Page 114 of A Fate so Cruel

“How’s your aim?”

She stopped pulling him along and twisted to stare at him in confusion. “What?”

“Your aim. With weapons.”

Selina snorted. “Such grand conversation to have before dinner.”

“I thought you wanted it to stay professional.”

She scrunched her face. “My aim is just fine, thank you. I’m not a novice.”

“You’re the one who asked me to train you, remember? I was just thinking it might be wise to carry a few daggers instead of walking around unarmed.”

Her playful smile returned. “What makes you think I’m unarmed?”

At that, he reassessed her gait. The way her hands moved.

“Where are they?”

She smirked. “That’s for me to know and everyone else to find out.”

Selina spun back around with a little skip in her step. Rion studied her form, then decided he didn’t want to linger on the areas where she might have hidden her weapons. Instead, he simply said, “Well done.”

She snorted at his compliment. “As if I need your approval.”

He tried not to smirk. “Isn’t that what all students seek?”

“I’m interested in your unique combatives, not weapon skills.”

“Maybe those are unique, too.”

“I’ve seen them and they’re nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“You’ve seen Saoirse fight.” It wasn’t a question, but he wanted to know more about the female’s confrontation.

“In the field, but we never fought head to head, in case that’s what you’re wondering.”

“I was.”

She tsked. “You’re a nosy one, aren’t you?”

“I’d call myself curious.”

“Haven’t you ever heard what curiosity did to the cat?”

“I’m not a cat, now am I?”

She rolled her eyes and they continued on, walking three blocks until they reached the library. It was a rather impressive building with two small cafes flanking either side. Both had lines stretching out the door, much to Selina’s disappointment.

She pushed open the heavy double doors and gestured him inside the library. The scent of old books greeted Rion like an old friend. His gaze automatically scanned the shelves, searching for the historical section. He wondered if Whiteridge continued old tomes he’d never seen. Whether they taught a different history and if there were different things he couldlearn. Maybe they even had some information those from Nàdair weren’t privy to.

Patrons sat at various tables, some with small stacks of books while others leafed through a single text. They sipped from steaming mugs and none looked up when the door closed behind the newcomers. Rion had the distinct impression that if he spoke, they’d all jump out of their skins before scolding him for making noise, demon lord or no.

Reluctantly, Rion turned away from the shelves and proceeded to the main desk. They waited a full ten minutes for someone to show up. Rion scowled at their slow pace. Selina busied herself by flipping through a nearby book. Her hand covered the title.

“Can I help you?” the librarian whispered. His voice was rough, calloused, as if he were offended that anyone stood before his desk at all.

Rion lowered his voice a fraction, if only to be polite to the other guests. “I need blueprints to the palace.”

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