Page 46 of A Pact of Blood

Interesting. I study him in turn. “You think I should be.”

“You’re the empress—to allow anyone to insult you?—”

He snaps his mouth shut, but I think I understand enough. Lorenzo thought he’d called me “pathetic.”

“You feel I’m too soft,” I suggest gently. “Did you not see me endure Emperor Tarquin’s trials to make it to this point?”

A slight flush has reddened the guard’s face. “I would never say you’re not strong. We just haven’t had many who are dedicated to Elox here, other than the medics. It’s not… a common attitude.”

Ah. He assumes my peaceful nature will interfere with what strength I could bring to bear.

I suppose that’s not an unexpected concern when the Darium empire was built through war and maintained through violent dominance. And when this man has no idea just how forcefully I’ve been willing to assert my own will for the right cause.

The other guard interrupts our conversation with a clearing of her throat and a gesture toward a doorway we’ve come up on. “The gymnasium.”

I smile at her in thanks and give Kassun one last glance. “I trust in time you’ll see that my dedication to healing and harmony only prepares me to defend whatever I hold dear.”

As usual, the guards hang back by the doorway as I enter the room.

The space is large enough that I’d imagine a couple dozen men and women could train in here at a time without it becoming overcrowded. Most of the floor is covered with thin mats for absorbing impact. Racks of training weapons stand along one wall. Another is hung with targets of various sorts alongside a few wooden dummies. For all the palace staff keep the place clean, they haven’t been able to completely erase the sweaty tang from the air.

In the midst of that space, only two figures are waiting for me. I assume Marclinus reserved the room solely for myuse during this lesson—and I can’t say I mind the lack of spectators.

Raul moves forward with a nod of greeting. “Your Imperial Highness,” he says, with just a hint of wryness at the formal title.

Despite his tone, his expression stays grim. His gaze sweeps over me as if searching for injuries. I suspect from the flexing of his shoulders that he’s remembering last night’s poisoning—and wishing he could thrash my husband for it.

He kept his cool impressively well during Marclinus’s test. All of my lovers did, but knowing Raul’s temperament, I suspect it was the most struggle for him.

My husband could learn a lot from the foster brothers he disdains.

Raul’s next words come out with a more ominous undertone. “Are you well?”

Even the lingering sting in my lungs has faded since breakfast. “Quite.” My attention veers to his hands, which have risen in front of him. His knuckles are freshly bandaged. “I hope you are also.”

Raul follows my gaze. His mouth twists, but he’s as aware of the guards watching from the doorway as I am. “I have no complaints.”

He gestures me over to where our other companion is waiting.

Prince Neven stands on the central mat, his stance a little awkward. His muscular but gangly teenage frame reminds me even more of an overgrown puppy than usual when he offers me a sheepish smile. “Raul suggested I could help.”

“We’re focusing on defending yourself against attackers,” Raul explains. “It’ll be easier for me to coach you if I can watch how you handle someone else instead of having to be right in there myself. And this one could use some morepointers himself.” He gives his younger foster brother a nudge.

“Of course.” I suppose it would have seemed odd if he’d brought in Bastien or Lorenzo instead when neither of them are much inclined toward combat.

I meet Neven’s gaze. “I appreciate you contributing your time—and looking out for me as best you can.”

Not just now, but last night when he argued with Marclinus on my behalf.

The young prince’s awkwardness fades. “You’re one of us—come from farther away. That’s almost like family.”

It appears he doesn’t hold any continued animosity toward me for rejecting their escape plan either.

“All right, enough chatting.” Raul motions me over to the weapons rack. “These are all blunt. Pick one that’s a size and weight you feel comfortable with. Once we know what you can handle best, you can see about getting a proper knife or dagger to keep on you.”

The thought of carrying around an obvious deadly weapon makes my skin crawl. “Is that really necessary?”

“Obviously we’d hope your guards can intervene before it gets to that point.” Raul shoots a pointed look toward the two by the door. “But if an attacker makes it past them, a blade is your best chance at slowing them down or even stopping them. I’m not going to be able to turn your fists or feet into all that effective a weapon in a single session.”

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