The Stepsister Scheme

she was carrying a tray. Keep the knees bent, and—
    Armand’s next attack almost tore the sword from her hand. The wood inlaid in the handle grew rough, digging into her palm to help her keep her grip. She barely managed to swing the blade up to block a follow-up that would have slashed her throat.
    There was too much to remember. She needed far more training before the movements would become automatic, the way Talia’s were. Danielle staggered back, her parries growing wilder as she tried to keep up with Armand’s attacks. Her own sword was sharper and lighter than any metal blade, but there were limits to what magic could do against a trained swordsman like Armand. Any moment now, he would get past her guard, and she would die upon her own husband’s sword.
    “Armand, please,” she begged.
    His blade beat hers aside, then sliced a bloody line across her thigh. “I won’t let you hurt her,” he said.
    Danielle fell. Curse that flea-bitten mop of a troll, anyway. Brahkop had known precisely how to provoke Armand. She rolled beneath the table, barely avoiding another strike. Armand had always been so protective. Enchanted or not, he was still the same Armand, determined to defend those he loved.
    He’s still Armand . Danielle dropped her sword. Fear made her tremble as she crawled out, her hands raised.
    “Danielle!” Talia spun and raised her knife, ready to throw.
    “Talia, don’t!” Danielle shouted. Talia didn’t understand. She was going to kill Armand to save her.
    Talia hesitated, and in that instant, Brahkop caught her. Ropes of hair snapped around her arm, and Danielle heard bone snap. Brahkop flung Talia across the room.
    Danielle wrenched her attention back to Armand. “I yield,” she said, kneeling. “You win.”
    Armand didn’t speak.
    “I know you,” whispered Danielle. She held her injured arm, trying to slow the blood. “I’m unarmed. Helpless. You won’t kill me.” She raised her chin. “I love you.”
    “I almost believe you when you say that.” Armand grabbed Danielle’s good arm and hauled her to her feet.
    “Forgive me,” whispered Danielle. She whimpered as she shifted her weight onto her wounded leg, then smashed her knee into Armand’s groin. His sword clattered to the ground as he doubled over. Danielle grabbed the back of his robe and pulled him forward. Armand’s forehead struck the floor, and he collapsed, moaning.
    Pain flared in her arm as she struggled to roll him over. Blood dripped down to her elbow, but she didn’t stop until he lay flat on his back. Sweat and tears stung her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said, straddling the prince. Before he could react, she leaned down and kissed him on the lips.
    She wasn’t sure what to expect. She imagined a rainbow of light bathing them both as the spell dissolved, and the sudden passion of Armand’s return embrace. Or a newfound clarity in his eyes as her kiss drove the clouds from his mind.
    Armand passed out.
    “I almost think I should feel insulted.” Danielle crawled away to retrieve her sword.
    On the other side of the room, Talia had retreated halfway up the stairs. She had tucked the knife through her belt and held the Duchess’ fork in her left hand. Her right arm hung limp at her side. Danielle could see bloody stripes where the troll’s attack had torn the skin.
    Brahkop pursued, his hair lashing over the railing to rip her apart.
    Talia twisted to one side, then slammed the fork down, pinning a lock of hair to the railing. She raced down the stairs.
    She was almost fast enough. She would have been if not for the dark smear of troll blood at the base of the steps. Her foot slipped out from beneath her.
    Brahkop’s hand shot out, but his hair was still pinned, yanking him back before he could reach. His hair reared back to strike.
    Quick as a cat, Talia drew her knife and threw. Danielle saw only a streak of silver, and then the ornately carved ivory hilt was protruding from Brahkop’s throat.
    The troll stumbled back, falling against the railing. He reached for the knife.
    “Bad idea,” said Talia.
    Brahkop ripped the knife free. Before, blood had only trickled from the wound. But without the blade to staunch the flow, blood poured forth, darkening Brahkop’s hair and dripping to the floor.
    He struggled to speak. The gurgling sound was almost unintelligible. Almost.
    Danielle averted her eyes as Brahkop whispered Stacia’s name. And then his head slumped, and he was gone.

    CHAPTER