I lunge again, and he deflects, but his footing falters. I sweep his leg in a clean arc, and he hits the ground with a thud, releasing a sharp exhale.
“Gods,” he groans. “Do you flirt like this, too? Or is this a special kind of torment just for me?”
“I don’t flirt,” I say, looming over him. “Especially not with arrogant men who think they can win my crown.”
“Win it? No,” he says, breathless but grinning. “Just figured I’d borrow it for a while. See how it fits.”
I roll my eyes, stepping forward to pin him with my knee at his chest, sword angled at his throat. Not pressing, but close enough.
Something shifts in me as I look down at him. His chestrising beneath my knee. That maddening smile gone, replaced by a look that is…unfamiliar. Focused.
Like he sees me.Reallysees me.
All of a sudden, it isn’t Koen beneath me.
It’s Kallan. His blond hair damp with sweat, heat in his eyes, his lips parted in a breathless grin after I’d knocked him down. The rush in my chest, the pounding in my ears—it’s the same. That memory is like a shard of glass in my lungs.
Koen is still staring up at me. Quiet now. Brows furrowed, like he feels something, too.
“…Have we actually met before?” he asks, barely a whisper.
I blink, snapping out of it. My face hardens.
“No,” I say quickly, pulling away and standing.
Koen sits up slowly, confused, brushing dirt off his tunic. “Right. Of course not.”
“Wow,” a familiar voice says from behind us.
We both turn.
Torin is standing at the edge of the training ring, arms folded, Alira perched beside him on the bench, grinning widely with a pastry in her hand.
“I give it three more sparring sessions before they’re making out in the armory,” Alira says, smirking around a bite of pastry.
I narrow my eyes. “Careful, Alira.”
Torin holds up his hands. “Hey, we’re not judging. Just never seen anyone get pinned that fast since the first time I challenged Serenya.”
Alira snorts. “Youcried.”
“I got dust in my eyes.”
Koen gets to his feet. “Glad to know I’m not the only victim.”
I shoot him a glare, but my lips are threatening to betray me with the faintest curl.
I turn to Torin. “Shouldn’t you be doing guard things?”
“Consider this guarding,” Torin says. “You’re both like very sharp objects with unresolved tension. Someone should supervise.”
I shake my head and start walking towards the weapons rack to return the sword I was using. “We’re done here.”
“But we were just starting to get along,” Koen calls after me.
I don’t respond.
When I pass by Alira, my cousin whispers, “You like him.”
