“Nice warm-up. Your endurance is improving so fast,” I told the princess as she finished her jog before our Saturday morning training session.
A genuine smile spread across her face, lighting up her angular features. It always made my heart stutter when she smiled, especially when it was at me. “Yeah, it’s getting easier each time.”
I returned her grin and stepped closer, holding my fist out toward her, which she bumped casually. “I told you that you’d pick up everything in no time. Your sparring skills are already quickly improving as well. You’re definitely at level three.”
“But aren’t there like twenty-something levels, though?” Gray griped as she wiped the sweat from her temple. “I swear Scarlett mentioned something about the endless levels when we were stretching earlier.”
Laughter swelled in my chest. “No. There are ten. Have patience, but just know at this pace, you’ll surpass your peers in no time.”
“We’ll see about that,” she said, doubtful, bending over to retrieve the water bottle she brought, taking big gulps.
Gods, why was it that everything she did was attractive to me now?
I forced my gaze away to focus on literally anything else in the training room. Weapons. I began to mentally list all the organized blades in the weapons cache that lined the back wall. She was the king’s daughter, untouchable. I was lucky enough to land the position to train her, I didn’t need to risk my head by developing a stupid crush on her.
“Anybody else at school or here mess with you lately?” I asked, still staring at the blades.
“It doesn’t matter.” Gray set the bottle back down on the floor before turning her back and striding toward one of the sparring mats.
Slowly, I walked behind her and faced her on the mat.
The princess stared at the floor, combing her fingers through her hair to put in a fresh bun.
“Gray,” I said, garnering her attention. Her stormy blue eyes slashed through my soul, open with vulnerability that was so rare for her to display. The look stalled my breath and blanked my mind, my lips opening and closing like a fish out of water.
Gray’s vulnerability soon turned into confusion as her brows arched at my extended silence.
Finally, I managed to shake myself from her spell and cleared my throat. “Who’s messed with you?”
The princess shrugged. “It really doesn’t matter, Slate,” she repeated, but I tried to ignore the heart-flipping sensation at the sound of my name coming from her lips.
“Haven’t I told you that it matters to me?”
“Golden Figgaro. He cornered me yesterday morning after our session,” she mumbled, shifting her eyes away from me.
My jaw clenched. “Of course he did. He can’t beat anyone within his level, so he thought he’d make himself feel good by picking on someone just beginning.” I would be sure to show him how it feels to be the inferior fighter. “It’s fine. You’ll soon be kicking his ass.”
“Not if we don’t stop talking and start training,” Gray quipped, a slight smirk teasing the edges of her lips.
My heart warmed, and I tucked my bottom lip between my teeth in response. “Come on, Princess. Let’s make you a force to be reckoned with.”
To my surprise, Gray made the first move as she went on the offensive, charging me with a jab aimed at my ribs. I dodged by stepping aside, kicking her feet out from under her. With a thud, she collided with the mat.
Not giving her a chance to roll out from the position—she was quick with that move—I dropped to the mat, straddling her hips to pin her to the floor with my knees.
The look of fierce determination shone in her eyes as she swung at my face again—another mistake. I saw the move coming and dodged. “Aim for my liver, not my face.” It was a lesson Chrome had always instilled.
The princess’s jaw hardened as she landed a quick blow to the spot I’d instructed. It astounded me how quick she was with her movements.
Lacerating pain severed through my liver, halting my breath, but I focused on keeping my knees squeezing her waist. “Nice one,” I wheezed out, working hard to maintain the upper hand by blocking all her moves with my forearms and biceps.
“How do you get me off of you in this hold?” I asked while she threw fruitless punch after punch.
Princess Gray hesitated as she thought through the lessons I’d been imparting upon her in recent weeks. At last, she bucked herhips upward to throw me off. What it did instead was the worst thing that could happen to a teenage dude with a crush.
My groin ground against hers in a roll, the sensation feeling way too good to be considered acceptable during sparring. I fought back a groan, threw myself forward, and shifted my hips back, hoping she wouldn’t feel my growing boner between her thighs.
Fuck, how humiliating.
