Page 68 of A War Apart

Mila

Istepped into the stables, out of the breathtakingly cold air. The silence in my rooms had been driving me mad. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Han. How he’d been captured, what his last moments had been like. Remembering the look of devastation on his face in that last week before I’d left for court, when I’d told him we didn’t have a family. Regretting that I’d wasted our last days together avoiding him out of a misplaced desire to protect him.

I couldn’t protect him now. I could only hope to avenge him.

A stablehand shoveled muck in the farthest stall, but other than that, the stables were empty of people. Nearly empty of horses, as well. The full court wouldn’t return for another day or two, bringing the rest of the stable’s occupants with them.

I wandered through the quiet building, stopping to rub the nose of a friendly mare who nuzzled me in search of treats.

“None today,” I murmured. I’d have to bring some carrots the next time I came.

A clanging sound drew my attention. I gave the horse one last pat and followed the noise to a door on the other side of the building.

The door was open, and I peered inside. A large room held wooden swords and blunted weapons, stuffed dummies and large unlabeled sacks. A training room. In the middle, shirtless, with sweat dripping down his back, was Alexey, a blunted sword in his hand. He faced away from me, executing a series of positions. The muscles in his back rippled as he moved.

Such grace, and yet such power as well. I didn’t need to see him face an opponent to know he was deadly. What would it be like to have that power? To know that no one could hurt me? If I’d had a weapon and the skill to wield it, how different would my life be? I could have saved my son and Marya Ivanovna. Saved myself.

Possibly even stayed with Han and saved him when Miroslav had come to take him.

Alexey turned, following the motion of his sword, and froze as his eyes met mine.

“Sofia!”

My cheeks heated, and I bit my lip. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I heard a noise, and—” I broke off, looking away. There was nothing I could say to explain why I’d been staring at him. Nothing that wouldn’t sound ridiculous.

He strode to the wall and set his sword down, picking up a crumpled shirt and pulling it over his head. “I apologize for my appearance. I didn’t realize anyone else was here.”

I should apologize and leave him to his training, but I had to ask. “Where did you learn that?”

“The drills?” When I nodded, he shrugged. “I’ve been studying swordplay since I was a child. My father worked here in thestables, and when I wasn’t working with him, I’d come in here to watch the men train.”

No wonder he was so skilled. He’d been training his whole life. “It’s incredible. I wish I’d learned swordplay as a child.”

The words had slipped out before I could stop them. Alexey frowned, looking me over. Would my mouth never stop? He probably thought it was inappropriate for a woman to want to learn such a masculine pursuit. “I mean—”

He cut me off. “You’d be better suited to a dagger, if you’re looking for something to defend yourself.”

I blinked, staring at him, as he walked to a large chest and opened it.

“Here.” He pulled out a wooden dagger and tossed it to me.

It slipped through my fingers and landed on the ground at my feet. My face was in flames as I bent to pick it up. Thank Otets for Sofia’s dark skin; as Mila, my embarrassment would be visible to everyone, but as Sofia, my tendency to blush was less apparent.

“Something that size would work better, and you could keep it on you.” He walked toward me, stopping an arms-length away. “If it would help you feel more at ease, I could teach you to use one.”

He was offering to teach me? I’d never considered it as an actual possibility. Fighting was for the men. Even my father, who’d taken me to inns and sang bawdy songs with me—much to my mother’s chagrin—had never given me a weapon, never taught me to defend myself.

After a moment of silence, he pulled his hand back, glancing away. “I’m sorry. I was being presumptuous.”

“Yes.”

He looked into my eyes. “Yes?”

“Yes. I want to learn.” Anything to give me a way to protect myself from men like Kazimir Vladimirovich.

Alexey gave me a wide grin. “Well, then.” He took my hand, the one holding the dagger, and held it up. “The first thing is knowing how to grip it. How you’re holding it now will only work if you’re coming down from above. Since you’re small, you’d usually be attacking from below.” He took the dagger from me, flipped it over, and placed it back in my hand, wrapping my fingers around it. “Make sure to keep all your fingers below the blade, or you’ll injure yourself as much as your opponent.”

“Like this?”

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