Page 76 of Heirs of the Cursed

“Let’s hope you have a way with women as well,” the older man said upon seeing Naithea.

At that, Leonel frowned and turned to look at her, brushing back the damp blond locks of hair that had fallen from its ponytail. She winked at him, happy to see him again. Differently from the rest of his comrades, Leonel was kind.

Last night, he’d walked toward her with nothing but jokes to make her laugh, mocking her serious face. No, he hadn’t been there to pay for her services, but for something else entirely: friendship.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, taking a step toward her. “This isn’t a proper place for a lady.”

He was joking, and Naithea knew it.

She smiled at him. “Then it’s a good thing I’m not a lady.”

“Miss.” Leonel’s trainer offered her a short bow. “Caedric Holliern at your service.”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to help me, sir.”

Leonel stepped forward and stroked Naithea’s forearm with concern flashing in his eyes. “Did something happen?” he asked quietly so that the curious soldiers wouldn’t overhear their conversation.

“I’m fine.”

A lie.

Nothing was fine and never would be, not until she found a way to save her sisters.

“You’re attracting a lot of attention right now.” Leonel looked around at his companions. “We aren’t used to the presence of a woman who actually desires our company.”

“It isn’t company I’m seeking, but help, Leo,” she admitted with urgency in her voice.

Leonel tensed at her words.

“How can I help you?”

“I want you to train me,” she replied.

Bitter laughter echoed behind her. Laughter from men who believed that a woman, and awhore, was incapable of learning the art of war. But Naithea, to the soldiers’ disappointment, wasn’t there to prove them right.

“Are you serious?”

“I’m not joking, Leo. I need this,” Naithea remarked before facing the soldiers who were still taunting her. “And laugh all you like. You won’t be when I’m better than all of you!”

Eames Cranner grinned at the confidence in her voice and the feline pride that coursed through Naithea’s veins. She might not leave the camp that afternoon as the best warrior in Lên Rajya, but she’d soon show them how much an angry woman could achieve.

“All right. Come,” Leonel said and invited her into the ring where they’d been training a few minutes before. “Eames, I’m going to need your sword.”

“It will be my pleasure,” Eames purred as he walked toward them. “Your presence is a delightful surprise. What happened to your low-cut dresses?”

“Your commander tore them from my body last night,” Naithea replied in kind and took the sword from his hand. Her free hand flew to the hilt when she noticed how heavy it was, earning an amused laugh from him. “How can you fight with this?”

“It’s called practice, princess.”

Naithea rolled her eyes. She had to repeatedly move the sword in her hand to balance the weight.

“It’s always tricky the first time,” Leonel reassured her as he approached her to show her how to hold it. “You have to keep a firm grip. Spread your fingers a little apart so that the weight is balanced. Now, try to lift it.”

She obeyed, or at least tried to. Naithea spent a few minutes handling the weapon, trying to get her arms used to its weightand her fingers to the gaps in the black leather hilt. When she did, Leonel smiled at her.

“Good, now you have to do the same with your body. To kill your opponent, your body and weapon must be one.” Leonel raised his sword and swung it gracefully in his hand. “Come on, try to hit me.”

Naithea’s eyes widened in surprise. “What? Now?”

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