Gallen and Nervii clasped each other’s arms, before dropping their armor and swords on the red soil. 

In Thornland, Franco used to take us to tournaments. Knights clad in iron slammed into each other until one of them was thrown to the ground. I could never bear to see the spark of lust in people’s eyes, eager to witness the carnage. 

“For Voke,” Gallen asserted. 

“For Voke,” Nervii replied. 

They backed a couple of feet from each other, their fists in front of their faces. A third demon, a woman with short, unruly hair, stepped forward and raised her hand up in the air. The demons fell quiet. She was sporting the same boar tattoo on her knuckles as Nervii. 

Examining the demons standing near me in the circle, in the silence of the warm afternoon, I noticed that they didn’t actually look hungry for violence as I had thought. This was a ritual, I suddenly understood. Something that had to be done in order to solve Nervii and Gallen’s conflict. 

The demon woman lowered her hand, signalling for the fight to begin, then stepped back next to me. I didn’t dare move, trying to draw as little attention to myself as possible. 

Gallen and Nervii sized each other up, waiting to see who would be the first one to throw a punch. Gallen was shorter than Nervii, stockier. He lurched at the older demon and landed a blow under the protection of his fists, right in his gut. 

Nervii’s chiselled chest absorbed the shock as if it were a breeze. The fight had begun. Gallen’s fighting style matched his stature and youth: he was pounding fiercely, and retreating quickly, tiring his older opponent. 

Nervii, on the other hand, fought viciously. He took every opportunity to kick dirt into Gallen’s eyes, continuing to attack even as Gallen was on the ground. It didn’t seem fair, but the demon woman, who I had concluded was in charge of judging the combat, didn’t say a word. 

A couple of minutes into the fight, Nervii, taking Gallen by surprise, punched him in the throat. Gallen stumbled back, gasping for air. I muffled a shriek. As Nervii was about to sweep Gallen’s legs with a kick, I cried out, horrified. 

“Watch his feet!” I yelled. “He never protects his right side!”

Nervii glanced at me, dumbstruck. For a brief second, he lost his focus. Gallen seized the opportunity and slammed into Nervii’s right side, forcing him to retreat, until Nervii fell to his knees, his face flush, out of breath. 

“I see you’re not just any half-demon, half-human,” the judge whispered to me. “You speak our tongue.”

I smiled naively, uninclined to reveal anymore than I already had. When I looked up again, Nervii slammed his open palm on the ground, surrendering. He glared at me, eyes simmering with rage. 

But I didn’t care. We were free to go. I cheered along with the rest of the Brigantes riders, startling the horses. Now that the fight was over, the demons were patting Gallen on the back as if he was one of their own. 

“You better get used to this,” the demon judge advised. “That’s what you’ll have to do if you ever want a husband in Voke.” 

I stared at her, eyes wide. “Fight?”

She nodded, then burst out into a gravelly laugh. “We all do it. Even King Luther will have to fight his bride one day.”

I was surprisingly relieved to learn that Luther didn’t have anyone waiting for him back home. 

“Ready to ride to Ligones?” Gallen asked. 

I smiled at him, then jumped on the mare’s back, comforted by her warmth. 

“Thanks,” Gallen said once we were out of earshot.

“Anytime,” I replied, before glancing back at the group of demons we were leaving behind. 

Nervii was staring at us, eyes black despite the bright afternoon sunlight. I brushed aside the sourness rising from my stomach. I would probably never see him again anyway. 

We pressed on for the better part of the afternoon, at an even pace. The hot wind carried specks of sand that stuck to my skin and pricked my eyes. We hadn’t eaten since the night before, but I didn’t dare ask Gallen for any food, reluctant to appear weak. 

Instead, I marvelled at Voke’s landscape, both foreign and familiar. Stone pine trees dotted the plains, forming a canopy of green, and filling the air with a sharp, peppery smell. We reached a well-kept trail in the forest. On either side of it, two wrought-iron gates marked an entrance. 

Gallen paused. “Welcome to Ligones.”

I beamed. We had reached our destination. We progressed alongside the trail, but I was surprised. 

“Where are the houses?” I asked Gallen. 

Instead of answering, he broke into a brisk trot. Around a bend, I discovered Ligones. Like mushrooms, hundreds of colorful bell tents popped up from every nook of the expanse up ahead, forming a giant city under the trees. 

Gallen handed me a long piece of fabric. “Wear this like a turban, and let me do the talking.”

We reached a series of paddocks covered with a taut leather tarp. 

“The court’s stables. Leave your mare here, she will be looked after.” Gallen tied his horse to a pole. 

I followed suit, struggling with the reins and rope and leather straps. A hand reached for mine. My entire body came alive. I gasped. 

“Let me help you,” an unknown voice offered. I felt a pang of disappointment. For some reason, I had expected to see Luther.

Standing behind me was a tall demon, dressed head to toe in a black tunic and a gold-embroidered coat. He was examining me with eyes as dark as a storm. 

“She’s fine, Reghes,” Gallen scolded him. “Good night.” 

Gallen gave me a pointed look, and I followed him out. But I couldn’t shake off the feeling. Whomever the demon was, my body had reacted to his presence in a way I hadn’t experienced before. My skin tingled from what felt like a thousand needles. 

We padded across Ligones for a few minutes, until we reached a large coral tent. Its foundations were made of stone, but the canopy was tanned leather. Gallen opened the door to a warmly lit open space. His wife put down a candle to greet us. 

“Tatiana, meet Gaia, my partner.” 

“Nice to meet you, Tatiana.” She took my hand into hers. “Luther warned me that my husband wouldn’t return from Thornland alone.”

Until now, everyone I had crossed paths with had looked me up and down as if I was some sort of a strange animal. But Gaia simply smiled. She was silver-haired and round-faced, her hands rough and her feet bare. 

“Thank you for having me,” I answered. 

“For now, we’ll say that Tatiana is a distant cousin of yours,” Gallen informed Gaia. “As soon as the court learns that a half-human, half-demon newcomer has arrived, they’ll start to talk. They’re not unheard of in Voke, but definitely uncommon. I need to meet with King Luther immediately.” Gallen left me alone with his wife. 

Unsure how to behave, I gave Gaia an awkward smile. She placed a hand on her pregnant belly. “Gallen never stops surprising me,” she said, a flicker of amusement crossing her eyes.