9 : Shadows Of The Morning

The sun had barely begun its ascent when Devorah stirred awake. The golden light seeped through the heavy curtains, casting long streaks across the polished floors of her luxurious chamber. The air was still, thick with the quiet tension of a world that never truly rested.

She sat up slowly, her mind immediately sharpening. The previous night had been... different. Softer, in a way she hadn't expected. Sean had let his guard down just enough for her to glimpse something beneath his usual smirks and calculated words. But she knew better than to mistake a moment of ease for genuine trust.

A knock at the door snapped her from her thoughts. Devorah quickly composed herself before granting permission to enter.

A servant stepped in, bowing respectfully. "His Highness requests your presence in the training grounds."

Training grounds?

She kept her expression neutral as she nodded, dismissing the servant. If Sean wanted to test her in combat, she would oblige—but she wouldn't be reckless. This was another game, another layer to his never-ending attempts to dissect her.

Devorah dressed quickly, securing her long hair away from her face before strapping on her weapon—a blade she had deliberately chosen for its practicality over flair. As she made her way through the palace halls, she noted the hushed whispers of passing nobles, their eyes lingering on her with curiosity and caution.

She had caused a stir.

Good.

The training grounds were vast, encircled by towering walls that kept the outside world at bay. Several warriors were already present, their sparring matches creating the rhythmic clash of steel on steel. The scent of dust and sweat filled the air.

And then there was Sean.

He stood at the center of it all, his usual regal attire replaced with something more fitting for battle—dark, fitted armor that allowed ease of movement. He was speaking to one of his generals but turned the moment she arrived.

A slow smirk curled his lips. "You’re late."

Devorah raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't given a time."

Sean chuckled, tossing a wooden practice sword toward her. She caught it effortlessly, eyeing him warily.

"Humor me," he said.

This was a test. Not just of skill but of how far she would go—how much she would reveal.

She tightened her grip on the weapon, stepping onto the sand-covered ground as Sean motioned for the others to clear the area. A circle formed around them, warriors and nobles alike pausing their own activities to watch.

Devorah rolled her shoulders, meeting Sean’s gaze.

"Try to keep up, Prince."

He laughed—right before lunging.

Their blades met in a sharp, resounding crack. The force behind his strike was strong, but she absorbed it, twisting her body to deflect and counter in one smooth motion. Sean barely evaded, stepping back just enough to reassess.

The crowd murmured.

Devorah didn’t give him time to regroup. She pressed forward, striking with precise movements, pushing him to defend rather than attack. She could see the flicker of amusement in his eyes, the way his smirk deepened as their weapons clashed in rapid succession.

And then, just as quickly as it had begun, he shifted his stance.

Devorah recognized the change a second too late. Sean knocked her weapon from her grasp, the wooden blade skidding across the ground. Before she could retrieve it, he was behind her, an arm wrapping around her waist as he pulled her against him.

A collective hush fell over the onlookers.

Sean leaned in slightly, his breath warm against her ear. "You're good," he murmured. "But not invincible."

Devorah turned her head just enough to meet his gaze, unfazed. "Neither are you."

And then, in a move so swift it stunned even him, she shifted her weight and twisted, using his own momentum to send him tumbling onto his back.

Gasps rang out.

Sean lay there for a moment, staring up at her, before a slow, rich laugh escaped his lips.

"You are full of surprises, aren't you?"

Devorah simply extended a hand. "You have no idea."

Sean took her hand but, instead of standing immediately, he pulled just enough for her to stumble slightly. A warning.

As she steadied herself, their eyes locked.

For the first time since she arrived in the Dominion, she had done more than earn his intrigue.

She had forced him to respect her.

And that was far more dangerous.