Page 55 of Vicious Princess
I might not be strong enough to survive his training, and then I’ll fail.
I don’t know who invented a pros and cons list and said it was the most useful way to make a decision. All this back-and-forth doesn’t help me at all.
Yet, hours later, here I am. Pulling on my leather pants and lacing up my boots ten minutes to three. Some of the cadets went to sleep only an hour ago, and I’m already up and ready to seize the day.
“This better fucking work out,” I mutter to myself as I march through the square with the fountain, towards the training hall.
The air is cool and crisp, soothing against my skin that’s been burning since Daegel told me he’s been thinking about what happened between us that night at the bar.
I crack my neck, roll my shoulders, and pull the handle. The heavy door creaks, echoing in the silent training hall.
He’s already here, leaning against the open archway that leads to the back garden.
My steps halt. I’m not sure what to say.
Eventually I settle on a simple “good morning.”
My voice is rough from the sleepless night.
“Your skills with the blade and in combat don’t worry me as much as your relationship with your bow,” he says, without turning to look at me. “I hope you brought your weapon here today.”
“Of course I did.” The quiver rests across my back, and my bow is on my shoulder.
Daegel turns his head to the side. Even his profile is damn hot. It’s not fair he’s blessed with such gorgeous facial structure.
“Get outside, then. What are you waiting for,princess?”
He doesn’t say the pet name in a sweet nor familiar way. Not like a gentle tease when Roman uses it. Daegel says it with the same amount of disdain as when he calls mehuman.
Cursing him in my mind, I look toward the sky above the ceiling.
Everything is for you.
Inhale. Exhale.
“Let’s do this,” I say to myself.
Fae might have superior hearing, but I don’t care. Let him consider me a barbaricyrathifor talking to myself.
Passing him without a look, I go into the back garden. The same targets are scattered along the perimeter of the training space. Some are farther down this time than last, though. A few are also higher, all the way at the top of the tree.
It’s dark at this hour. No sign of the sunrise on the horizon. I’m sure to Daegel, it’s no issue. Fae see better than dwarves; dwarves see better than humans.
Love being at the bottom of the food chain.
No matter. It will only make the steep climb to the top all that much sweeter in the end.
I don’t complain to Daegel. I can see the bright middle marks on every target well enough to shoot.
“Before we can hone your affinity, you have to work on mastering your bow,” Daegel says. His voice is low and husky. Each time he speaks, it sends a shiver down my spine.
He approaches me but remains standing behind my back a couple of steps away. “An archer and their bow are partners, a unit. Just like you chose your bow from a weaponsmith because it called for you, the bow must choose you.”
