Page 46 of Lady for Embers

“No. I was more so hoping if you started using your magic, the rest of it might manifest. Unless you want to try out my ?rst idea... ”

Cassius shook his head. “Scarlett gets into enough trouble without us putting her in danger on purpose. Give her a day or two, and she’ll do that herself.”

Chapter 10

Callan

Callan grunted as he was knocked onto the deck of the ship for what had to be the ?ftieth time that morning.

And they’d only been at this for an hour.

He’d lost count of how routine this had become since he’d asked Eliza to train him two weeks ago. How every night he went to bed sore and exhausted, even with the salves Cassius gave him to soothe the aches. Still, he was lucky to sleep even a few hours, and he always woke to nightmares of his parents’ blood pooling across the ?oor. Of Finn and Sloan falling as they tried to protect him, his sister, the royal family.

“Better,” Eliza said, reaching down and yanking him to his feet.

“Better?” Callan repeated. “How was that any different from before? I still ended up on the ground.”

“Yes, but you blocked the ?rst attack before the second one took you down. That’s progress,” Eliza said, kicking his feet apart a little more.

He’d known asking her to train him would be dif?cult, but good gods. Fae training was a completely different kind of torture. It was no wonder his father’s high force was so elite. If Sorin had been this demanding and brutal for the three years he’d been there...

But it hadn’t been his father’s order to train them up. Not really. It had been the suggestion of Lord Tyndell, the High Commander of the kingdom’s armies. The Lord had whispered and gently nudged him in this direction for months until one day, his father had “come up” with the idea of building a stronger force to protectagainst the unending threat of the Fae. All for this. All to eventually get Mikale Lairwood on the throne.

Now all the mortal kingdoms were ruled by Maraan Lords who all answered to Alaric, a Maraan Prince and the son of Deimas, who all the mortals believed had “saved” them from the Fae who were trying to enslave them. How had history gotten it so wrong?

A ?st to his jaw had him stumbling backwards, and he found an angry ?re general in his face. The ?st wasn’t surprising. It was that it came from her. She had refused to spar with him, making him face off against Rayner or Cyrus.

“If you’re going to waste my time, your Majesty, you get a ?st in that perfect face of yours. Focus,” she snapped before stepping back and motioning at Rayner. Callan heard Cyrus snicker from where he was sparring with Cassius, but he didn’t dare look at him and risk another blow. Cassius would give him some ointment he’d been taught to make that would heal his bruises within the day when they were done with this training session. Until then, he’d spar with an aching jaw because the general hadn’t held back on that hit.

“Focus on your opponent,” Eliza barked. “Nothing else. Watch his eyes, his feet. Study his movements.”

Rayner lunged. Callan managed to block his sword, but his feet were again swept out from under him, and he was again on his back.

“Again,” Eliza ordered as Rayner tugged him to his feet this time.

“He moves too fast,” Callan grumbled. “I can’t keep track of everything like I do with a mortal.”

“You need to be able to anticipate his moves, Callan. We’re all faster and stronger than you. We’re always going to be, and this is without our magic. You need to ?nd other advantages and weaknesses and capitalize on them.”

“How am I supposed to ?ght against magic?” Callan asked, frustration overcoming him. He’d never expected this to be easy, not in the slightest, but he hadn’t expected to be this godsdamn terrible either. He hadn’t expected to get his ass handed to him this easily every morning. How the hell did Scarlett do this before she could access her magic?

As if she’d heard his thoughts, the Wraith herself materialized in front of him. She plucked the sword from his grip, tossing it toher husband, who caught it with ease. Then she shoved two long knives into his hands. “You’re trying too hard, Callan.”

“Trying too hard?” he echoed in disbelief. “Am I supposed to not be trying?”

“You’re so focused, you’re not letting it come naturally,” she returned, beginning to circle him. She’d pulled more long knives sheathed down her back because the female never went anywhere without a minimum number of weapons on her body.

“What is natural about ?ghting a Fae warrior?” he scoffed, watching her as she moved, sliding her feet along the boards of the deck.

“Fighting to survive,” she replied simply.

And then she leapt at him. He had no warning. She’d given no hint she was actually going to attack him. He’d thought she was giving him a pep talk.

He blocked with one of the knives on instinct, and when she spun and brought her other one up, he blocked that one too. She leapt back, a small smile on her lips as she began moving again. “You were trained as a prince, Callan. You were trained for tradition, not actual war. You were never expected to ever step foot on a battle?eld.”

She attacked again, and this time, one of her blades cut a shallow gash along his chest.

“Stop thinking,” she ordered, coming at him again, not giving him any chance at a reprieve.

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