“I say we go through the Winter Forest and flank them. Cut off their heads before they can even get within fifty square miles of Stormcoast.”
Esme nodded at Emmett. “I think this will be the most logical solution.”
Carlisle looked over the map they’d spread out on the table. “We’ll have to be prepared for the Wandering Nightmares if we follow that plan.”
“We can do it,” Jasper said with vehemence.
“Just because we can, doesn't mean we should,” Alise argued.
Rosalie shuddered. “I don't want to face those things.”
“Considering they’re one of the few things which can kill us, I’m not looking forward to it, either,” Isabella added.
“Is there a spell you can do, Rosalie?” Esme asked. “A charm, a blessing, anything which can help us fight them off, or keep them away from us while we travel through their land?”
Rosalie closed her eyes while she considered. “I’d have to look through the scrolls.”
Jasper sighed. “Even without that sort of help, it’s probably our best option for keeping everyone in Stormcoast and Stagbreak safe. If they get too close, even if they can’t breach the walls of the stronghold, there are too many ways they can pillage and murder.”
“All of you are correct,” Esme said. “As much as we have to defend the sword, it’s our duty to keep the people safe.”
“Right. So we’ll leave in three days, as you said?” Carlisle looked at Esme for confirmation.
“Aye.”
“We need to train hard between now and then. By all accounts, they’re extremely tall, and they didn't earn the nickname The Forsaken for nothing. They’re brutal, and they won’t think twice about killing anyone in their way.”
Isabella knew Carlisle was right. The Forsaken had come barreling through the surrounding area several months ago, murdering townspeople in Blackthorn and taking a castle for their own. Once they’d killed the inhabitants, they’d dubbed it Grimhold. They made no great secret of the fact they were after the True-Sworn for their abilities, and the sword of eternal life which the royal family was duty-bound to protect at all cost.
“Nobody should take them lightly. They’re more deadly because they don’t care about anything.” Esme looked at each of her family members in turn. “Being immortal doesn’t make us invincible.”
“Their greed will do them in,” Isabella stated. “We’ll see to it.”
They parted ways, and Isabella was left to her own devices once more. It disturbed her to watch the others leave in pairs, going to their chambers to spend a quiet evening together. She was alone, but more than that, she was lonely.
Edward sat in her room waiting for her, and for one brief moment, she pretended it was as her mate and not her attendant.
“How was your evening, Edward?”
He looked up from the spot he occupied by the rear door and set the mending he was working on in his lap. “I’ve kept busy, princess.”
She moved farther into the room and sat on the chest at the end of her bed. “But what did you do? Were you content?”
“Content, princess?”
She saw the way his throat worked when he swallowed. It was unusual for her to ask such a personal question. Technically, she wasn't allowed to speak to him in such a way.
“Aye, Edward. Are you happy here?”
Something like distress flitted over his features. “Ah, I am. My brother keeps me company when I’m not working.”
But he was always working, so when did they spend time together? “Do you miss your parents?”
His brows pulled together over eyes the color of the moss which grew in the woods outside the keep. “They no longer live, princess.”
“Oh.” She exhaled heavily. “I didn’t realize. I apologize.”
“You didn’t know.”
No, and how could she? They weren’t permitted to be friends. She only knew Garrett was his brother because they came to Sandhorne Stronghold together many, many years ago. She’d watched Edward grow from a gangly boy of ten who used to drop things, into the strong, competent man sitting before her.
“Forgive my impertinence, but why the questions, princess?”
Why are you breaking the law? “Because I don't truly know you, and yet we see each other sixteen hours a day.”
His lashes cast shadows on his cheeks as he lowered his gaze. “It is not permitted, princess.”
Isabella sighed in aggravation. “Aye, I’m perfectly aware. Are you finished with that?”
He looked down at his lap when she nodded in that direction. “Almost, princess. A few more stitches and a knot, and your second favorite nightdress will be good as new.”
She smiled. “Please, finish before you go.”
She dared not tell him she needed to wear it to bed. She yearned to inhale his scent, to imagine his deft fingers touching her skin as they now touched the fabric of her clothing. She would wear what he’d had in his hands and she would dream of him.
“Very well, princess.”
She stood up and went to her wardrobe to pull out another gown. She needed to keep up pretenses, after all. She began unbraiding her hair, desperately wishing she could ask Edward to do it for her. She heard him moving behind her, felt him as a pulsing awareness. She turned to see him spreading the mended nightgown on her bed.
“If that’s all, princess?”
No, that’s not all. Come over here and kiss me, Edward. Make me forget about my duties for one night.
One hand went to her throat where her skin burned. “Yes, that will be all. Thank you, Edward.”
He bowed. “You’re most welcome, princess.”
She watched him disappear through the back door and rushed to lock it once he was gone. She stripped off the light gown she’d worn for dinner, followed by her thin shift, and slipped on the nightdress. The fabric was well worn and soft from use, and she brought the sleeve up to her nose to find his scent.
It was pure male; musky and spicy. Every muscle in her lower body clenched.
She blew out the candles and crawled under the blanket, wishing the same as always; she wanted Edward as her mate, and she wanted him now.
The following day was spent training long and hard. Isabella, Alise, Rosalie, and Esme worked on hitting taller targets. Rosalie used her mancatcher to grab the dummy, pull it toward her, and stab it in the eye with her dagger. It was clever in its own way, and she utilized it well. Isabella didn't begrudge her the unusual weapon, only the way she lorded over everyone how easy it was to reach their enemies' heads with it.
Alise had managed three out of five strikes before she took a break, and Isabella gave it a try. She rolled her shoulders and stood before the dummy with her sword tipped to the ground. She widened her stance, narrowed her focus, and swung in a high arc.
She heard clapping from behind them and turned to see Edward and Garrett standing there. She couldn't tell which one had clapped, but she shook them off and looked at her practice dummy. What was left of it, at least. She’d demolished it.
“Good job, Widow-Maker.”
“Thank you.”
“Raven-Sword, watch how she does it.”
Alise glared at their mother, but watched Isabella move down to the next dummy and swing her sword another time.
The head fell to the ground with a thump, and Alise nodded. “Aye, Dark-Sorrow. I see.”
“Good. Again.”
Isabella hit each of the five dummies. She felt eyes on her back and knew the attendants were watching. It wasn't all that unusual, considering they occasionally stood by to help if need be, but Garrett wasn’t assigned to anyone in the royal family—he was assigned to an archwarrior. Alise went again, their mother calling encouragement while Isabella rested beside Rosalie.
“Rage-Scream, when will you learn to use a longsword?” Isabella inquired.
If her intent was to antagonize her sister, it didn't work. She never took her eyes off Alise. “I don’t know, Widow-Maker, when will you learn to use a longbow?”
“I can use a longbow, I’m merely better at the sword.”
Rosalie hummed. “It’s not as if I’ve never held a sword, but if I can accomplish what is necessary with my mancatcher, why should I use anything else?”
“What if an opponent steals your mancatcher?”
“Then I will use my dagger.”
Isabella rolled her eyes. “And if they steal your dagger?”
“Then I’m well and truly fucked, because no one has ever managed to get that close to me before. Of course, Skull-Strike remains by my side in a battle, the same as Strong-Bow does for Raven-Sword. The likelihood that I’ll need to resort to another weapon altogether is slim.”
Just as Demon-Hide remained by Dark-Sorrow’s side in a battle because only mates could accompany the warrior women. Which meant Isabella was the one who should know how to wield multiple weapons for her own safety.
There were four archwarriors and another four mercenaries who accompanied them into battle. Each mercenary had a mate, while only one archwarrior had a mate who rode into battle. One was mated to a sentinel who never left the keep, and the other two were not mated.
Perhaps they should watch each other’s backs.
“Your turn, Rage-Scream.”
Rosalie had earned an apt warrior name. She screamed each time she made a move with her weapons, loud enough to make the younger attendants scuttle away from the practice field.
Isabella took her gaze from her oldest sister to look around at the others practicing nearby. Everyone made an effort to train, even some of the senior attendants. She saw Garrett, Edward, Mikael, Demetri, James, and Felix fighting across the field. Edward had excellent aim with his knives, and she’d enjoyed watching him and Garrett spar with maces more than once. The other men stuck with broadswords, but they didn't hold her attention.
Nobody held her attention quite the way Edward did. Sweat trickled in a dark line down the back of his shirt, his arms flexed as he sent a knife flying at a target. She knew if the time ever came, she would be honored to fight by his side. She also knew what warrior name she would bestow upon him, if ever she was given the chance.
She would dub him Bone-Crusher.
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