House of Dragons (Royal Houses 1)

“You favor your left side,” he said simply. “I know that because I know you.”

“Okay,” she croaked, rising to her feet again. “Know your enemy. Got it. But how can I do that if I don’t know my opponent?”

Fordham picked back up where he’d left off, and she reluctantly followed him. Though she was more on guard this time. This was a lesson, not basic footwork.

“If you don’t know your opponent,” he told her, “then you rely on your training. You must understand how others fight, all the potential ways they could attack you, have a mental dictionary of ways that an opponent could hurt you. Then, you train every one of those mistakes out of you.”

Kerrigan slid into the next movement, considering what he’d said. “You’re going to train my mistakes out of me?”

“Yes and no. I’m going to train every mistake out of you. So that when an assassin comes at you again, you aren’t surprised when they jump out of the shadows.” He finished the last sequence and let the sword drop to his side.

This time, when he attacked, she was ready.

* * *

Fordham still beat her every single time they sparred. It was beyond frustrating since she had thought that she was pretty good with a sword before this. He was just that much better.

By the third day, she thought she was finally making a bit of improvement. Not that she could win against him, but she wasn’t losing quite as fast. This was the opposite of how she had been taught. Her teachers had all shown her how to fight. Fordham was training her in all the ways not to fight. Explaining the ways others fought and twisting it around to show how to break down the movements and counter, how to win. It was exhausting, both physically and mentally.

Especially because Fordham refused to let either of them go through healing.

“The pain makes you stronger,” he told her after she asked him again if she could go get a quick healing.

“Right now, it makes me feel terrible.”

“You won’t always be in a position where you can get healing. You might have to deal with injuries. Healing makes it so that you don’t have any way to handle pain. If you’ve never been hurt before, then the shock of it will be a stumbling block.”

“Is that what you mean by battlefield healing? How you were able to pop your shoulder back into place in the tournament and fight through broken ribs?”

His eyes went far away. “Yes. That was not the worst that I’d ever endured.”

Kerrigan frowned. She didn’t like when he was withdrawn. As if he were imagining a not-too-distant past where he had suffered many horrors.

He blinked, and it was gone. “In a battle, magic is reserved for fighting. It drains you too quickly to use magic to heal. You learn to fix what you can and deal with anything else.”

“Okay,” she muttered. “No healing.”

“You are getting stronger,” he told her, taking the practice sword and replacing it. “That is all for today.”

Kerrigan took another sip of water and considered how to ask him the next question. She’d decided yesterday that she wanted to do this. She wasn’t sure how Fordham would react. But still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed this.

“What are your plans tonight?” she asked him, still facing away to hide her blush.

“Plans?” He sounded suspicious. “Do you have a new lead?”

“Unfortunately, no. But… do you want to go into the city with me?”

“Does this involve torture?”

She laughed, finally turning. “Some people might say so. Though I think you’d like it.”

Now, he looked even more suspicious. “What is it?”

“A surprise.”

“I don’t like surprises,” he told her.

“You’ll like this one, princeling.” She grinned. “Meet me at the entrance in an hour. Wear normal clothes.”

He frowned. “What’s normal?”

“Something less… princely.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” His eyes were searching hers. “Am I going to regret this later?”

She stepped backward, toward the exit of the House of Dragons’ training room. “Depends. Can’t you anticipate my next move? Isn’t that what you’ve been training me on?”

“That’s precisely why I am skeptical.”

“Live on the wild side with me,” she said with a wink and then swiftly exited the room, her heart pounding in her chest.

She’d done it. She’d actually asked him out.

36

The Artisan Village

“This is the Artisan Village,” Kerrigan informed Fordham an hour later as they walked casually through Kinkadia.

As promised, he’d worn something resembling normal clothing. He’d replaced the black-and-silver princeling garb with an all-black shirt and pants. His cloak was wool and not silk. At a glance, he looked shockingly… human. But then he’d tilt his chin up just so, and she’d see that he couldn’t completely hide who he was, even under cotton and wool and linen.

“There’s an opera house just there. They have quarterly ballets as well. And there”—she pointed out another street—“they call that Painters Row, as it mirrors the aristocratic row on the eastern side of the valley, but it’s just for artists—drawing, painting, sculpting.”