The room fell into a hush the moment he stepped in. He’d expected that.
Had he the leisure to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, he might have done so, but hardly anything was worth the laughter.
Dozens of ladies stood in a semi-circle, eyes round and unblinking, cheeks flushed with either cold or excitement, he could not tell which—simply because Cassian saw none of them.
His attention snapped straight to the center of the commotion, where something far more alarming and infinitely more absurd was happening.
Lady Kendrick stood proudly in the middle of the ballroom, holding a wooden foil in a stance while staring at him. His heart dropped in sheer disbelief.
Without thinking, he strode across the room in a few long, purposeful steps and snatched the wooden weapon from her frail hands.
“Grandmother,” he said, his voice low and taut as he looked down at her, “I did not agree to this madness only to watch you injure yourself.”
Lady Kendrick rolled her eyes as though she had endured such scolding for a lifetime.
“Oh, please, my boy. It is a wooden stick, not a cavalry sword.” She sighed heavily at his remark.
“Nevertheless—” His voice trailed off as he reached for her sword.
Isabella stepped forward then, stopping him from proceeding. “Nothing we are doing here is dangerous, Your Grace,” she countered, her tone firm. “Our foils are made of wood, and we are being taught by a professional. What could possibly go wrong?” Her tone challenged him.
Cassian’s eyes found hers instantly. He disliked how effortlessly his breath caught.
“Everything. On all counts,” he replied curtly.
Truth be told, his mind was not on the wooden foils but on the sight of her standing there, bright-eyed and confident with faint droplets of perspiration across her brow and chest where her neckline swept low enough to reveal the curves of her bust.. Something about the way she held herself pricked at him, unsettling his usual composure.
She frowned.
“With respect, Your Grace, we are not children in need of protecting.”
“Perhaps not,” he said coolly, “but it seems the protecting is needed regardless.”
She blinked, incensed. “You overestimate the danger and underestimate our competence.”
“And you underestimate how quickly a room of amateurs may create chaos when holding weapons,” he said, gesturing pointedly to where a lady in the background had nearly dropped her foil onto another’s shoe.
The wooden foil clanked to the side, proving his point as if on cue.
“That was an accident,” Isabella retorted.
“No, it was a demonstration,” Cassian returned dryly.
“Well, it seems a demonstration of your lack of confidence in women.” She thrust her chin in the air, refusing to back down.
Cassian lifted a brow. “Confidence is earned, Lady Isabella.”
“And yet you seem to have enough for the whole room, Your Grace.” Her eyes flashed with a challenge, adding to her already exotic allure.
A ripple of soft gasps fluttered behind them.
His jaw flexed. “Holding a stance for five minutes does not constitute mastery,” he said tersely. “You all are at the very beginning?—”
“As is the nature of learning,” she cut in. “We do not claim mastery, only the right to try without interference.”
“I am not interfering,” he said, exasperated. “I am preventing fractured ankles, broken toes, and possibly my grandmother’s hip.” His voice cut through the air sharply.
“I am perfectly well, Cassian,” Lady Kendrick chimed in, thoroughly amused.
