A Court of War and Rage

Chapter Three

Cassian

I can't remember the last time I woke up so warm. No biting wind wakes me this morning. It is a gentle shaking of my shoulders and a warm female voice from somewhere far above me instead. "Cassian, get up. It's time for breakfast."

Mother?

My eyes open to see Leina, the mother of the new novice, standing over me. I climb off the floor, getting to my feet quickly. I eye the bed with distaste. I almost drowned in the softness of it. She chuckles at my face. "I felt the same way too once. You'll get used to it." Is she expecting me to stay?

I don't smile or respond. This has to be some kind of sick prank. Leina urges me to hurry before exiting the room. I look around the room before heading downstairs. The roaring fire warms the entire room. Rhysand shovels food into his mouth as I cautiously approach the table.

"Sit," the female commands. She places a loaded plate in front of me, and I seize it the moment she removes her hand from it. The food is gone in under a minute. Crumbs cover my tunic and face, but I don't care. Rhysand gapes at me.

"Cassian, no one is going to take your food from you. You're an Illyrian, not a savage boy. Next time, use your fork please."

"No one else cares how I eat," I retort.

Leina levels a stern look at me. "I care. You are in my home, eating at my table. It's time you learned some manners."

For the first time in years, I feel cowed. Her piercing blue eyes bore into me, waiting for my answer. I heave a sigh. "Yes, ma'am."

Rhysand says nothing as he quietly finishes his breakfast. His mother kisses him on the cheek before pushing him towards the door. I walk past her and race to the training ring. It must have rained in the night. Frigid mud splatters my boots.

I pick up my practice sword, eager to exchange blows with the pretty boy, to pay him back for waking me up in the dead of night. He enters the ring a few minutes after I do, and his hands shake slightly as he grabs a weapon. I approach him, putting all of my bravado forward.

"Hey, pretty boy, I want a rematch."

Rhysand turns those violet eyes towards me. Irritation washes through me at the sad confusion in his eyes. "I thought we were friends."

"I don't have any friends," I declare bravely. "I don't need them."

The confusion vanishes and is replaced with anger. Without warning, Rhysand lunges forward, sweeping low towards my legs. He moves so slowly. I'm able to block the next several blows, but he's better than yesterday.

After several minutes, I grow bored. I feint right, causing the little bastard to block the incoming blow before lowering the sword and knocking his legs out from under him. I dig my sword into his chest again. "Do you yield?"

A glowering stare is my only answer. Stubborn little shit. I remove the sword and offer him my arm. Rhys ignores it and scrambles to his feet . He drops into a fighting stance again. His violet eyes spark with determination. "Again. Fight me again."

"You're not good enough to win against me, kid," I drawl out, turning my back to him. A sharp blow to my head is my answer. The boy leaps back as I bring my blade swinging down at him. He dodges out of the way. He lifts his sword to swing, but I see his eyes staring at my exposed leg. I block the blow and shove him. Rhysand loses his balance and falls into a heap on the ground.

Once more, I push the tip of the blade into his chest. "Do you yield?"

"I want you to show me how to fight!" he spits out.

"No," I say flatly. "Get someone else to teach you."

I push him down into the mud before turning on my heel and stalking away. Stupid little idiot! I'm not going to teach him how to fight. He's too weak. Friends? Who is he kidding?

I challenge one of the older Illyrians, wagering his nightly rations on the outcome. I feel that intense gaze on me for the rest of the day as I win fight after fight. I collect my food from the losers and return to the house. It beats sleeping under a scrap of cloth, especially as the wind has picked up.

Leina greets Rhysand and I at the door. Both of us are splattered with dried mud. She rolls her eyes and ushers us into the tubs waiting by the kitchen stove. She eyes my armful of food, but says nothing. I steal up to my bedroom and hide the pile in various places around the room.

The little kid is already bathed and studying when I return to the kitchen to bathe. Clean clothes are hanging over a chair by the oven. "Those should fit you, Cassian," Rhysand's mother calls from the other room. I eye them with distaste, but they are warm and clean and... new. I've never had new clothes.

The material is softer and thicker than any of the scraps I've won off of the other boys. I quickly wash the mud off and don the new clothes. They are a perfect fit. I take the older clothes from where they lay on the floor and throw them into the fire. A plate of food is placed in front of me when I sit down at the table along with a fork and a knife.

A stern look from Leina prompts me to tentatively pick up the fork and use it to eat the food. My hands handle the utensil clumsily, but I manage. "It's important that you learn your lessons as well, Cassian."

The female holds out a book to me. I look from it to her. "Why? I'm a bastard-born. I'll never need to read or write letters. I'll be a common foot soldier forever... if they even let me do the Rite."

"It's important to train your mind as well as your body," Leina says. "Every warrior worth his merit knows that. It won't be hard. I think you should try."

"I don't even know how to read!" I snap. Rhysand shoots me a sad look, but he turns away when he sees the glare I give him. "It's too hard for me to learn anyways."

Leina's voice is soft. "No, it won't be. I will help you."

"I don't want your help! I don't want anyone's help!" I blink back the hot tears stinging my eyes. "No one cares enough to help me! I wish you would just leave me alone!"

Warm arms envelop me, drawing me close to her soft body. I grind my teeth to banish the tears. "Cassian, please, let me help you. I care about you, even if you don't want me to. The door is always open, if you feel you would be happier elsewhere. Stay or go, the choice is yours."

I give myself one moment to savor the warmth and comfort of her arms before I push myself off of the chair. "I'm going to bed. Good night." Hurt flashes across her face before she steps aside and bids me good night. Rhysand says nothing.

I climb the stairs to my cold and dark bedroom. Why can't it be my own mother embracing me, keeping me fed and warm? What did I do that would make her abandon me like this? The dark thoughts swirl around and around in my mind until I collapse onto the suffocating mattress with exhaustion