She cursed him, his fingers curled around her head. This time when he lifted her, she felt certain he was simply going to rip it from her body. He lifted her off the ground, her neck on fire.
Stabbing both knives up into the side of his hand, she knew she would miss the tendons, but it was worth the effort.
Unable to breathe with his palm crushing her face, she ripped the knives out and stabbed again and again. His ring finger released, tendon cut, and she was able to gasp in a breath and scream for him to stop.
"Brother!" a voice bellowed from the hall. Everything tilted horribly sideways as the titan was thrown off balance. He released her, and she crashed to the ground. She spun to see that the titan was missing a good chunk of the back of his knee. The lich had hacked it off with a long black sword she had never seen before.
She made for the lich, only to find the titan's hand coming for her again.
She crouched and sprung up into the air and somersaulted over his grasping hand, landing on an uneven piece of plaster on her barely healed leg. She stumbled into the lich who caught her. In the next breath, the world went black.
***
Air crushed from her lungs, the grip around her shoulders and back was so tight she thought the titan had them both in his grip. But a second later, the world lightened. The air was bitterly cold. The lich released her.
She staggered back from him and fell onto her backside in the snow.
Gasping for air, her eyes were wild as she looked around her, unable to place where she was. Behind her, a good few hours march, was the city of Ayathian.
"How?" she gasped. Her lungs were reluctant to expand.
Without a response, he was on her and before she could react, he had punched her in the chest.
Skidding back in the snow, she remained on her back but was suddenly able to suck in a full breath of sweet air. Wheezing slightly, she stared up at the cold blue sky, unwilling to get up. The snow was soft, the sky was pretty, and she was hurting. Maybe she would just stay there for a few minutes… hours… maybe she would think about getting up tomorrow.
Her view of the sky was broken after a moment by the livid face of the lich. Why was he so angry at her? She had only been defending herself!
"Can you breathe?" he asked, restrained fury tinging his tone.
She nodded her response, sucking in air through her teeth while her body attempted to heal whatever damage his punch had caused, along with the damage from the fight.
"The living should not be taken in such a way; their lungs do not usually expand again. That is why I punched you. I ruptured your lungs and forced them to heal."
She gave another nod, knowing full well she would have told him to stick his explanation up his arse had she been able to. But her lungs were inflating again, and she was able to breathe normally.
Accepting his arm, she pulled herself up onto her feet and without asking, used his shoulder as a means of support as she leant forward, wheezing.
"What… was… that...?" She managed to speak between noisy exhales.
"I think he's a bit upset you refused his invitations to dinner," the man said, sarcasm oozing from his tone.
"What?" she asked again, lifting her head enough to see his face. His jaw was set, his eyes on the city in the distance.
"I was blocking his invitations, then his demands," he said with only a tiny hint of guilt. "I assumed he would be told it was me and not you."
Rolling her eyes, she pulled herself straight and stepped away from him, her hands prodding experimentally at her chest.
"You are… by far the most… dysfunctional family I have ever heard of…" she said finally.
The Lich gave a snort and picked a piece of plaster out of her hair.
"So, he threw a tantrum? Because of you...?" she said finally, at last able to breathe normally.
"Basically," the lich said after a pause. He began to laugh and, unable to help it, she began to laugh as well. The entire situation had been impossibly ridiculous. The man was a child who threw a tantrum when he did not get what he wanted.
"We will head back, by the time we return he will have calmed down."
"Or ripped apart half the castle. Why did you bring us out here?" She lingered only long enough to use the snow to clean off her hands, leaving it crimson.
"I will admit that the place was not a priority at the time. I only thought to get you out before he ripped your head off your shoulders."
"I'll admit, I had thought he was going to do that also," she said, hurrying to catch up with the lich as he started towards the city.
***
By the time they reached the city, the sun had sunk low on the horizon and the pair were glad to be out of the snow. Some of it had been deep enough to reach their middles, but finally they made it back. The city was subdued, seeming oppressed by the low clouds and heavy snowfall.
She noticed the lich slowed down as they moved, and she slowed her pace as well, wondering at it. Perhaps the cold affected him after extended periods? She did not consider it prudent to point out his weakness, but she catalogued it for future use.
Once they reached the castle, the lich burst in through the doors and headed for the throne room. It was deserted, aside from the king, who had clearly been waiting for them.
"You took longer than expected," the giant man said slowly, his control over his physical appearance back in check, and his voice no longer a booming that made her ears vibrate.
"I see you have gotten your temper back under control," Epharis retorted, crossing the room with Etani following along a few steps behind him.
Alaric's eyes fell on her and his jaw clenched.
"I was the one rejecting your attempts to meet with the princess. She is still under my protection," Epharis cut in, stepping to partially block her from his angry glare.
"Did you know of her rank?" the King asked, his fury turning on Epharis.
"Not until recently."
"How did you figure it out? Why would she hide this?" They were speaking about her as though she was not even there, and it irked her.
"I have my ways, brother. She did not know herself until I told her," Epharis lied smoothly, leaving out how Izziah had been the one to find out the information.
She had no idea why he would lie about it, but she decided it was best to let the lie stand.
"I see. I have a right to meet with all royalty who set foot in my castle. You will cease this attempt to block her." Seemingly calm now, she felt more confident to step out from behind Epharis and look at the king.
She was surprised to see just how angry he looked, his jaw set. She knew he was protective of her, but for him to go so far out of his way to keep her from his brother's attention had her more than a little curious.
"If that is what you wish, brother," Epharis said with a deep bow, as though all the king ever had to do was ask.
Turning, he swept from the room and left her alone with the king.
Feeling suddenly abandoned, she looked to the king, who seemed just as surprised.
Glancing around the room, she realized then why he had agreed to this, but not a dinner. They were not alone in the hall. Guards were stationed around the room. In a dinner, she would be entirely alone with him.
Crossing the room, she decided to play nice and curtsied before the king, though it was somewhat ruined by the fact that she wore pants rather than a dress. To compensate, she lifted her right hand to cover her heart in a fist, bowing her head.
"Your Majesty," she said calmly, schooling her face to one of complete calm. She might be running mostly on a lack of emotions now, but there was still a strong sense of self-preservation, forcing her to be ever wary of the man before her.
"Your Highness," the man retorted, almost chewing on the words as they came out. The air was thick with anger and distrust, but she remained calm.
"I find it interesting that you did not know of your heritage," he said finally, weighing his options of what to do with her.
"As I am sure you can imagine, it was a shock." Perhaps she was being a little flippant, but the entire situation was ridiculous.
"Why did your father not tell you, or your mother?" he asked.
"My father was killed when I was but five, and my mother two years later. They did not have time enough to tell me." Though she could vaguely recall her father calling her his little princess. She had not thought anything of it except that her often gone father was giving her his attention and she was revelling in it like the attention seeking little monster she had been at the time.
"Is that right...?" Doubt coloured his words, but she merely shrugged her response, having nothing more to offer him. She had spoken the truth. "As a member of a royal family, I am obligated to offer you my protection. As my guest, you are obligated to adhere to the laws of my kingdoms. You will keep the rooms Prince Epharis has set out for you. However, the protections will be removed. You will join me whenever it is asked of you."
Eyebrows lifting, she could not help but smile at the man, darkly amused.
"I am the property of Prince Epharis. His law supersedes the laws of your kingdom. I obey him." Not entirely true, she obeyed when it suited her, but he did not need to know that.
Fingers clenching on the arms of his throne, he thought carefully. "We have two options here, princess. Either you can obey me, or I will ensure that your people know exactly which room in which to find you," he said simply.
The threat hung between them, thickening the air until it was hard to breathe.
"You will not stop until you have what you want. You are a child, a little boy who wants the toys of all the boys around him, who throws a tantrum when he cannot have them, and will break them to ensure they cannot be played with by anyone else." Her voice was low and calm even though she was angry at him for trying to threaten her.
Standing, he stepped down from the dais and approached her; the approach appeared non-threatening, but she knew better. She was ready for him this time.
"My brother will not be able to protect you forever, little Winter Princess. When that day comes, I will be there to take control." His voice was a low growl, making sure the guards were unable to hear from their posts.
"I will die before I allow you to control me," she said just as low, her chin lifted in defiance.
"That remains to be seen. Death will not save you."
His hand lifted, and he grasped her jaw gently, directing her face first left and then right.
"I vaguely recall you once mentioning my not having a wife, princess. Perhaps we can have that rectified. Before you were but a commoner, but now?" He leered at her, eyes raking down her form in a manner that made her flesh crawl.
"I will not be the one to die if you make that attempt." Horrified, she began shuffling through her knowledge of laws surrounding such things. Was it possible for him to do that? To force her into marriage? It was not unprecedented, especially when a kingdom had been conquered. She had no kingdom to conquer, that meant she was vulnerable.
The amusement in his eyes confirmed her suspicion, and she slapped his hand away as hot fingers trailed down the delicate lines of her throat.
"I am not yours to marry off to any man, king. If you have not forgotten, I am not yours to command." She could not hide that hint of panic, the sudden, terrible fear that yes, he could. Just because she was not directly under his control did not mean he could not claim her as a political prisoner.
Swallowing hard, she stepped back from him, unable to tear her eyes away from that sadistic grin on his face. She was in trouble. She needed help.
"I'm afraid you are, princess. You were in my command from the moment you stepped foot on my lands."
A flash of movement dropped down on her right. She lunged away from it, missing the swing of a knife by a mere inch.
Spinning, she lifted her arms in defence as her attacker came at her again. The grey man, the king's royal assassin, had come for her. The knife sliced along her forearms, pain ripping through her body as white wisps of smoke rose up from the cuts. She bit down a scream of pain as the iron seared her flesh.
Throwing herself backwards, she parried another slash from the knife, using her bleeding arms to shove his thrust upwards and to the right, deflecting the blow.
"No lich here to protect you this time," the grey man purred, delighted at the chance to take her on again after what she had done to him in the hall.
She did not make a reply, but rather aimed a side kick to his ribs as he rebounded from a second failed attempt to stab her in the chest. She did not think he was out to kill her, only severely wound her.
Desperately, she tried to figure out what to do in that situation. Turning, she bolted across the room away from both king and assassin, only to be barred by one of the guards. They were in on it too.
Aiming a kick right between his legs where she knew he would be less protected, she snatched his spear from his hands as he fell, spinning and lifting the spear in time to use it in another block.
He shoved her back into the wall. Her head thumped against the stone and her vision spun horribly. She was prepared, even with the nauseating movements of the room. Spinning the spear, she flicked the point up as the assassin came at her, scoring him across the chest, but allowing him to capture the spear in his free hand. Holding it out and away, he slammed into her and the blade of the knife sunk into her shoulder.
Screaming in pain, she adopted the same method on the assassin that she had used on the guard, bringing her knee up between his legs.
His now empty hand dropped to deflect most of the force, but he still staggered back from her, clutching himself. Remaining in the middle of the room, King Alaric merely watched the fight, amused.
Ripping the blade from her shoulder, she went after the assassin, taking advantage of his moment of weakness.
Using her off hand, she threw the knife at him, point first. The knife missed him by an inch as he twisted to avoid it, but she was on top of him before he could balance again. Using her weight, she crashed into him and he fell with her on top of him. Straddling him, she forced the shaft of the spear against his neck to press down, crushing his windpipe.
He was not idle, his fingers curling in her loose hair and yanking her head to the side. Falling off him with a gasp of pain, she found it was now him on top of her.
Aiming a punch for his throat, her knuckles connected, and he fell. Twisting her hips, she managed to knock him off her and she stood, delivering a solid kick into his ribs. She was certainly not above kicking a man while he was down.
The guards were not above cheating either, for she had not heard the guard sneaking up behind her. The spear whipped around, catching her just below her navel. The guard gripped the other end, leaning back and heaving. Effectively holding her in place, she wriggled and squirmed in his hold, her nails screaming against the metal of his armoured stomach.
Pinned to his chest, she watched the assassin stand, his arm covering his bruised ribs as he came for her again.
Prepared, she lifted her leg and planted her foot in the middle of the assassin's chest, both thrusting him back and forcing the guard off balance, tipping him over backwards.
Falling with him, she used the momentum to somersault backwards off the guard and back onto her feet, panting softly and backing away from the men.
Lost in her surroundings for an instant, she placed the king a few yards to her left, the guard and assassin directly in front of her. Six more guards were stationed around the room, but they looked more content to simply watch the show.
"Slippery little snake, aren't you...?" Ghost said, his hood askew and posture hunched.
Not deigning to give him a response, she tried to place where the knife or spear had landed, but could see neither out of her peripheral vision. Daring to flick a glance to her right, she spotted the spear and lunged for it, sweeping it off the ground and spinning in time to see the guard barrelling down on her.
Having only a split second, she spun the spear and drove the point into a join in the marble, using it to pole vault over the man and land crouched on his other side, searching for the assassin.
He was nowhere to be seen. Cursing, she turned. The guard backed off her, panting hard in his heavy armour.
Damn, where had that monster of an elf gotten off to?
She did not hear him coming up behind her, and felt only the faintest brush of fingers against the middle her back. Everything went black.