“Use it, Salas!” Otto shouted. “Use his mistake to win.”
I raised my sword, standing over Emil who sprawled in the grass of the riverbank behind the manor of his mother, Lady Lana.
The victory was right in front of me. One thrust, one touch of the cork on my sword to the chest of the young lord, and I’d be declared the winner of this training session. But Emil was a year younger than me and of a much slender build. My instinct was to protect him, not to hurt him.
With his reddish-blond curls spread on the grass, his large blue eyes filled with genuine fear, hereflectedthe green grass he lay on. Helpless and afraid, the sight of him disarmed me. This wasn’t the same as fighting Otto, the grown man of my own size.
My hand with the sword wavered.
Emil’s eyes glinted with excitement, spotting the opportunity.
“Got you!” He shoved his sword up and into my belly.
I hauled in pain, doubling over. He’d thrust so hard, it felt like a punch to my stomach, even as the cork prevented the blade from piercing my skin.
“I won!” Emil cheered, jumping to his feet. “I won! I won!”
“That’s your problem, Salas.” Otto took the sword from my hand. “You’re too kind. It’s not enough to be fast, strong, and skilled. A warrior must be ready to kill. You have to be ruthless if you want to succeed.”
A loud, slow clapping punctuated his words from a distance. We all turned at the sound. Lady Lana approached on horseback from down the stream. She’d draped the reins of her horse over the bow of her saddle, and was now clapping with her gloved hands.
“Mother! I won!” Emil hopped with glee. “Did you see it?”
“Well done, my son.”
Lady Lana threw her leg over the saddle, then hopped off the horse.
“Otto, take the horse back to the stables for me.” She tossed the reins to the teacher, then pulled her riding gloves off on her way to her son and me. “The boys and I will stay here for a bit. Right, boys?” She brushed by me, her shoulder touching my bicep. “I swear, Salas, every time I see you, you appear to have grown even taller.” She tilted her head back, looking up at me.
She was a short woman, plump, with soft curves to her face and body. Standing toe to toe with me, with her face turned up, her forehead was just below my collarbone. I’d be glad to stop growing. But at fourteen, they said I had quite a few more years to go.
“Not only taller but wider too.” She stroked with her finger across my chest, then down my arm. “Look at these muscles,” she murmured. “You’re practically bursting out of your shirts. I can’t buy new sizes fast enough for you.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that. It wasn’t my fault I was bigger than most boys my age. Both my parents were tall and what they called “big-boned.” I felt bad for the lady spending money on the shirts that I kept outgrowing. But she didn’t seem angry or offended. Her voice was a thick, low murmur I hadn’t heard from a woman yet and didn’t know how to respond.
Her touch was light and pleasant. Too pleasant, I realized, as shivers rippled down my belly to my crotch. I couldn’t define the feeling, but I instinctively sensed it wasn’t proper, especially toward Lady Lana.
The last time I touched a woman—the only time, really, except when tending to my mother during her illness—was at Emil’s birthday ball three months ago. His dance teacher had spent weeks teaching Emil and me to dance. Emil took to it much faster than I did. After weeks of daily practice, I’d only mastered the waltz well enough to do it at the ball in front of everyone.
Several unmarried young women had been invited to the ball. All were a little older than me. I got to dance with three of them. The memories of touching their waists and hands as we danced still haunted me at night, bringing all kinds of shameful thoughts and feelings.
I remembered Father’s words about Lady Lana possibly finding me a wife. Back then, the idea of marriage was nothing but words. After the birthday ball, however, I wondered if my future wife could be one of the girls I’d danced with.
I didn’t even remember their faces and had barely exchanged a handful of words with any of them, trying so hard not to mess up the steps or accidentally step with my giant shoes on theirdelicate satin sleepers. Ultimately, I decided it wouldn’t be the worst thing in life to have a girl like that to take me as her husband.
It’d be nice to find a friend in my wife, someone to care for and who’d care about me. I hoped her family would like me and that my father could come live with us, too. He’d been gone from the estate, working on some far-away farm on Lady Lana’s orders.
I had no idea how my marriage was supposed to be arranged. But I didn’t believe it involved Lady Lana touching me the way she was right now while practically purring into my ear.
“We should go,” I croaked, backing away from her hands.
“What’s your hurry?” She smiled, unbuttoning her dress. “Let’s swim a little. You’re covered in sweat.” She wrinkled her nose.
“But...”
I darted a glance around in search of an escape. I couldn’t tell exactly what was wrong about her taking her dress off in front of me or asking me to go swimming with her. It was a hot day. I had worked up a sweat while practicing swordsmanship with Otto and Emil. A swim would be great. But it still felt wrong.
“What’s the matter?” she teased. “It’s not like you’re scared or ashamed. You’re notreflecting.”