Aya’s brows raised. ‘Another? How many are there?’
He waved her off. ‘Too many for one conversation, that’s for sure. I’ll bore you with the details later.’ He scanned her leathers again, sensing the perfect opening.
‘You know … if you’re looking for a training partner, you’re more than welcome to join me in the mornings. I may not be a member of Dyminara, but as history has shown, I am quite capable of holding my own against one.’
The corners of her mouth twitched. ‘Will might see that as a challenge.’
‘And you?’
‘I definitely do.’ Her finger traced the grooves on the wall again, as if she could feel the pride carved there. ‘You have Visya in your forces,’ she remarked suddenly.
‘Our kingdoms may hold different ideas around how Visya should use their gods-given power, but again, I wouldn’t deny a warrior their chance to wield a sword.’
‘And how do you train them?’
‘Ah,’ he said, finally catching her meaning. How could he,if he didn’t have powers? He settled onto the bench against the far wall, his legs stretching out before him.
‘I’m well versed in the affinities. If I’m to lead, I must be familiar with the weapons in our arsenal. I suppose it’s no different than your general learning the strengths and weaknesses of the humans she trains.’
She stiffened at the mention of the Queen’s General, and Aidon winced. He had forgotten the woman was dishonored. ‘Besides,’ he continued quickly, ‘if we need to train with affinities, there’s a tonic the Visya can take to help them control their powers until we find our rhythm as a unit.’
Her gaze cut to him, her mouth pressing into a thin line. ‘A tonic?’
Aidon’s eyes went wide. ‘I suppose saying it aloud makes it sound inhumane, but no one is forced—’
‘No,’ Aya interjected, shaking her head, ‘I just haven’t heard of such a thing.’
Aidon rubbed the back of his neck. ‘That’s because it only exists here. Our healers hold the formula. My uncle hopes to leverage it in trade one day.’
He didn’t miss the grimace that crossed her face.
‘All of that aside,’ he plowed on, ‘I have enough confidence in my own abilities to stand my ground against you. So are you going to let me see what all the talk is about?’ He stood and stretched, biting back a grin as Aya’s eyes flickered across him once more. Her cheeks were flushed as she faced the rack of swords.
‘If you insist.’
He hadn’t been joking, Aya realized. Aidon didn’t need Visya affinity to be a deadly contender. It was clear he was the general of his uncle’s forces for a reason. Not only did he knowhis way around the battlefield, but he fought with a technique to rival some of the best Dyminara.
Aidon grinned as they parried, the clanging of their swords the only sound aside from their uneven breathing. He was smooth and graceful and quick and vicious, and it was all she could do to keep blocking, to keep moving, to keep dodging his lightning-quick strikes.
Too long. It had been too long since she’d trained. And Aidon was going easy on her. She knew he could see the moments she winced at the stitch in her side, could sense how the blade, which often felt like an extension of her arm, sat heavy in her hand.
‘Don’t coddle me,’ she ordered through pants as they came together again, swords clanging. The last three weeks were starting to show. Her footwork was slower, each step feeling like trudging through mud.
‘Let’s break,’ he said as he dodged a low swipe to his side. ‘I’m exhausted.’
A lie, but … weak. She had let herself become weak. She backed off, her chest heaving, and nodded. Her body was coated in sweat, her hair sticking to her neck as Aidon racked their swords, the muscles of his back rippling. She rolled her wrist, wincing slightly at the soreness there.
Aidon frowned as he caught the movement, his long stride gobbling up the space between them as he took her arm lightly, pulling her toward him to examine her wrist. ‘Are you injured?’
‘It was a long time ago. I broke it, and by the time I got to the healer it hadn’t set correctly. She had to break it again. It still aches sometimes.’
Aidon dragged his thumb along the inside of her wrist, his eyes warm as they met hers. His ember and sea-breeze scentsettled over her, heat radiating off him as he stroked her skin again. Something tightened in her stomach at the touch.
‘Sounds like quite the wound.’
Aya swallowed. ‘It’s the inside ones I struggle with more,’ she confessed, the words falling from her lips before she could stop them. She wasn’t sure why she’d said it. Perhaps because of what he’d confessed of Dominic earlier. Perhaps because she needed him to trust her. Perhaps because she needed someone to hear it.
He took a slight step toward her, his chest brushing against hers. ‘And what helps with those?’
