He stepped into my space. “I don’t doubt your toughness. I’ve trained for my entire life. Believe me when I say that strategic rest is just as important for training as practice is.”
“You’re telling me if I rested tonight, I’d wake up with the ability to defend myself?”
His nostrils flared on a sigh. Then he placed those big hands on my shoulders, his toes nearly meeting mine. Days ago, the position would have sent nerves ricocheting in my torso. It didn’t now. “I know you’re anxious to learn, but starting too soon will only result in more pain, which will delay how much you can do moving forward.”
“What happens if someone attacks me tonight?”
His fingers lightly squeezed. “That won’t happen. You can wander the Citadel all you like, but a guard will trail you for protection, should anyone be reckless enough to defy me.”
“What if they get through the guard?”
“Are you doubting how well I train my guards?”
“Yes,” I affirmed.
He snorted. “My guards are very well trained.”
“What about Stefano?” I said, regretting the words as soon as they left my mouth. It wasn’t right to bring the boy into the conversation and remind Harthon of his failure.
But Harthon didn’t seem upset. His fingers began to gently knead the muscles of my shoulders. Pleasure shot down my spine as I fought to maintain my focus on the argument.
“Don’t let his youth or appearance fool you. He is incredibly fast and rather effective. You just fluster him because he thinks you’re pretty.”
Stefano thought I was pretty? Clearly, he hadn’t seen many women.
I tried to picture him, with those big blue eyes and that shaggy hair, ruthlessly striking down enemies. The image didn’t form.
“You never did tell me what his punishment was,” I pointed out.
“Horse shit duty in the stables.”
My lips parted with a sigh of relief. As miserable as that sounded, it was nothing more than a terrible chore.
“Now he’ll be the guard trailing you,” he tilted his head, “which we might consider an extension of his punishment.”
I frowned. “I’ll have you know I’m gracious company when I want to be.”
“And how does one sway you to be so gracious?”
“Not kidnapping me is usually a good start.”
His chuckle was a warm, potent rumble. “Since that appears to be off the table, is there anything else?”
“No. It’s a lost cause now.”
“Perhaps, or perhaps not. You just laid down a challenge, and I can never resist one. You might find I’m rather good at overcoming them.” Spoken with the arrogant assurance of someone who’d punched their way through every wall they came up against.
Well, he couldn’t punch through me.
He studied my smirk for a moment, and then his hands dropped, leaving my muscles feeling oddly empty. “But like I said, you aren’t training today. You’ll get a session with Cal tomorrow, and then you can continue your lessons with him after we return.” Harthon surprised the protests right out of me when he continued, “You’re going to get those few hours in the library to read over that letter to Tamen, as I promised. Stefano will meet us there. There’s nothing else you need to do today, so take as much time as you need.”
After last night, I hadn’t even remembered our discussion about the smudged letter, but I would have regretted not reading it myself once we left for Fifth. So when I mumbled next, I meant both words. “Thank you.”
Chapter 13
For the hundredth time in a row, I kicked the bag stuffed with grass in Callen’s hands, my hips crying with the effort. Harthon had been smart in making me wait to train. Based on the soreness pervading my limbs, I probably should have waited another day.
I would have, if I’d known the thousand different ways in which Callen would torture me.
