Page 87 of A Reign of Roses
“Nothing of the sort.” I pulled Arwen’s warm body into mine and pressed a kiss into her hair. “Your sister’s become quite the swordswoman.”
“I know you wanted to teach me, but…” Leigh’s face dropped.
Griffin coughed. Ryder studied the blades of grass at his fingers.
“I know,” Arwen said quietly. “But I’m back now. Swordsmanship is wonderful, isn’t it?”
Leigh beamed. “Better than drawing. Better than riding a horse. I feel like a mighty beast.”
“For a tiny thing, you swing like one, too,” Barney huffed, hands on his knees. “I’m exhausted.”
I offered Barney a half grin. “In that case, may I?”
Barney nodded, handing me his blade and plopping to sit beside Beth and Ryder, snow puffing up in his wake. Ryder gave him a good-natured pat on the back, while Beth said nothing. Then she offered him her jug of water, which Barney accepted with a wide-eyed nod, patting sweat from his shiny bald head.
Leigh gaped as she beheld me with Barney’s sword.
“You’regoing to teach me?”
“Just a few tips.”
Arwen beamed beside Griffin, who only raised a brow. “We have to meet Kleio and Phylip soon.”
“Let them have their fun,” Arwen teased, nudging my commander in the arm. “I’m sure she’ll make quick work of him, won’t you, Leigh?”
Griffin hardly concealed his grin at the little blonde’s vigorous nod.
Arwen was right. We couldn’t live like this—both of us, in constant fear that at any moment something horrific could befall the other. Or someone else we loved. We had to chase the joy when it presented itself to us.
“All right, Leigh,” I began. “You’ve got a good foundation, but your assessment was correct. It all begins with your feet. Not your arms, like so.” I feigned a few blows.
“Got it,” she said, still breathing hard. “Come on.” She lifted her sword at the ready. “Unless you’re chicken?”
I couldn’t see their faces, but I would have paid a hefty fee to know whose smile grew wider, Arwen’s or my commander’s. “Shall we make it a bit more interesting?”
Leigh’s eyes lit up as they so often did when I enticed her with a wager. We’d made a fair few back on the ship to Citrine.
“I’ll use my left hand. And I won’t move my feet.” I fixed them firmly in the snow beneath us. “And,” I added, “I’ll close my eyes.”
Leigh grinned. “And all I have to do is strike you once?”
“Indeed.”
Leigh didn’t even wait to hear what was in it for her, if anything. She steeled her jaw and charged, leaving mere seconds for me to shut my eyes, toss my blade into my other hand, and plant my feet.
Her sword met mine in a pleasant crash over and over again. Her little huffs of frustration and exertion told me where she was at all times, which felt a bit unfair, but it wasn’t as if I could avoid them. Even if she’d been silent, Leigh’s blows were consistent, and I knew where each one was headed long before it drew near.
Despite Barney’s shouts for her to“Aim lower!”and Griffin’s low, mumbled,“A gut punch would help,”Leigh had only succeeded in deflecting blow after blow and not so much as slicing a fiber on my pant leg.
After parrying an offense which sent Leigh far enough away that I could no longer hear her panting, I stilled. She was good, the little one. Sly and cunning. I briefly wondered if I should let her steal a win, or if affection was clouding my judgment.
When the next blow sang through the air and my blade shot up just in time to spare my chin, fire heated my blood.
Thatwas not the little one.
Another blow slashed, and this time the sharp tip dragged smoothly across my middle, nearly ripping my shirt, followed by a melodic half laugh.
I opened my eyes.
