I nod, but then say, “I know you think I can do this, but look at me.” I fan my hand down my body. “I’m all of five foot and…and,” I stutter. “Well, all of five foot.” The extra two inches doesn’t add much at this point. I plant my hands on my hips.
He steps up to me. “Size is no matter.” He kicks my legs out from under me. I hit the ground hard, my breath whooshes out. “Once you learn how to block out the pain, and how to absorb blows, you won’t be scared when they come.”
I can’t believe he just did that. I slowly sit up and grab my aching back. “You bastard.”
“Yeah,” he remarks. And I can hear the change in his voice, the lilt of his words. He’s dropped his practiced formalities. “You’re not going to like me much during this. But it’s required. To harden you. Even before you came here as a princess, you were pampered.” He reaches down and takes my hand, then pulls me up. “I have to beat the spoiled princess out of you.” He sweeps my legs again.
“Damn it—”
“Well, I thought you knew it was coming.” He laughs. “You should’ve learned the first time.”
I glare up at him, striking through my previous mental note of apology for his bruise. He’s going to return the favor tenfold. And he has no right to accuse me of being spoiled! My father raised me anything but. “Just how am I supposed to block when you haven’t shown me.”
He squats beside me, balancing on the balls of his feet. “You know your body better than I do, princess.” His eyes scan over me. “Figure it out.”
I get to my feet, angrily dusting the earth off myself. “You know better than to call me that when we’re alone. You’re doing it to anger me.”
“And it’s working.” His eyes glint devilishly in the moonlight. “You need to get better control over your emotions. You’re far too easily vexed,” he spits the word mockingly.
I bite the inside of my lip, stopping myself from unleashing a slew of profanities at him. He’s purposely trying to get a rise out of me. Remembering how he trained me to ride, it doesn’t surprise as much as it annoys.
No matter his tactic, I know I need to be tougher, stronger—less breakable. I picture Hart’s face on the monitor, his beady, cold eyes, and latch onto the fire surging through my veins. “Fine,” I grind out. “Again.”
After hitting the ground so many times I lose count, I finally manage to evade one of his attacks.
Devlan stands before me, his arms laced over his chest. “Good.” He circles me. “Now learn to do that when your foe comes from behind.”
I hear his foot brush the ground and immediately jump backward and fall into him. His arm reaches around my shoulder and I go limp, dropping to the ground. I’ve discovered I’m not so much a fighter, but rather a rag doll. My skills seem to be floppiness and confusing him instead of trying to match his muscle, which I know I can’t do. He attempts to grab me, but I roll to the side.
“Damn.” He walks around and looks down at me, a tight smile crooking his lips. “That’s not bad.”
My chest inflates, and I jump to my feet. “Ha. I won’t be looking at you from the ground again.”
He rushes me and I panic. Waving my hands uselessly, I stumble back. He grasps me around the waist and hauls me into the air, my arms pinned to my side. His face is close to mine and he squints, studying my face to read my next move. I desperately want to own that ability. I turn my head away and kick, but he locks my feet between his thighs.
“What body part is free?” he says, grunting.
I wriggle against him, then stare into his eyes, his cocky smile. I don’t think—I slam my forehead into his. My anger works well for me, I decide. Then the pain rushes the front of my face, behind my eyes. Devlan falls to the ground, bringing me with him.
“Err,” he groans, his lips spreading into a soft smile. “I’m back to being convinced of your hardheadedness.”
I laugh and drop my head against his shoulder. “I think I need to aim for the nose, rather than give myself a horrid headache.”
“Good call.”
I feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath me. His breaths slow, and his body tenses. I can feel the solid curve of his muscles; his chest and stomach, and my face heats. I lift my head and stare down at him. His features are strained, his brow slightly creased.
I should move. I need to move off him.
But when he brushes my hair behind my ear, my whole body thrums, igniting under that simple touch, and I’m frozen. His lips part, his head lifts off the ground, and his breath brushes against my lips. His hands palm the back of my head and lower back, and then he flips me over. As his weight bears down on me, I suck in a breath. His face drops closer to mine as he reaches his hand down, grabs something out of his boot, then his movements are too quick for me to register—
He sinks a dagger into the earth beside my head.
I choke back a cry and my heart slams against my breastbone.
He looks to the side, then palms the ground and pushes up, getting to his feet. “Always be on guard.”
My eyes slip over the blade. It gleams, catching the blue streaks of the sky. I pull in quick, sharp breaths to calm the ache spreading through my chest.
Devlan walks over to the leather bag and picks it up. “Even when your foe appears to be rendered helpless,” he says, his voice tense, his eyes shaded by the dark, “always be on guard.”
I sit up and bring my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around my legs. My eyes sting, and I rub the heels of my hands into the sockets. I don’t know if I’m more upset that he scared the shit out of me or that I let my guard down. Or that I thought…I push the stupid thought aside.
He scared the shit out of me.
I take steady breaths to calm down fully and angle my head to watch Devlan throw the supplies into the pack with quick, edgy movements. I still have so much to learn.
About myself.
And him.
TWENTY-ONE
I kick at the dirt and pine straw as I walk to the log seats. Sitting down, I stare up at Devlan. He continues to gather our stuff and toss it into the bag. “So how horrible am I?” I ask.
His head snaps my way. “Not horrible at all.” He stuffs my green dress into the satchel. “It would be ridiculous to think you could best me in one night.” He reveals a small smile. “But you surprised me more than once, and that’s more than many of the Rebels I trained with.”
My chest expands as I take in a big breath. I didn’t expect a compliment from him. “And how long did you train?”
He walks over and drops to the ground near me. He looks up into my eyes, the pale moon bathing his face in a soft glow. “Right after I left Court, Micah approached me. One of her spies informed her of the prince having a falling-out with his best friend.” He looks to the river. “It didn’t take long to convince me to join. I trained nearly every day before coming back here when I turned eighteen, the age required to become a knight.”
“So you’ve been here how long? A year?”
“Yeah. I’m nineteen. Sebastian advanced me to first knight quickly.” He glances around. “We should head back. You shouldn’t miss out on any more sleep. It’ll start to look suspicious, especially if you’re limping around.”
I rub the back of my neck. “I’m going to feel like death tomorrow.” Tomorrow. I enjoy the way the speech I’ve learned from Devlan feels on my tongue. I wish I could’ve kept my father’s books. I’d like to study them and learn more.
Devlan shakes his head and laughs. I especially enjoy that rare laugh. “I’ll bring you a soak in the morning. It’ll help the soreness.”