Page 27 of Bloodguard

“But what if you get called in to fight and your wounds reopen?”

He crosses through the garden to a small training area with practice swords leaning against a stand. He looks good.Reallygood. And not merely in the healthy manner I’d intended. Eyes illuminated with cunning and swirling with lasciviousness take in this day’s battlefield in one sweep as his muscles bulge and relax as he readies to take me on. He picks up one of the heavy swords, twirling it from his wrist as though it weighs no more than a twig. “Feel free to try to open them.”

I sigh.Gladiators.

I reach him in just a few strides and pick up the other sword. When Vitor stopped training me, Father, a revered soldier himself, took over that task—if for no other reason than to thwart a possible kidnapping attempt. I think it’s high time I show this cranky behemoth that not every royal is useless.

“Stay within the perimeter of the clearing or else you’re out,” I say and gesture to the edges of the field. “And don’t worry. I promise to hold back.”

“Oh, I wasn’t worried,” he replies casually.

I bounce in place to warm up. “You should be. I’m quite lethal.”

He makes a face. “Yeah. It shows, Princess.”

I lift my sword, move a few steps back, and take a practice swing to loosen up—only for Leith to knock my sword out of my hand with his. I glare at him.

“I wasn’t ready.” Just as a self-satisfied smirk reaches his lips, I drop down and sweep my leg under his. He falls as fast as any arrogant bastard should. I then use my instep to hook the hilt of my sword and kick it into the air. I catch it and grin. Seconds. That’s all it took me to act. I stare down at him, trying not to full-out guffaw at the shock riddling his features. “I am now.”

To his credit, he never dropped his weapon. Using speed uncommon to most humans, he kicks up, whirls, and strikes.

My hands and arms vibrate from the force when his practice blade collides with mine, and pain shoots all the way up to my shoulders. I try not to show it, using the momentum to spin in the air and come down in an arc.

Leith blocks my hit and the next, and I leap back when he launches forward. Back and forth, back and forth, and…shit, this is hard. I didn’t expect to be better or even equal. But I still expected to do better thanthis.

I barely keep up, gritting my teeth.

“Are you smiling or snarling?” he asks, leaping when I try to sweep his leg again.

I’m actually grunting, but I don’t admit it. “Just pondering what to do after I win.”

“Sweetheart, the day you win is the day I crawl into a hole and die.”

“Then get ready to crawl to your death,” I say.

Leith laughs. I focus on my strikes and not, definitely not, the smooth motion of his hips or how the muscles in his arms bunch up before each swing.

Leith is brutal in the arena, but here, with me, his swordplay is almost…majestic.

He drops to a crouch when I take my next swing, the speed at which he moves billowing his long hair and permitting me to slice off the ends. He stares at the falling strands. “Don’t look at me like that. You needed a haircut, and you know it.” I blush because yes, it was a total accident. “It will continue to grow, just like your ego.”

The strike he follows up with nearly causes me to lose my footingandmy weapon. This is unfair—he’s not even breathing hard. He lunges forward, forcing me closer to the perimeter. I leap and roll aside, just barely making it to my feet before he’s on me again.

Aside from Uncle Vitor and Father, I’ve never sparred with someone at this level.

But then, rarely have I ever had to fight for my life.

Leith does this regularly, lasting however long he needs to win.

He easily deflects my next two offensive moves. “I”—slash—“can prepare a batch of medicines if your family could benefit from them”—block and pivot—“and a chest of coins for expenses they”—gasp—“might have incurred in your absence.”

I barely get the words out.

Leith…he still isn’t even winded.

I spin away, and he allows me a few seconds to drag air into my lungs. A tacit form of thanks, maybe.

“Tell me,” I say when I can breathe again, “won’t marrying aprincessto becomekinghelp your family? Didn’t you say you’d do anything for them?”

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