The white towers of Aelin Galathynius's castle gleamed in the light bounding over the horizon. Aedion watched as the sun slowly made its ascent, squinting against the bright light. It had been three weeks since they had made it to Terrasen, and he still couldn't get enough of the sunrise in Orynth. He'd seen it a thousand times before, but with the shadow of the King of Adarlan looming over him. Watching. Now, he was free of the wretch, and having Aelin back made him happier than he could remember being in a long, long time.

Lysandra had left for the former Allsbrook territory two days before, Evangeline travelling with her. Though he was loath to admit it, because he anticipated Aelin and Rowan's teasing, Aedion missed the shapeshifter. Not just her company, but her spontaneity, too. There was nothing like a huge ghost leopard bounding through the castle hallways to liven up the atmosphere. Or a chestnut horse giving Evangeline rides through the courtyard. Aelin missed Lysandra bitterly, too. The heir of Mala Light-Bringer, it seemed, was useless when it came to hiding her emotions. Even though Lysandra had promised to send word if anything of note happened, and Rowan had agreed to carry messages, if absolutely necessary, Aelin still worried. In a council meeting about a week before, during with they pored over maps and bemoaned the force of Ironteeth witches that were heading their way, the fire in the hearth had been so hot and so large that they had to open all the windows and even the door. Aelin tried to hide her anxiety, but it was pretty obvious when she was the only one who wasn't nearly collapsing from the suffocating heat. Rowan had sent the temperature in the room plummeting when it simply got too much, only to have it rocket back up again as the fire flared and several of the tapestries adorning the walls disintegrated into smoking ashes. The council meeting had, wisely, been called off.

A bird's cry echoed through the crisp morning air, and Aedion looked up. Sure enough, a familiar-looking white-tailed hawk was circling above him. Aedion grinned, and Rowan slowly glided down to land on Aedion's balcony. There was a flash of light and the Fae warrior, tattoo, hidden weapons and all, stood beside him.

"Won't Aelin go ballistic if she wakes up and finds you missing?" Aedion asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rowan smirked, "She's already up. Spitting fire everywhere."

There was a clearing in the huge game park that Rowan and Aelin often used for practise, as it offered more space than the barracks or gardens. Also, if something went very, very wrong, the castle was less likely to collapse. But they always practised for Aelin's benefit, as she had had one total burnout since their arrival.

"Are you sure...?" Aedion trailed off, not wanting to anger the warrior so early in the morning.

But Rowan just waved him off, "She never makes mistakes when she's in a bad mood." He looked Aedion over with a critical but not unkind eye, and said, "Are you ready for training yet?"

Aedion bit down a groan. He'd badgered and pestered and outright begged Rowan to train him as Fae trained, to learn how to move and pounce like an immortal. Eventually, Rowan had agreed. And gods, did he not tolerate mistakes. After less than a month, Aedion practically fell into bed every evening and visited the healer's wing for sore joints and muscles more times than he could count. He'd sparred with Aelin a few times, too, no magic allowed, while Rowan watched and offered constructive criticism. Lots of it. Aedion had begun to realise how Aelin mastered her magic so quickly under Rowan's teachings.

Sparring against his cousin was... a new experience. They'd fought several times with Aelin in her human form, and he had won. Just. But then, stupidly, he had asked for her to shift. Aelin had obliged, and thoroughly kicked his ass. When he had gotten up, she kicked his ass again. And again. Until, stabbing his pride, Aedion had to ask her to back off.

"Tired, Aedion?" She had teased, cracking her knuckles and grinning at him with those elongated canines.

"Blame Rowan." He had replied.

So then Rowan had kicked his ass. But afterward, he had said, "You fight well, considering you haven't been trained by someone of your kind since you were thirteen." Which Aedion supposed was a compliment.

But, apparently, lack of training didn't matter to Rowan, because he still kicked Aedion's ass. Hard.

It seemed that the Fae prince was thinking along the same lines, because he let out a low chuckle, "Aelin keeps reminding me I'm not allowed to kill you."

Aedion snorted, "You seem to forget that every session."

"Ah, but you should notice that I only really lay into you when she's not around."

"You should try it when Aelin's watching. She would beat you to a pulp."

"We serve such a refined, gentle queen."

"Indeed, we do." A smile was tugging at the corner of Aedion's mouth, "You said Aelin was practising."

"Yes."

"Any idea for how long?"

Rowan caught his train of thought, and slowly grinned, "She'll be out there until she gets hungry."

"Which gives us quite a bit of time, I'd wager."

The Fae prince chuckled, "Meet me in the East garden in five minutes."

There was a flash of light, and a hawk soaring over the courtyard. But Aedion didn't see it. He was already bursting into his dressing room.

No magic. No weapons. No other rules.

Rowan and Aedion fought in the East garden, the smallest one, that was also the furthest away from the game park. Just in case Aelin heard them swearing at each other. Rowan had said that they needed to finish with enough time for him to heal all their injuries, so Aelin wouldn't suspect anything.

Forget Aelin, Aedion thought as he spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground. He was going to need Rowan's healing if he wanted to sit down in the next week.

They lunged at each other again and again, and though Rowan was faster and stronger, Aedion was beginning to figure him out. To learn his tells, what tricks he liked to pull and the speed with which he dealt his blows. But it wasn't quite enough to evade the swift kick that Rowan dealt to his knees, sending him tumbling into the gravel. He swore as Rowan dug his knees into his thighs, gripping both of Aedion's hands with one of his, and pressing the other against Aedion's throat.

"Give up yet?" Rowan panted, the tattoo on his face shifting as he grinned.

"You wish." Aedion lurched, but Rowan was an immovable force against him. He gave a roar of frustration as the prince pushed him down.

"Think, Aedion." He said, still grinning, those canines gleaming, "Use whatever weapons you've got."

"Shut up." He snarled, among other, less polite phrases. Aedion twisted his hands, digging his fingernails into Rowan's wrists. They stared at each other in silence for at least a minute, even after Rowan's blood started running down Aedion's fingers. But Rowan still wouldn't even flinch. He brought his face slightly closer to Aedion's, and said:

"You'll have to try harder-"

Before Aedion slammed his forehead into Rowan's nose.

Blood spurted. Aedion knew that it would hardly dent the warrior, but it would distract him for just one second. And one second was enough, for he threw his body upwards and to the side, j-u-s-t managing to tip Rowan's balance. They rolled across the garden path, kicking and punching and scratching and, in both of their cases, outright biting. Each of them only had a split second to use their upper hand, before they carried on tumbling over and over. It crossed Aedion's mind that this probably wasn't the best way to prepare for a battlefield.

It had apparently crossed Aelin's mind, too, because a ring of fire suddenly burst up around them and a figure stepped through the flames. Aedion raised his eyes.

He was staring into the very upside-down, very narrowed, very angry eyes of his beloved cousin.