Yona yanked both short blades free from their sheaths, metal singing as they cleared the scabbards. For a moment, she thought of igniting them with foxfire, but the thought barely formed as she didn't have the time. She never expected to be on the receiving end of the tenth prince's dagger.
His movements were all wrong. Wild, something she'd once observed and dismissed as recklessness. But now, up close, that unpredictability was terrifying.
His body still slumped forward, head hanging, movements jerky. The only thing that seemed alive in him was the white-knuckled grip around his dagger, and the relentless will behind each strike.
Steel flashed.
Yona stepped back, blades raised, her twin short blades crossing to catch the first slash. The impact sent a shiver through her arms. Another swing followed, low, then high, then twisting sideways.
