The other man runs heedlessly at Halvden, yelling at the top of his lungs, his sword raised. Halvden blocks his blow easily, stepping to one side as he passes. He sends a grin in our direction. Malvina gives him a confident glare and a slight nod. She doesn’t notice the way that my eyes narrow or my fists clench as she sips her glass of wine nonchalantly. A tight smile formed on her thin lips. Her every action strains my control on my temper. And as a result — my fire.
“Easy Saoirse. Lycur is watching you.” Geraint warns. I glance over at my husband where he stands, hands on hips. His eyes flick from me to Halvden and back again, trying to decide where to give his attention. With infinite control, I let my hands uncurl and place them loosely on top of my stomach, where he can see them, re
