“Are you sure you were proficient, My King?” Portia asked, a teasing lilt to her voice and I allowed a light laugh to fall from my lips as my hands tightened on the arms of my chair. “I had come down with the Fae flu that very day,” I worked to play it off as the crowd settled down. “I assure you I destroyed him on that pitch not a week later when I had recovered, but Hail swept my second try-out under the rug, not wanting to be put to shame by my talent.” “I see,” Portia said lightly.
