Page 71 of The Queen's Line

"Your people have faith in you," I said, finally earning a smile.

"I'm happy if they are," she said, and my steps paused.

She's being sincere, isn't she?I glanced over my shoulder and realized we were still alone. Thao had left, and the guard remained outside in the hall.Here is your opportunity.

"I didn't recognize the fighting style," I asked, moving closer to the wall, finding the fencing swords resting in their places and picking one up that looked weighted for me. I loved fencing. It was one of the rare avenues in schooling where I could excel against the wealthy—and legitimate—peers, without anyone trying to stomp me back down into the dirt.

"Thao is training me in inukat." She'd been wiping her palms on her pants, rocking her head on her long throat to work the tension out, and she paused, watching me with the sabre. "You fence?"

"Mm, in school."

"And you prefer sabre," she said, eyeing it with an almost predatory interest.

A real smile spread over my lips. "Have you been missing a proper match?"

She glanced to the door, but only for a second before hurrying to the wall, grabbing up a whip of blade and setting the broader sword aside. "Maybe a little. One touch winner?"

My eyes widened, and I glanced down at myself. I was fresh off my horse, and she was only half dressed for a match.

"I won't scratch you, just a little poke," Bryony said grinning, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

I laughed and rolled my shoulders. If I put so much as a scratch on the princess, I'd probably guarantee my head on a platter. But she wasn't really so delicate, was she? I could act defensively and let her win, see if it gained favor. Or…

I stepped back, sinking into position, knees bent and blade extended, body balanced. Bryony flashed me a feral little smile that sent heat running through me, and then moved into position.

"At the ready," I said, watching the slow release of her breath, the subtle shift in her shoulders. "Begin."

She was lightning quick, it was her obvious advantage against me, but I met her at center, blades clashing and tangling. Any consideration I'd had to let her win went out the window in the sudden spark of the match, and I took an opening against her left rib without thinking.

She gasped, and we jumped back from one another. I thought at first I'd used too much force, but there was barely a snag in her loose shirt.

"Point," I said, shrugging at her eyes.

"Out of three," she said immediately, gaze narrowing.

Well, this was a different kind of seduction than I might've expected, but I liked it better, my blood hammering through my veins as we moved back into position.

Her brow was furrowed in concentration, lips pursed in a pout of frustration that I was sure she would've pressed to a flat line if she'd realized it was there.

"Begin."

She learned quickly, charging and lacking any hesitation, taking an opening on my right shoulder that most of my schoolmates had never bothered learning. The tip of her blade bit into the skin of my arm, but it just raised my excitement, the little pinprick she'd promised to deliver.

"Point," she said, arching an eyebrow.

She blinked at my answering smile and backed away, our steps a reflection of one another. "At the ready," she murmured, sinking into her knees.

Now was the moment, fuck the third point. I'd have a victory either way.

"Begin," I said, and we both made quick steps to center.

I held my blade wide, dodging out of regulation as she aimed for me. I appeared in front of her before she knew I was coming. Her breath caught as I wrapped an arm around her back and hauled her roughly against my chest, her head rearing back to look up at me.

"I wonder why your Chosen didn't stay. If sword-fighting doesn't satisfy you, I can promise a better way to make your heart race…" I trailed off as I watched her, felt her stiffen in my arms, watched her eyes widen, pupils contracting as she tried to lean away.

Fear. Just for a moment.

Perhaps I knew three kinds of women because this was a familiar sight too. My mother had startled and cowered this way when she found herself abandoned in our cottage, alone with a man and only me as a little boy to bear witness. I was ready to pull away, but Bryony was quicker, and I stilled as a long blade slid neatly up through the space between us, the sharp tip kissing the underside of my throat.