Ronan’s bones ached as he tried to get comfortable in the farthest corner of the tent. His pack and armor were neatly bundled on the tent floor beside him. However, he kept his sword safely in its sheath, near enough for him to reach in a hurry. Ronan noticed Clía glance at it, taking in the scratches on the leather and the worn grip.
She crawled up to Ronan and sat down beside him cross-legged. He turned his head toward her but didn’t get up. Warmth radiating from her filled the small distance between them.
“Yes?” he asked when she didn’t speak.
“I have a proposal for you.”
He lifted his head to see her more clearly. “I’ll have you know I’m not thinking of marriage at the moment.” The second he finished speaking, he regretted the jest.
Her eyes dropped, and he cursed himself. Before he could apologize, she looked back up at him with a renewed determination in her eyes. “I was looking for your assistance with something.”
“What do you need?”
“I want you to teach me how to wield a sword. You showed me how to hold a dagger, but a sword is a different beast. And holding the blade is only the first step. I need to know how to swing it, how to strike and block. I would rather not die on this quest.” She paused, as if gathering courage. “Will you help me?”
The princess didn’t strike him as someone who often asked for help, and here she was, asking for his. And the fact that she wanted him to do exactly what Kordislaen had hinted at only made it easier to say yes.
“I will, but we won’t have much available time. We’ll have to be dedicated,” he said.
She nodded vehemently, relief overtaking her expression. “Of course. I’ll do whatever you ask of me.”
“Then I’ll see you in the morning for your first lesson. No complaining allowed, by the way. Remember, you asked for this.”
He told himself it was because Kordislaen had already asked him to do this. But in the shadows, he found himself stealing a glance at her as she made herself comfortable. A smile was on her face as she fell asleep. He probably shouldn’t have noticed, but he did.
***
CLÍA COMPLAINED THE ENTIRE WAY TO THE SECOND CLEARING.
“I thought you said you would wake me up in themorning,” she groaned.
“I thought you agreed not to complain,” Ronan reminded her. “And technically, it is morning.”
They continued deeper into the trees, farther from the rest of camp. What little light there was was blocked out by the brush, forcing them to rely on their lanterns to guide the way through the mist and trees. The forest was silent—too early for the birds to start singing—except for the occasional crunch of their feet against the forest floor.
That, and Clía’s grumbling. “If I didn’t know you any better, I would say you’re planning on murdering me.”
He laughed. “No murder today—it’s a little too early for that.”
“Then you agree, it’s horrendously early.”
He watched as she tried not to trip over protruding tree roots and fallen logs, and held back another laugh.
Her comments stopped as they approached a small clearing.
“This will do,” he said, tossing her his sword.
She flinched, letting it fall to the ground with a loud clang.
“You were supposed to catch that.”
She reached down and picked up the sword, pulling it out of its sheath. “You probably shouldn’t throw weapons at people.”
“I see that now. You can yell at me about it later. Until then, show me your stance.”
Ronan watched as she held the sword in her right hand and bent her knees, angling her feet for better movement.
“Not too bad. This is pretty good for someone with no actual experience before this week—only a few minor adjustments need to be made.” Ronan stepped toward her and moved her grip on the sword handle, and he could tell the change immediately made a difference. She held the sword with more confidence already. He nudged her heels back and pushed her knees farther out, lowering her center of balance.
