Hastily, he threw his cape over his head and it fell to the floor in a crumpled red heap. His sword rang as he pulled it free from its scabbard.
Without even a second thought, he rushed at me and I quickly sheathed the dagger.
I spun around hard and armed myself with my sword, a finely crafted weapon that I had taken care of since she had been given to me long ago by the most renowned blacksmith in Valgertha. I'd named her Deathbringer.
She'd served me over the years, and I had no doubt she would for many more. The clang of my sword meeting his echoed so loudly in the throne room that the stone walls reverberated with it.
I met his blows, again and again, blocking and parrying each one with raw adrenaline. I didn't think about my movements, instead, I just followed my instincts.
