Sunny - Mona Lisa Craving

An expectant hush fell over our dining hall audience, a collective breath held as if they were waiting for something more.

“I challenge your claim,” Mona Sephina said, and the tense, waiting stillness dissolved with an almost audible sigh.

“What does that mean?” My question was aimed at Amber, sitting beside me. He and all my men had gone deeply still.

“In matters where the law is not entirely clear, a dispute can be settled by issuing a personal challenge.”

“You mean, like where might is right, winner takes all? She wants to fight me?”

Amber nodded.

“There is no need.” It was Dante who spoke, as I had somehow known he would. Of all the men here, even more than my own men, he would not want me fighting another Queen—not when I might be carrying his child.

He addressed Mona Sephina courteously. “Withdraw the challenge, milady, and my brother and I am yours. You need not fight to win us.”

Mona Sephina studied Dante and Quentin for a moment, savoring the pain in their parents’ eyes. Smiling triumphantly, she nodded. “Very well. I withdraw the challenge. Come to me now.”

Dante did as she bid. Quentin followed him.

As they walked to her, I told myself that they were doing nothing more than what they had come here to do—to find another Queen to serve. But the agony in Nolan’s and Hannah’s eyes, and the delight in Mona Sephina’s over their suffering, was just wrong .

Another Queen…any other Queen. Just not her.

“Wait,” I said, and Dante and Quentin halted, instinctively obeying me because in their hearts they still belonged to me. “I cannot agree to these terms.” Would not agree to them. I looked to Nolan, the only one of my men of whom I dared ask this because of his right as their father. “Can someone else accept the challenge on my behalf?”

“Yes,” Nolan answered. His eyes held understanding of what I was asking of him, and agreement to it. “If a Queen chooses a champion, he can fight in her stead. It would be my honor to serve as your champion, my Queen.”

“I choose you then, Nolan. Thank you.”

“Touching,” Mona Sephina said with a sneer. “But I have already withdrawn the challenge. The boys are mine,” she said and smiled slowly. “Of their own free will.”

“I dispute that,” I said. And calmly threw down the gauntlet. “I issue you a challenge in turn for them.”

She smiled coldly at me. “You do not know our laws well, do you? I am not obliged to accept your challenge. Only a fool would do so, and I am not a fool, despite what you may believe. Nolan was my best warrior. I have none who could defeat him.” She snapped her fingers at Dante and Quentin. “Come, as I command of you.”

They started forward again. And again I stopped them with one word. “Wait.”

There had to be something else, some other way. Power was only what you allowed someone to wield over you. I would not allow her to hold it over me or any of my people.

“We are at an impasse, Mona Sephina. I claim them, and so do you. I issue you challenge, and you cravenly decline it.” She stiffened at my words. “I would say that leaves both of us with an equal balance of nothing. Dante and Quentin have come here to seek service with another Queen at the fair. If we both yield our claim to them, I will uphold that original intent. At the service fair, I will bow out gracefully, and leave you with a clear shot at obtaining them then. Only then.”

“You try to grant me a right I have no need of,” Mona Sephina said coolly, “when they are mine already.”

“We are at a stalemate then.”

“No, we are not.” Mona Sephina turned to Dante. “I withdrew the challenge as you asked me to. Honor your word to me now, boy.”

Face stiff, he began moving toward her once more.

I stood, scraping back my chair. “Take one more step, Dante, and I will engage Mona Sephina in a fight over you right now, challenge or no challenge.”

Dante drew to a halt, his jaw set in a hard, grim line as he turned back to stare at me with a look in his eyes that clearly said: If I could get my hands on you right now, you would not forget it anytime soon. I thought you wanted me gone. Are you crazy?

Maybe I was. If so, it was entirely his fault for getting me pregnant. All those hormones.

My gaze swung back to Mona Sephina and I watched as her eyes narrowed into slits. She looked like a big cat that was considering pouncing and seizing her two young prizes, only a short reach away. Her men were tense and ready beside her. I felt my own men gathering themselves for the fight about to erupt.

“What if I serve as Mona Lisa’s champion?” Dante said into the sudden tense stalemate.

I saw Mona Sephina pause and consider it. He was young, only twenty years old, and the feel of his power was much less than that of her guards, all seasoned warriors. “I will accept those terms,” Mona Sephina said, nodding abruptly. “If she does.”

“Who will you choose as your champion?” I asked, not knowing why I did so. It would be the strongest of her men, of course, the one standing on her right. He was almost the same height as his Queen, but built like a massive bull. Power oozed from him like invisible heat.

“My champion will be Oswald.”

Sure enough, the warrior I had eyeballed stepped forward. I glanced from Dante to Oswald, and back again. Distinguished bloodline or not, reincarnated warrior who had lived countless lifetimes before notwithstanding, Dante still looked like a young pup next to the big warrior he would face.

“Mona Lisa,” Dante said softly, reading the resistance in my face. “It is my choice.”

His choice. His right to fight for his freedom and that of his brother’s. Although freedom was a poor word choice. More like the free will to choose which Queen they would bind themselves to in servitude. Yeah, that truth sounded so much better.

Was it worth it, this fight over something that may or may not matter much in the end?

I looked at Mona Sephina’s thin lips, her cruel eyes, and thought: Hell, yeah. It was worth it.

WE ENDED UPbickering some more before finally coming to terms we both agreed upon. Dante had proposed archery, shooting at targets. His opponent, Oswald, had snorted, and proceeded to tell us what he thought of such a bloodless sport.

He got to choose the terms of the fight, Oswald insisted, since I had issued the challenge.

We all had to take a moment to rehash the events—Mona Sephina’s issuing challenge, Dante’s counteroffer, her withdrawal of the challenge, then my issuing it. Yup. I guess that’s how things had pretty much ended—with my challenging her, Dante proposing himself as my champion, and my accepting him as such.

How his eyes had blazed when I had said those words— I accept Dante as my champion. How odd the twists and turns tricksty fate continued to bring into our lives.

Everyone poured out into the courtyard to witness the spectacle about to unfold.

Oswald had gotten his wish for a bloodier fight. His terms. Unarmed combat, four-legged form allowed.

I’d seen the look in Dante’s eyes as Oswald had announced the rules. Just a faint flicker in his eyes, no other betraying movement. But somehow I knew that the last part of it had bothered him. I didn’t know what Dante’s animal form was or if he even had one. Could he even shift? If he could, it still had to be a new ability only recently attained with puberty, which usually took place around seventeen years of age in Monère males.

I spent another five minutes haggling, to no avail. Oswald’s chosen terms stood. Shifting was allowed. The only concession I managed to wring from Mona Sephina was that the winner was the man who first pinned his opponent to the ground for ten seconds. I don’t know if that helped Dante or made it harder for him. He gave me no hint, no clue as to what would help him. In truth, he didn’t seem to really care what the terms were.