A Court of Stars and Memories

80. A Plot in Motion

Mitsi twisted beneath Orion's blow with a startled yelp. She managed to right herself a heartbeat later and parried his next strike, wielding her new dagger effortlessly. Orion flashed her an approving grin, which she returned with a hint of smug pride.

"Have you named it yet?" He asked.

Mitsi whirled past his outstretched arm and spun behind him, landing a kick to his knee. Orion buckled but didn't stay down for long. Mitsi flung an arm across her face as he swept sand towards her eyes with a wing. "That was a dick move!" Eira shouted from across the ring.

"Whatever it takes to win, Princess," he retorted.

Mitsi chuckled before their blades locked once more. "Not yet," she answered. "I haven't thought of the perfect name." A blade as perfect as this deserved a name just as fitting. She loved it more with each passing day and couldn't thank Azriel enough for the gift.

She spared at glance at her dagger while it remained shrieking against Orion's. Both of their daggers were made of Illyrian steel, although Orion's blade held the typical dark hue of the metal while Mitsi's had been dusted silver.

The crossguard and pommel of her dagger were intricately engraved in a pattern of snowflakes with tiny ice blue gems studding their centers. The hilt was cushioned by a plain black leather wrap. Beautiful, but with an air of danger. Just like her, Lysander had said when he saw her holding the blade after dressing in her Illyrian leathers that morning.

Orion broke away from her, snapping her focus back to their sparring match. Mitsi doubled backwards as he lashed towards her face. Orion stumbled forward, carried by his own momentum.

She caught him by the arm as he staggered past and drove her knee beneath his ribs. Orion wheezed and sagged in her grasp. Mitsi grinned, pointing the tip of her dagger to his throat.

"Well done," he coughed, lowering himself to his knees. "Fuck, that hurt." He pressed a hand to his midriff and took a few deep breaths. "Any harder and you might've broken a rib or two."

"She should've," Mina said. She and Eira broke off their own match and joined them. "She should fight like every match is a real battle, not just practice."

"That's dangerous advice," Eira warned.

"It's the most effective way to learn."

"Dad was right," Orion grunted, rising once more. "You should've been born an Illyrian." Eira slipped an arm around his waist and he leaned into her gratefully.

"Devlon said that?" Mitsi asked, her brows raised in amused surprise. Orion nodded.

"The Mother knew I'd be too powerful as anything other than what I am," Mina replied. "That's why she made me this way. I resent her for it."

"You're powerful just as you are, Sweetheart," Corbin called from beyond the training ring.

Mina perked up as he approached and swung himself over the fence. "What have I said about calling me that?"

A wicked smirk curled Corbin's lips. "That I can do it more often, not just in bed." Mina's face flushed crimson.

Orion and Eira wisely muffled their snickers behind their hands. Mitsi just smiled while Corbin hooked an arm around Mina's waist and pulled her close enough to steal a kiss. As soon as he broke away, Mina caught a lock of his chestnut-blonde hair and gave it a sharp yank. Corbin grimaced but offered no reproof.

"A letter came from Micah just before I left the River Estate," Corbin mentioned instead, his gaze flickering from Mina to Mitsi. "It was delivered straight to Rhys."