Read Blood's Pride (Shattered Kingdoms) for Free Online
Authors: Evie Manieri
shoulders. he demanded, grabbing her pale wrist and pulling her towards him as she attempted to conceal her hands beneath the wide sleeves of her gown.
she demanded imperiously, but he tightened his grip around her wrist and bent closer to examine the flesh. A few blue blotches marked her palm, but nothing worse. The veins underneath her semi-transparent skin shone with a healthy blue glow. There was no sign of the black poison that resulted from a serious burn. she told him.
he reminded her sternly, but he relaxed his grip and she pulled her hand away.
me. I told you I’d tell Father if I caught you again.>
she asked bitingly. She knew how badly it rankled that Father hadn’t spoken to any of them except Frea in months.
he snapped back at her. She was cocooned in the folds of a shimmering gossamer gown, the kind worn in Norland over several layers of more concealing clothing.
she complained, but he saw her tug the collar a little closer around her throat.
he advised her, simmering with impatience. He turned and started back towards his room.
When he turned back around, her silver-grey eyes were sparkling in outrage.
he said, even though he knew this response was sure to prolong the conversation.
He’d known this moment had been coming, ever since Isa, ten years old at the time, had taken the opulently jewelled sword from their mother Eleana’s tomb and stubbornly dragged it back to her room. As the eldest daughter Frea had first claim to the sword, but she wanted nothing to do with it; for her own Naming Day she had commissioned Blood’s Pride from the swordmakers at Ravinsur according to her own precise specifications. But there was still Norlander tradition: if Isa wanted to carry her mother’s sword, she had to fight her older sister for the right to do so on her Naming Day. That was her seventeenth birthday. Tomorrow.
Isa’s wordless fury struck him like a slap. The Book of the Hall
. How can you just ignore tradition—?>
he insisted wearily, sick to death of the whole subject.
she pressed, flexing her long white fingers and then lacing them together. He could feel the undercurrent of her anxiety like a sinking in the pit of his stomach.
Eofar shut his eyes. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have
me. I told you I’d tell Father if I caught you again.>
He’d known this moment had been coming, ever since Isa, ten years old at the time, had taken the opulently jewelled sword from their mother Eleana’s tomb and stubbornly dragged it back to her room. As the eldest daughter Frea had first claim to the sword, but she wanted nothing to do with it; for her own Naming Day she had commissioned Blood’s Pride from the swordmakers at Ravinsur according to her own precise specifications. But there was still Norlander tradition: if Isa wanted to carry her mother’s sword, she had to fight her older sister for the right to do so on her Naming Day. That was her seventeenth birthday. Tomorrow.
Isa’s wordless fury struck him like a slap. The Book of the Hall
. How can you just ignore tradition—?>
Eofar shut his eyes. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have
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