“You have good instincts.” Flynn takes my hand and rises gingerly to his feet. “I didn’t think you’d be so . . .” He trails, searching for a specific word. “Ruthless. Most people are afraid to hurt a pretend assailant, so they hold back. You didn’t. You fought as if your life were truly at stake.”
“Oh.” I frown, not sure what to make of this. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You did well. It’s better to practice as though it’s real.”
“You think I’d stand a chance if you were actually trying?”
“Against a trained decurio soldier? Probably not. But give it time. Victory favors the vicious, and something tells me you are as vicious as they come.”
Hearing his praise makes me smile. The light, pleasant sensation doesn’t last for long. It’s drowned by the prickling feeling of eyes boring into me.
I don’t have to turn to know what it is. The Petruvians are here to observe training. They’re supposed to be watching the decurio, but I keep feeling their probing stares on me.
Taelon and Lorwen Night are eerily stoic. They sit in the stands, silent and expressionless.
I glance in their direction to find them already staring back.
I shudder and look away.
Flynn gazes at me knowingly. “Just ignore them.”
“They bother you too?”
He scowls. “Let’s just say I’ll be happy when this Tournament is finally over and we can get back to training in peace.”
“Can’t the General kick them out? Or you?”
“Petruvia has a Tournament of their own, to decide how land is allocated. When they compete, we watch. Fair is fair.”
“More like fair is creepy,” I mutter with a dark look at the Nights, who are still staring at me.
Flynn chuckles and doesn’t correct me.
We continue sparring under the watchful eyes of the Nights while I try to figure out a way to broach the subject of his father.
As we break for water, I say, “Doesn’t this business with Arliss Vale bother you?”
Flynn frowns, looking wary. “I barely knew the man.”
“It doesn’t bother you that there might be someone murdering the Honorate?”
Flynn doesn’t answer right away. He takes a long drink of water, not looking at me. “No.”
I figured someone of his stature would be better at lying. “That wasn’t convincing. Come on. Your father is an Honorate. You must be worried whoever killed Arliss is going to strike again.”
He lowers his voice. “Mira, we’re not allowed to discuss ongoing investigations with civilians. I could get in trouble.”
Interesting. His objection to talking about the case is that he’s not allowed to—not that he’sunwillingto. I can work with that. “What if I fight you for it?”
Flynn sputters a laugh. “What?”
“A fight. I manage to pin you to the ground, you answer my questions. You win, I’ll drop it forever.”
“It’s not a fair fight. I’m going to win.”
“Then I guess you have nothing to lose.”
He wavers, looking more amused than conflicted. “What are your terms?”
