Page 49 of Ties of Dust

The guard lunged, his sword flicking forward in a move that Cassius had to admit was neat sword work. He thought for certain it would get through Flora’s defenses, but he was wrong. She ducked down, one leg sliding out to the side to enable her to get low, as she thrust her head in the opposite direction, dodging the incoming blade.

Contrary to his expectation, she didn’t lose her balance—in fact, she was able to keep one paddle spinning, the hand holding it pushed out in the same direction as herhead. The other pole was still, but as the guard lunged past her, she flicked it outward, catching him in the midriff.

He let out a grunt, but pivoted neatly, bearing down on the still-crouching girl.

Flora wasn’t done. Before Cassius’s eyes, a column of dirt rose from the ground between the fighters, shooting straight into the guard’s eyes. He let out a curse and floundered. It was only for a moment, but it was all Flora needed. She sprang to her feet, sliding one pole expertly through her belt and plunging her free arm toward the other guard, all while the second paddle kept spinning. Cassius watched in horror as Flora closed her hand around the naked blade in the other man’s hand and yanked it free with a strength that made no sense for her lean frame. She threw it behind her with a clatter as she took a stride forward and, almost too quickly for Cassius to see, hooked one foot behind the stranger’s ankle.

Next thing Cassius knew, the guard was flat on his back on the dirt of the training yard, Flora’s knee on his bare chest and the small blade from her side at his throat.

He stared in shock as she threw away her remaining pole, then flicked him—hard—right in the Adam’s apple.

“And that,” she told him sweetly, as he made a choking sound, “is all the touch you will get from these pretty hands of mine.”

With the words, she was gone from her opponent, who was still staring stupidly upward. There was a hushed silence in the yard, into which his now-raspy voice issued.

“I think I’m in love.”

Roars of laughter went up from the onlookers, followed swiftly by cheers and whistles for Flora’s performance. Cassius took a step toward her, but in a moment, he could barely see her as every guard in the area mobbed her.

“All right, all right.” He waded in, the men falling back as they realized who was approaching. “Leave her alone, she’s supposed to be on duty.”

“My apologies, Your Highness,” Flora said quickly. “I thought you said my services wouldn’t be required while you trained.”

“You’re not in trouble,” he told her, exasperated. He seized her hand, lifting it and turning it over twice, confused to see unbroken skin. “But the blade…”

“Oh, I was using a cushioning enchantment,” she told him cheerfully. “Very temporary and very localized…but highly effective. Those paddles stir up a formidable amount of power.” She shot a cheeky grin at the guard she’d bested, who’d picked himself up by now. “When wielded skillfully, that is.”

The man’s eyes were shining as he approached. Flora held up a hand.

“No, I’m not going again, so—”

“No, you misunderstand,” he told her. “I don’t want to fight you again. I can acknowledge myself bested. Do you want to dine with—”

“No.” The refusal came from Cassius this time, his tone unyielding. “Absolutely not. Get back to your training.” He scowled. “And fire and blood, man, put on a shirt.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

The guard cast one more regretful look at Flora before complying. Cassius dismissed him from his mind, his focus on Flora.

“Point taken,” he told her. “You’re not a lady-in-waiting masquerading as a guard.”

Her gaze was a little too innocent. “I wasn’t trying to prove anything to you, Your Highness. Just defending my good name.”

He eyed her. “I suppose I can’t train here now, can I? We’re already too much of a spectacle.”

“No, of course you can, Your Highness,” she said, repentant. “I’ll stay out of trouble, I promise.” She sent him that swift, open smile he found so endearing. “I’ll be glad to. Fighting with magic takes a lot of energy.” She rolled her shoulder. “And I don’t think that constitutes resting my shoulder as the physician instructed. I got a little carried away.”

Concern flared within Cassius, but she didn’t give him a chance to express it.

“Speaking of which.” She frowned. “You shouldn’t be sparring either, should you?”

“I’m fine,” he said dismissively. “I suppose I should take you back to your room to rest, but—”

“But you need to let out some tension after what I assume was a very unproductive conversation with your father.” She nodded sagely. “I understand, Your Highness. I’m in no hurry to retire.”

She moved dutifully back to the wall, leaving him free to strip off his jacket and take up a sword. He was quick to accept the first guard willing to challenge him, and within moments he was in position. Normally he would remove his shirt, which after all wasn’t designed for fighting, but he didn’t feel he could do so with Flora watching. Particularly not after admonishing the other guard for it.

He and the guard were satisfyingly well-matched, and the bout lasted a solid ten minutes. Cassius took a few blows—at one point his opponent unknowingly slammed a shoulder into Cassius’s still-healing arm—but he gave as good as he got, and the man never managed to land a hit with the sword. Cassius didn’t mind the light bruises that would likely form. They were worth it for the release thatcame from a solid bout, especially after so long on the road without the opportunity to practice.

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