But Fordham knocked on her door at dawn.
Dawn.
She knew he’d said it the night before, but she hadn’t wanted to think he was serious. Especially since they had been gallivanting around the city well into the night.
Every part of her screamed to ignore him and fall back into a dreamless slumber, but today was her first day of training. So, she got up and put on her favorite pair of black pants, carefully bound her chest—she’d learned long ago to do that before any kind of fighting session—and then threw a loose shirt overtop. She braided her hair into a curly plait, wishing she had Darby’s magic fingers, and then stepped into the hallway. She looked a wreck, and Fordham looked like… a prince.
It truly wasn’t fair that he could look like that with only such few hours of sleep. His black-and-silver House of Shadows attire pristine. His back straight, chin lifted, shoulders pushed back. The only sign that he wasn’t happy about the early morning wake-up call was the half-moon bruises under his eyes, which said he’d slept about as well as she had.
“Morning,” he said, almost chipper.
“Ugh,” she groaned in response.
He nodded his head down the hallway, and she followed him out of the mountain. He finally stopped in a small grove outside of the city. The sun hadn’t quite set, and the final blue-black of night was disappearing as a haze of morning crept onto the horizon. Fordham tossed her some bread and a waterskin.
“You’re going to need that,” he said. “So, don’t drink it all.”
She mock saluted him as she washed the bread down with water. “So, what are we doing today? Sword fighting, hand-to-hand combat, elemental prowess?”
“We’ll start with a warm-up and see where you are.”
“Okay. What’s the warm-up?”
“Five-mile run and then a series of strength exercises.”
Her eyes bugged. “Five miles?”
“To start. We can build you up to more.”
“Or not. I only run if someone is chasing me.”
“With your nightly activities, I would think that happens more often than not,” he quipped. “We have to get you in better physical shape if you hope to make it through this fight. Plus, if Dozan comes up with information on who the assassin is, I don’t want to have to pull all the weight.”
She rolled her eyes. “Like you’re so much better than me because you can run.”
“You need discipline,” he said, squaring his shoulders off with her and looking her in the eye. “You’re lazy and unfocused. If you had half the prowess you proclaim from some street fights, then you would have handled that assassin with ease.”
“Fine, princeling. I need discipline. And that means running?” she asked skeptically.
“You know what? Let’s get this out of the way.” Fordham stripped out of his cloak and laid it in the grass. “Go ahead and try me.”
“Try you?” she said. “You want to fight?” She looked around. “Right here?”
“Is that not appropriate for you?”
“Not many people know how much magic I have,” she admitted, touching her ears.
“That’s good. Then, they can underestimate you.” He began to circle her.
The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. He stalked her like prey, a slow, steady prowl. The magic in his veins crackled to life. She could practically feel the hum of him brushing against her fair skin.
“They can.” A shudder snaked down her skin. This might have been a mistake. Training with someone like Fordham certainly hadn’t been her best idea. The monster that you knew was still a monster. “They do… underestimate me.”
“Like me?” he asked silkily.
And somehow, the softness in his voice was worse than all the harsh edges and barbs.
“Uh… yes. Like you.”
She brought her magic close into her chest. A gentle thrum of power that suffused her body, bringing it to life, as if all along, she had just been going through the motions, and here, like this, she was real. She was prepared. Her feet were spaced perfectly apart. Her hands were held in tight fists at her sides. Her awareness was controlled and ready.
Then, Fordham turned the corner, finishing his methodical stroll around her body, and all her perfect planning fell to shit.
He jabbed out lightning fast with one hand, brandishing water magic like it was the air in his lungs. It slashed out, lassoing around her legs. She managed to sidestep, getting thrown onto her back, but it was exactly what he’d been anticipating. One second, he was in front of her, and the next, his feet were dancing through steps so fast that she couldn’t even put together the forms. He moved like the wind, as if he’d been born to this. His foot caught her at the same time a brush of wind catapulted her backward, and the earth beneath her feet propelled upward.
She sailed through the air, landing hard on her backside, a solid ten feet from where she had been standing earlier. And Fordham stood there with his arms crossed over his chest and one eyebrow raised.